Page 55 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

“He said they’re not together. I believe him.”

“You might believe him. Hell, even Dorian might believe they’re just good friends, but Sybil sure as shit doesn’t think the same way.”

“Then that’s her problem.”

“Come on, Edie, haven’t you learned your lesson? Robert was⁠—”

“Robert has nothing to do with this,” I snap, disliking where this conversation is going.

“Robert,” she continues, “Cheated on you countless times. He promised he’d stop after every affair, and you believed him. He broke your heart so many times it’s a miracle you still have one beating inside your chest. Why on earth would you put yourself through that hell again? Dorian might be good-looking and charming, too, but surely you can see he’s a copy and paste of Robert. Same man, different font?”

She searches my gaze, and despite knowing she’s concerned for me, that she’s trying to protect me from heartbreak, I’m not in the mood for her all-men-are-arseholes lecture. I can’t let my past experiences cloud my judgment as she does. She, too, was broken by a man. I get that, but I really don’t think all men are bastards, despite what I’d said to Dorian the first night we met. I was angry then, jaded by my year-long divorce battle. I like to think there are still decent men out there.

“Have you ever stopped to consider I’m a grown woman more than capable of making my own decisions? Yes, Robert hurt me. Yes, I took him back time and again. But I learned my lesson, Elizabeth. I know what I’m doing.”

“And what are you doing exactly?” she asks.

“Well, for a start, I’m not chasing Dorian. I’m not begging for his attention. If he wants to have a relationship with me, albeit a strictly sexual one, it will be on my terms, and my terms only.”

Elizabeth snorts. “You’re in lust. Your lady parts are ruling your head. Just because he made you…” Her voice lowers, “Come, doesn’t mean he’s not an arsehole.”

“I’m aware.”

“Edie–”

“Listen, Elizabeth,” I say, cutting her off. “I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I’m not looking for love. This is me just having some fun for once in my life.”

“Fun?” She pulls a face. “And was it fun that he reacted like a first-class prick after he fingered you and saw your blood?”

“He apologised for his behaviour. He explained why he behaved the way he did.”

“And?”

“And it’s none of your business. I accepted his apology.”

“That’s it? You’re just going to forgive him and shack up with him?”

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

“Exploring my desires. He offered to help.”

“Help,” she screeches and about a half a dozen sets of eyes turn towards us. “Sorry, everything’s fine.” She waits until they all return to perusing the artwork before speaking again. “And what makes you think he’s not helping countless other women?”

“Because I told him I don’t share, and according to Dorian, neither does he. We both know where we stand.”

Elizabeth opens her mouth to protest, but is interrupted when Nina comes hurtling towards us both.

“This is the best day ever,” she squeals, so happy she’s bouncing from one foot to the other. “Thank you for bringing us here, Aunt Edie.”

“You’re welcome,” I reply, grinning at her enthusiasm.

She grabs my hand and tugs. “Let’s go look in the other room.”

We trail after Nina. This time, the walls are covered in paintings of landscapes awash with pastel colours that, whilst beautiful, seem to hold an edge of melancholy and sadness within the brush strokes.

“Wow, these are so pretty,” Nina cries, pulling me toward a painting of an open window framed in white gauze. I lose myself in it, almost tasting the salt of the sea as my gaze drifts out to the restless blue-grey ocean beyond the window.