Alaric touches my cheek. I turn my head into his touch, and through the tangle of my eyelashes, I see Claire watching us. A surge of petty joy rushes through me.That’s right, Claire. I’m not going to fall apart over losing our friendship.“I’m sorry that you had to come to my rescue again. You don’t have to keep pretending to be my fiancé. I think we fooled them.”
I tear myself away from him, even though severing his touch is physically painful.
“I’m used to skewering my enemies on ornately decorated swords,” Alaric says as he wraps his long fingers around his glass but does not drink it. “Pretending to be your betrothed is a more pleasant form of revenge. Plus it has the added advantage of less gore on my clothes.”
“I’m never certain if you’re kidding or not, but I love this bloodthirsty version of you.” I hold out my glass, and he clinks it with his own. His wine smells odd – heady and metallic – but I know nothing about wine so that probably means it’s old and delicious. The sexual charge between us hasn’t lessened now that the only parts of us touching are our thighs. Instead, all sensation in my bodyhas focused down to that one point, to the coolness and surety of his touch, to the way he makes me feel safe and completely reckless at the same time. “Their faces when they found out that you were a lord were an absolute joy.”
“A little vengeance is good for the soul.” Alaric sips his wine as the food arrives, and I shovel wedges into my mouth. His eyes crinkle at the edges, and suddenly, he looks impossibly young. I never realised how old he seems sometimes, as if he’s lived through ages I cannot fathom. “You’re smiling. You’re happy.”
“I am.” I feel happier than I’ve felt in months. But I don’t want to say any more. I’ve already been vulnerable enough for both of us tonight. “Thank you for taking me to dinner. I know it’s hard for you to leave the castle, but I hope you’ve had fun. And luckily, no members of the Nevermore Murder Club and Smutty Book Coven have seen you yet.”
“Why is that lucky?”
“You’re drinking your red wine, not eating anything, wearing that old-fashioned coat, and frightening away my ex with nothing but a smile. They already think you’re a vampire. This would confirm it.”
“And what if I was?” Alaric growls, his voice taking on that dark, dangerous tone he had when he told Danny to leave me alone.
I laugh. “Alaric, be serious. Vampires don’t exist.”
He sets down his glass. When he turns back to me, his eyes are blazing with heat. “I did not run from our kiss because I don’t want you, Winnie. I ran because you’re everything I’ve dreamed of.”
Excuse me, what?
“You’re fun, and bright, and beautiful, and patient. You light up a room just by walking into it. It is torture to work so closely with you, to sit beside the fire with you, when the things I long to do to your body are anything but chaste.”
“Oh, um …”
The butterfly mosh pit is goingwild. But not as wild as Alaric’s stormy eyes.
“Alaric—”
“I have to tell you something about myself. Tonight. I cannot wait any longer.” He takes a jagged inhale of breath. “Itwill make you hate me.”
“I won’t.”
“Youwill. You will run from Black Crag Castle and never look back, and it is for the best. You are supposed to run from monsters.” Alaric leans forward, his breath kissing my collarbone. “But before I tell you this truth, I want to taste you again. I want to remember what I lost.”
That heated voice of his works its way into my chest. Before I can utter another word, Alaric’s fingers cup my cheek, tilting my head toward him. His lips part mine and he dips his tongue inside my mouth, tasting and supping.
I must taste like potato and cheese, because he moans into my mouth as if the flavour of me is the most exquisite thing on earth. The hand on my cheek snakes around to tangle in my hair, angling my head exactly where he wants me, while his other arm wraps around me, lifting me from my stool and depositing me on his lap.
I can feel his hardness again, and even though it’s obscene and we’re in the pub andwhatthe hell am I doing, I rock against him, chasing the exquisitewantingof the friction between us.
I’m suddenly terrified that Alaric is doing all this for the benefit of Patrick and Claire. I pull back, panting, searching his eyes for a truth I can cling to. His fingers on the small of my back are steady, possessive. His eyes are purelust.
He presses his lips to mine again, hard and needy, and he weaves his fingers through mine, and he might as well be pushing his fingers right into my heart and clutching the tender organ in his fist.
I rise to meet him, my tongue exploring the curve of his mouth, his perfect teeth with their sharp …
Alaric pulls back, his eyes ablaze with flecks of light from the streetlights. He gathers me in his arms, lifting me off the chair and holding me against him. “Come, we will find Reginald to bring us back to the castle.”
By the time Alaric deposits me in the backseat of the car, I’ve forgotten about Patrick and Claire entirely.
THE NEVERMORE MURDER CLUB AND SMUTTY BOOK COVEN GROUP CHAT
Isis: You won’t believe what I saw! Winnie and Lord Valerian snogging!
Maisie: Isis, rude! Winnie’s on the chat!
