Zia looked up from her plate with surprise. “What won’t be?”
“You not minding somethingvery much,”he explained. Harlan’s gaze was sharp on her expression, taking in every flicker in her eyes, every brush of her tongue over her lower lip. “Your satisfaction is all that concerns me, Miss North.”
Her heartbeat jumped. A flush brought dark color to her cheeks. Her voice was soft when she noted, “You’re… very intense, Mr. Bounds.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “You have no idea how intense I can be.”
Zia sat back in her seat and folded her hands in her lap. Her eyes drifted over his face. He wondered what she saw there that made her look both uneasy and exhilarated. “Mr. Bounds, I… What exactly do you want with me?”
Whatdon’tI want with you?
Watching her with half-lidded eyes, he asked, “Do you know what an anchor is?”
“Only what I’ve seen in feeds and read online.” She canted her head to one side, sending stray curls tumbling over a mostly bare shoulder. “It’s sort of like a mate and a buffet wrapped up in one person, right?”
Harlan huffed. His smile, rusty and rarely used though it was, grew. “You could say that.” Pausing, he ran the tip of his tongue over the ridges of the swollen gland in the roof of his mouth. A pulse of dull pain followed.
In a lower voice, he continued, “The myths say that Grim fashioned anchors for us after we were cast out from the rest of society. In her infinite kindness, she gave us companions who would sustain us, and who we could love in return.” His small smile turned wry. “Science says that it’s an adaptation meant to help spread the virus after blood to blood transmission began to fail. An anchor can produce offspring that will carry the virus, and so the chain continues.”
There was a moment of silence before Zia sucked in a breath. “So… are you saying you wantmeto be your anchor?”
Harlan licked his lips. Should he have wooed her before this? Would knowing what he wanted scare her off? Perhaps.
But he was a direct man. He didn’t play games, nor negotiate. When he wanted something, he took it. When he aimed at someone, he didn’t miss a shot. He was honest in the only way he could be — by acting decisively.
“An anchor is the center of a vampire’s whole world, Miss North,” he told her. “They are more than a lover, more than sustenance. They areeverything.”His thumb brushed the base of his glass, circling it slowly. “Yes, I want you to be my anchor. Yes, I want you to be the center of my world.Yes,I want you to be my everything.”
Zia’s heartbeat was a swift rhythm in his ears. Her eyes were wide and her expression dazed when she said, “But… you don’t even know me.” She glanced down at her plate of untouched appetizers and blinked. “We haven’t even eaten dinner yet.”
Nerves made a muscle in his jaw tick. “It’s important for you to know that no matter what you decide, the rose garden is yours. Like I told you, if you choose not to pursue a relationship with me, I will never force the issue with you.” He swallowed hard. The words were like glass in his throat, though he meant them wholeheartedly. “But it is equally important to me that you know I have wanted you every day since you stepped foot on the estate. If you choose me, I promise, you will not regret it.”
She shook her head and pressed her palm against her chest, as if she could calm the racing heart that sang so sweetly for him. Almost to herself, she muttered, “This can’t be real.”
Harlan’s eyes narrowed. “Why can’t it be real?”
Her gaze flew up from her plate to meet his. “Because,” she answered, breathless and baffled, “I’ve imagined thisexact momenta thousand times. It— I never thought it couldhappen.”
It was his turn to be confused. Brow creasing, he took a moment to silently digest that admission while he took a long sip from his glass. His own heart thumped unevenly in his chest.
When he spoke, his voice was a deep, raw baritone. “What part did you imagine, Miss North?”
Zia’s eyes followed his hand as he lowered the glass back onto the table. They lingered on his scarred knuckles for a moment before they traced a path up his arm, over his shoulder, and back to his face. A hot blush seemed permanently infused in her cheeks when she whispered, “That you would want me back.”
The moment stretched between them, taut and increasingly warm. Their eyes were locked on one another even when the server returned with her meal. Perhaps sensing the tension, he didn’t say a word as he placed her plate in front of her and then beat a hasty retreat.
She’d ordered a large, beautifully colored salad decorated with ripe tomatoes and curls of pickled carrots, as well as a small bowl of rich pumpkin soup drizzled with a swirl of cream.
Neither of them spared a glance for any of it.
Harlan sat back and braced his forearms on the armrests of his chair, every muscle in his body tense with the urge to spring. “You want me.”
“I… yes.” Zia licked her lips. Laughing softly, she added, “You scare me half to death, but it’s like—” Her eyes cut away for a second before they flew back to his. “But it’s like Iwantyou to scare me.”
Fuck.Harlan gripped the armrests so hard, the wood creaked.
“Being my anchor won’t be easy,” he warned her, desperate to give her one final out before the steel jaws of desire stole the last of his mercy. “You won’t live in the sun any longer. I’ll need you with me constantly. I’ll be possessive, territorial, and overbearing.” His jaw worked for a moment as pressure and pain pulsed in the roots of his fangs. Raggedly, he added, “I’ll need to feed from you, Zia.”
Her breath hitched. Slowly, as if she was testing the words as she spoke them, she replied, “There are lights in the garden now, right? I can still work at night. At least, I can give it a try. And I’m already on the estate five days a week. What’s two more?”
