When he lowered his head to her neck, she knew he was going to bite her but somehow, it didn’t matter. He needed what she had, and she was willing to let him take it. There was no pain, no fear, only a warm, sensual pleasure that made her wonder why she had been so appalled the last time.
It was very late when they returned home. When they walked through the door, she felt as if she were waking from a dream.
She sat on the couch, watching him.
He glanced at the hearth and a fire sprang to life. He glanced at the oil lamp on the side table, and it began to glow.
“You bit me tonight.” She hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why?” A faint smile twitched his lips. “Surely by now you must know why.”
“It didn’t hurt.”
“Did it hurt the last time?”
She frowned, trying to remember, then shook her head. She hadn’t felt any pain, only the fear and terror of the unknown. “Is it my blood you want? Is that why you insist on keeping me here?”
He laughed softly. “Ah, my fair Bryony, I want all of you. Your heart, your soul, your blood.” He knelt on one knee before her, captured one of her hands in his and kissed her palm. “And your love. Do you think you could ever love me?”
She stared at their joined hands, hers so small and fragile, his so large and strong. Could she love a man who was a vampire and a witch? A man who wasn’t really a man at all? And yet he was the most remarkable person she had ever known—intriguing, mysterious, powerful, magical, sinfully handsome, and more desirable than any man she had ever met. She cared for him, enjoyed his company and his kisses, pitied him for the solitary life he had led until they met. If she said she loved him, would he keep her here forever? If she said she didn’t, would he let her go?
Stefan watched the play of emotions chase themselves across her face as he waited for her answer.
At last, she sighed and slowly withdrew her hand from his. “You ask if I could love you,” she murmured, not meeting his gaze. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in love. I’m not even sure I know what it is.” She looked up at him through the veil of her lashes, her heart beating wildly. Would he be angry? Hurt?
He rose to his feet and drew her up beside him. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her lightly. “Perhaps in three months’ time you will find the answer.”
Chapter Twenty
Stefan fed quickly and sent his prey away. Weeks had passed since Bryony had agreed to stay with him. Earlier tonight, he had taken her to the theater again. It pleased him to take her out, to see her smile and hear her laughter. Being with her was both torment and pleasure as he reined in his hunger for the sweet nectar running through her veins and fought his desire to take her to his bed and make her his.
She cared for him, he knew that. Just as he knew she was trying not to. She didn’t object on those occasions when he bit her. He knew she enjoyed it even though it frightened her. On one hand, she found his preternatural powers fascinating. On the other, they were unnatural, proof that he was not like other men. She reveled in his kisses, enjoyed his caresses, and felt guilty for doing so. She had been taught that decent women held tight to their virginity, that it was a precious gift that could be given only once and should be saved for the man she married. But he had not offered marriage.
Soon, he would have to let her go.
He swore under his breath as he turned and headed toward the Mountain House. It would have been faster to simply think himself there, but sometimes he enjoyed walking through the night, feeling the velvet darkness wrap around him like loving arms. He belonged to the night. It was a living, breathing part of him.
He was not subject to the mores of humanity. Their laws and codes, their ideas of morality, had no place in his life. His needs were few—a secure lair, access to prey, a woman to ease his lust. The fashions of the day, leaders of nations, wars, inventions, the human condition, the laws of the land—none of it had any lasting effect on his existence. They changed with time while he remained forever the same.
But vampire or human, he had always been a man of his word. He had promised to take Bryony home if she would grant him three months of her company.
He just wasn’t sure he could go through with it.
Stefan had reached the outskirts of his property when he caught the distinct scent of hunters. Lifting his head, he took a deep breath. A sudden sense of rage flooded through him. Why the hell wouldn’t they leave him alone? Why, indeed? He laughed but there was no humor in it. They were hunters, he was a vampire. Mortal enemies since time began. And yet there was a strange connection between hunters and vampires, a supernatural ability that alerted hunters when there were vampires in the area, the same preternatural power that allowed him to scent the presence of the hunters. He had often wondered if it was nature’s sly way of leveling the playing field between them.
On silent feet, he made his way to the front of the house and peered through the window. Bryony sat on the couch, her back toward him. Four hunters stood in front of her. Big men, well-armed. All were scarred, souvenirs of previous battles, no doubt. He recognized the fair-haired man on the far left. How had they gotten into the house? Surely Bryony would not have invited them.
One of the other hunters took hold of Bryony’s shoulders and gave her a good shake. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know!”
“Don’t lie to me! We know he lives here. Hell, I can smell him on you.”
“Let me go!” She twisted out of his grasp, scrambled to her feet, and started to run for the stairs, but the hunters cut off her escape and then surrounded her.
