She looked at him, her heart leaping. Wales was far from London; she knew that. “Yes,” she said, knowing that her heart was in her eyes. “Thank you, Chas.”
He gave that little shrug again and said, “And maybe you’ll allow me to stay with you for awhile.” His grin was crooked.
“Of course,” she said, and smiled back.
His gaze darkened and his lips parted slightly. “You are the most beautiful woman,” he breathed. “God help me.”
He reached for her hand and she rose from her chair, suffused for the first time with comfort and security. She trusted him, and somehow, he’d come to trust her.
As long as they made their safe escape from Paris, she would have the chance to be free of Cezar forever.
16
Two weeks later,Reither’s Close, a village outside of London
Narcise paced the small chamber, trying not to imagine what was happening in the pub below. Trying not to picture the meeting between Chas and Giordan Cale.
More than a week ago, she and Chas had arrived on the British shore in the dead of night.Safe.
Between his careful planning, thelivresand guineas he’d used to grease palms, and her ability to enthrall, their exit from Paris and subsequent passage through the English blockade of the Channel had gone expediently and smoothly.
Without even a detour to London, they were on their way to Chas’s secret estate in Wales, but had stopped for three nights at an inn in Reither’s Closewell, a small village west of London so that he could send word to Corvindale and wait for a response.
Everything had gone well during their stay until Chas extricated himself from Narcise’s arms—and bed—and informed her that he was to meet a gentleman in the public room below.
When he said, “Perhaps you don’t remember Giordan Cale, but he’s a confidant of Dimitri,” Narcise’s entire world had halted.
“Not titled, but rich as Croesus and,” Chas continued with a bit of a laugh, “more than a match for me. I met him when I sneaked in to stake him. Obviously, we both lived.”
Narcise found her voice. “Obviously.”
“I can meet him below, but it wouldn’t be as private if I asked him up here. Less chance of us being seen.”
“No,” was all she said. But inside, her body was shriveling into panic. She had to close her fingers together to hide their sudden trembling.
Was Chas watching her closely, or was it her imagination?
“Very well.”
And she wondered what, if anything, he knew about their history.
For, despite their continued intimacy, she hadn’t told Chas about what had happened with Giordan and Cezar. Those events of a decade ago were no longer relevant, and there wasn’t any sense in reigniting the memories, reliving that horrible time.
As she imagined their conversation, she tried not to think about the fact that Giordan would scent her the moment he approached. Her presence was everywhere on Chas, and Giordan would know not only that she was near, but he’d immediately understand the nature of their relationship.
Would he even care?
As Narcise continued to trace the boundaries of the room, avoiding the narrow strips of fading sunlight from between awkwardly fitting shutters, she found herself wondering just whatwas, precisely, the nature of her relationship with Chas.
Not that Dracule had relationships like mortals did. After all, eternity was a very long time. Marriage was futile—at least with a mortal, who’d die long before the Dracule would, not to mention grow old and shriveled while thevampirremained ever young. And female Dracule, at least, didn’t seem able to procreate—at least not in the way their mortal female counterparts did.
And as for love….Narcise had come to realize that love was a mortal concept. A mortalcurse. Dracule didn’t truly love—because to love meant to place someone before oneself.
And avampirsimply did not do that. Ever. If he even thought about doing such a thing, Lucifer burned and blazed through the pulsing coils on one’s back and influenced those actions back to where they should be: to self. Of course, a Dracule was all about passion and lust and pleasure, and if one happened to give it during the time one was also receiving, then so be it.
Therefore, what had been between her and Giordan couldn’t have been love. Not at all.
For more than three weeks, she and Chas been together—as partners in their escape from Cezar, and lovers since that morning he’d kissed her. And since the day Chas had told her he had feelings for her, and how much he loathed the fact that he did, the bond between them had been strengthening.
