But then I am a descendant of Van Helsing, and hating monsters is in my blood.
“Vampires don’t need consorts,” I end up saying lamely after very clearly and idiotically not saying no straight away.
“My bloodline does,” Dominik says simply. “But it’s not like the damned werewolves, if that’s what you were thinking. There’s no howling at the full moon or public claiming.”
I mean, I wasn’t thinking about werewolves at all. I was more thinking about what a mated vampire woulddofor all eternity…together.
“So, no one is going to find it weird you’re with a human consort…a pregnant human consort.”
“No one would dare,” Dominik growls with a rare loss of decorum. “I would take their heads off for even thinking such a thing.”
“And exactly what would thispretenseentail?”
“My consort…” Dominik says, pulling himself up to his full height.
I’m struck by how well his suit fits him, clinging to his clearly well-muscled form, the slim waist, the broad chest. As neatly pressed as the moment he put it on.
“She would be taken to all the best places in Budapest, provided with the finest food and wines…”
I open my mouth to contradict him on the alcohol, but he holds up an elegant, claw-tipped hand.
“Or, should that not be possible, the best mocktails the bar can provide.”
He gives me a quick glance, but I fear he has already moved into barrister mode, and this is going to be a long speech.
“She would, of course, have access to the best medical care”—I get another knowing glance—“and all sundries, such as clothing, would be provided to match the occasion. She wouldhave one of the best suites in my nest, along with her own set of thralls to provide for her every need.”
“And in return?” I fold my arms over my chest.
“In return, she would provide me with the delight of her company on a few occasions. Public occasions. She would inform her friends and family she is with me voluntarily.”
“And when it’s all over?”
“Then you…I mean she…can pick where in the world she wants to go, and I will facilitate it.”
“Sounds idyllic,” I respond. Dominik looks smug. “If I was some sort of trophy. But I’m not. I have a life, a job, a baby on the way. I don’t…I won’t mess around with monsters.” I curl my lip.
“You have no life. You have a dingy garden flat in North London and a job which hates you as much as you hate it,” he says rapidly.
I mean, it’s not an unfair assessment of my situation. And he missed the glaring fact I haven’t told himhowI ended up pregnant (other than the actual act, which is, in itself, obvious). But it is rude. Dominik is rude.
“What about my boyfriend?” I decide to test him.
“There is no boyfriend,” he says calmly, as if it’s a provable fact.
“The father…”
I don’t have time to move, or even blink, as I’m caged against the door by six foot eight of vampire male, his finger under my chin, tilting it up to him, his body pressed against mine, making me feel every inch of his muscular abdomen and beyond.
“I don’t care who the father is.” His eyes flare to red.
If it wasn’t for the fact we’ve just been discussing entering into a fake relationship, I’d have considered my jugular a goner.
And as for my knickers…
Then, as swiftly as he had me, he has backed off, as if recalling we’re supposed to be discussing a deal.
“I don’t care who the father is,” he repeats, this time his tone even. “And I guess, neither do you. So, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
