“Alaric, tell me.” Winnie’s golden eyes flicker with concern. “She’s threatened you.”
“If I don’t go through with the wedding, then her spectacle will be my execution.”
“She can’t do that.” Winnie’s chin wobbles, and her voice breaks. Another tear slips down her cheek. “You’re her son.”
“I have lived for more than my allocated time on this earth, have known pain, and more pleasure—” my eyes burn into hers “—than has been my due. I’m not afraid of what she will do to me. But she knows that you know what I am, and you are not in Thrall to my blood. And she knows how much I care for you.”
“I still don’t understand why that’s wrong,” she protests.
“Any intimate relationship between human and vampire is forbidden because of the risk of Dhampir.”
“What’s a Dhampir?”
“A Dhampir is a different type of vampire – they aren’t made from the Kiss like Upyr, but born of a human woman from the seed of a male Upyr. Dhampir aren’t like me or Gideon or any other vampire you may encounter. They are demons with iron teeth, the strength of ten vampires, and insatiable hunger for blood and death. They will eat their way out of their mother’s womb.”
“Delightful.” Winnie makes a face.
“Indeed. That is why our laws forbid any relations that might lead to the creation of a Dhampir. It’s such an ingrained part of our world that very few have concerned themselves withhuman advancements like contraception, because the very idea of doingthatwith a human is repulsive.” My fangs scrape against my lip. “Not to me.”
Winnie grips the chair arms, and the tiniest, barely audible rush of air escapes her lips. But I have the hearing of a predator, and her arousal scents the air with ripe strawberries. I growl low in my throat as I struggle to hold myself down.
She dips her head, fighting her own battle with her desires. “This is why your mother hates me.”
“You are dangerous, forbidden. I’m the only one who can protect you from her, but I can’t do that if I’m skewered through like one of Reginald’s kebabs.”
“You’re saying that your mother will kill me.”
“She will not,” I growl. “I will not allow it.”
“But for us both to stay alive, you have to marry Perdita.” Winnie rests her head in her hands. “You’ve got us into a real pickle with this fake-fiancée thing.”
“I was foolish. I didn’t understand the reason behind her visit and …”
… and I wanted you to belong to me.
“Of course, we will cease that charade immediately,” I say.
Her smile is a sin that will lead godly men to hell. “We don’t have to.”
The heart I thought long dead stutters against my chest.
“I think I have an idea to get us all out of this homicidal mother fiasco, and it’s going to rely on us keeping up this fake engagement we’ve established.”
“I can’t ask you to do that, Winnie. I know that you are afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Alaric,” she says firmly. “I’ve lived with you for nearly six weeks and you’ve been nothing but a gentleman. A grumpy, slightly odd gentleman, but a gentleman nonetheless. I’m afraid ofmyselfand what I might do around you.
“But …” she continues. “I signed on to whip this castle into shape, and professional pride means I can’t leave until it’s spotless for your guests. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this ball a success, although I warn you – my fake-fiancée rate is much higher than my professional organiser rate.”
“I shall pay whatever you ask.”
“I waskidding.” Winnie rolls her eyes, but her cheeks are crimson. “We need to establish some rules. I’ve read a lot of fake-dating romances. They all begin with a list of rules.”
I enjoy her like this, all strict and businesslike, even as her arousal hangs thick in the air between us. “What are our rules?”
“I’ll stay in the castle and be madly in love with you until either your mother and/or Perdita leave in disgust, as long as you keep up the charade that we’re together if we bump into Patrick and Claire again,” she says. “In fact, it’s probably best if we pretend to be together any time we’re outside the castle as well. If this village is as teeming with vamps as you claim, we don’t want word to get back to your mother that we’re faking.”
“That is fine,” I say. “I don’t intend to leave the castle.”
