After half a minute, he pulled back from her wrist and licked her skin clean of the blood. His wrist was nearly healed, and hers had begun to knit itself back together. “Are you well?”
“Well?” she whispered. With that thrumming inside her? The fire that had not banked itself since he had given her his blood? “Yes. I am well.”
“Good.” He leaned towards her again. “Forgive me for going about this a little backwards.”
“Backwards?”
“I didn’t even give you a good evening kiss upon waking.”
She blinked at him. Kiss? She had not even thought of it. He had kissed her at the conclusion of the wedding ceremony, but it had been a feather-light touch of lips on hers, gossamer in its sweetness. The kisses to her ruined fingers had felt far more momentous.
“Allow me to remedy it?” he murmured. He cupped her face in his hand.
Genevieve stared at his mouth and managed a nod.
His lips slanted over hers. Her eyes fluttered closed.
She breathed him in, tasting the honey and spice as he nibbled at her mouth. Her hands buried themselves in his hair of their own accord as she deepened the kiss, dragging her lips across his. The feeling of his beard against her skin was novel and fascinating. She felt him smile against her mouth before his lips wandered down her jaw to her earlobe, where he gently set his teeth. The sensation set off a flock of butterflies in her stomach. But when he dipped his head as if to kiss her neck, she stiffened.
He moved his head to kiss her cheek, her nose, her eyebrow as his hands stroked her back soothingly. “All right?” he murmured.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He dropped his head and rubbed his nose against hers. “I can’t swear to being a perfect husband, but I’ll never knowingly hurt you, Genevieve. Do you believe me?”
Her eyes flicked up to meet his. “I do.” Then she stretched up and brushed a kiss of her own against his mouth and was gratified to see his eyes glow gold.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Kendrick held out his hand to help Genevieve, hiswife, disembark the hackney in front of Carmine House. That was the gentlemanly thing to do. Grabbing your woman by the waist and swinging her down into your embrace was probably not, even on a dark street.
Much as he wanted to.
Married life has things to recommend it, he thought as she placed her hand in his and stepped down.
The door at the top of the steps opened, and Robbie directed a young man in a footman’s uniform to get the trunk from the driver. “Welcome back, sir,” Robbie said when they’d reached him, but the smile was tight on his face.
Kendrick came to alertness. “What’s toward?”
“Joseph will tell you,” Robbie said. “Danny, you take the luggage up.”
“It’s not Fletcher, is it?” Genevieve asked anxiously, unpinning her hat.
“No, no.” Elspeth appeared at her elbow and took the hat from her. “He’s all right. Just cross because I wouldn’t let him get up and roam about. He’ll be glad to see you.”
“Go on,” Kendrick said. He could tell she was barely keeping herself from rushing up to check on the boy. “I’ll find out what Joseph wants.”
Genevieve hurried up the steps—but she turned to cast a glance back at him at the top of the stairs. Kendrick knew because he was looking over his shoulder at her, too.
Yes, he thought, descending to the cellar and the Ossuary entrance,I could get used to this.
Joseph nearly collided with him in the passage. “Ah, good.” Without preamble, he waved Kendrick on. “We’ve got another one.”
“An assassin?”
“No. Mad,” he said bluntly. “Just after dusk today.”
Kendrick reflexively reached for the hilt over his shoulder. “Who’ve they killed?”
