by Lily Harlem
He wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged my arm straight so he could examine my wound.
“The base of this mug is chipped.” I lifted it and glanced at the smear of blood on the shiny surface. “It has a lethal bit sticking out of it.”
“Hardly lethal.” He cocked one eyebrow and swept his tongue over his bottom lip. “But I’m sorry that had to cause you pain.”
“Had to?” I frowned and tried to pull my wrist from his grip.
He kept a tight hold, his cool fingers keeping my hand still and hovering before his face.
“Hey, I—”
“Please,” he said almost on a pant, “allow me.” He leaned forward, shut his eyes and wrapped his lips around my bleeding digit.
Instantly I was aware of powerful suction, his tongue soft but firm as he took my entire finger into his mouth, knuckle-deep.
“What are you do—?” My words cut off as tingling warmth spread up my arm. It seeped into my chest, spiking my nipples and creating a heavy weight low down inside of me.
He continued to suck, his cheeks hollowing and his eyes shut tight as though succumbing to ecstasy. My hand felt on fire, but not painfully. It was good heat, heat that was now burning up my arm and flooding my stomach, my pelvis, oh God, and my pussy.
I squirmed on the seat, captivated by the sensation but also needing to be free of it.
“Aimery,” I gasped. “Please—”
He slid his hand from my wrist to my elbow, bunching my sweater and keeping a tight hold of me.
I felt trapped, pinned in place, but I didn’t mind. His mouth, his tongue, the soft gulping noises he was making as though drinking greedily were mesmerizing. And my pussy, the heat was intense, the pressure building. My clit was pressing against the gusset of my knickers and in turn against the seam of my jeans.
A small groan weaved its way through my throat. He responded by placing his other hand on my thigh and smoothing it upward to the juncture of my legs and pressing against my clothing.
“Ah, oh, oh, what is happ—” I couldn’t speak another word. A small, trembling orgasm was ravishing me. Fingers of pleasure burst outward from my pussy, clenching my gut and curling my toes. I screwed my eyes shut, slumped back in the chair and dropped my head down.
As the spasms faded I was aware of the heat in my chest, arm and hand subsiding. I opened my eyes and refocused.
Aimery was staring at me. His pupils were enormous. He kept a tight hold of my wet finger. The end was now pale and the slit in my skin void of blood.
“Just as I suspected. You are truly an exquisite find,” he said.
“What, what just happened?” I was being treated to quivering, orgasmic aftershocks and my breath was a little hard to catch.
“You have a very rare blood type,” he said, cocking his head and again licking his lips.
“Yes, I know,” I said a little dreamily. “I have to store some in the local hospital, my mother always did before she passed too.”
“Bombay,” he said. “Truly a delicacy.”
I tugged my hand from his.
This time he released me.
“What the hell.” Despite feeling a little dreamy, I jumped up and scooted to the middle of the room. “How would you know about my blood type?”
“I just tasted it.” He stood also, towering over me.
I rammed my hands on my hips. This wasn’t making any sense. “No one has ever heard of my blood group. Barely anyone in the world has it and if it wasn’t for some throwback gene of mine I wouldn’t either.”
“Hardly sensible to go into a profession where cutting yourself is a daily hazard, then.” He smiled, almost lazily.
It was the first time I’d seen him even vaguely relaxed since I’d met him.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I snapped. “Again.”
He broadened his smile, kept his eyelids heavy and reached out and stroked the back of his thumb down my cheek.
I hitched in a breath. His proximity, the way he smelled this close up—sweetly spiced, like man and sex—filled my senses. But I wanted answers. I was confused, angry, scared, turned-the-hell-on by him. How did he know my blood group just from tasting it?
“You really don’t know how special you are, do you?” he murmured.
Suddenly his lips were on mine. Lips that had been wrapped around my finger moments ago were moving, soft and pliant, teasing my mouth open. I felt helpless to resist. I didn’t want to. Aimery was class-A gorgeous, despite his overenthusiasm for sucking my blood.
He delved into my mouth, the tip of his tongue searching and tangling with mine.
I joined in, played the game, opened up and tilted my head to deepen our kiss. Allowed myself to fall into the delicious flavor of him and the fantastical moment.
Suddenly I remembered why I was there.
Denny.
“No.” I stepped backward, away from him and toward the door. “Aimery, what are you doing? I thought you were going to help me find my friend.”
“I am.” His brow creased and he rubbed his temple. “I will.”
“But—”
“Come back tomorrow.” He sighed. “I will have news of Denny by then.”
“How can you know that?” I shook my head and watched him fold his long body into the chair by the fire. He crossed his legs, hooked his hands over the arms and rested his head back, as though preparing for a nap.
“I just know,” he said. “Trust me.”
“What makes you think I can trust you after…after that?”
“Because,” he said, settling his gaze on me, “you, Beatrice, have just become my world and I will do anything to make you happy.”
My heart rate rocketed and it was going like the clappers anyway. “Don’t be so ridiculous, we’ve only just met.”
“I’ve met lots of people, and I’ve always known whether they are special within a few short hours of becoming acquainted and you, well…” He paused and crossed his arms. “And you, let’s just say, it just took me a while to get past all those other smells you had lingering around you. But now that I have I know that you are indeed very special.”
His riddles and overzealous declarations suddenly irritated the hell out of me. “Oh, this is ridiculous,” I said, turning and striding to the door. “You’re just too weird, all this smelling me and sucking my blood. What are you, a bloody vampire or something?”
“Beatrice,” he said wearily. “Do not go, not yet.”
I turned as I reached for the handle. “It’s Bea, not Beatrice. And I’m going because this is freaky. I thought you were going to help me find Denny.”
“I will. Please, come back tomorrow and I promise I won’t disappoint you.”
Annoyance gnawed at me. I pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway. I slammed the door so hard a picture of a wolf shot through the neck with an arrow lurched on its hook.
A deep voice to my left startled me and I spun around.
“Well, well, well, isn’t this a surprise. Aimery finally has female company.”
Chapter Four
I pressed my hand to my sternum, shocked, and looked up into eyes such a surreal shade of aqua I almost dived into them. They were the color of a lagoon in the tropics, waiting for me to cool off in. Except there was something hard about them, as though if I did jump in I might hit ice that would shard around me.
“And quite delicious company,” he said, tipping forward and inhaling.
“Leave me alone,” I said breathlessly. “What is it with you blokes sniffing me?” I stumbled toward the top of the stairs.
“Hey, wait.” He grabbed my upper arm and yanked me backward.
“Don’t rush off.” Again he tipped his head, his nostrils flared and he seemed to inhale the aroma of my throat.
The skin on the back of my scalp and down my neck felt like it was shrinking, tightening. I struggled to move away.
The word vampire flashed like a beacon in my mind again. But really, blood-sucking men?
Surely I was just being overimaginative. I had a tendency to do that, Dad was always telling me so.
“Please, be still,” he said softly, his cool breath breezing over my flesh. “I mean you no harm.”
“Ryle. Take your hands off her. Now.”
The grip on my arms loosened and I found myself free of the man whose steely grip had held me. I looked at the doorway and saw Aimery standing there. The relaxed state he’d been in moments ago had vanished. His fists were clenched, his jaw tight and his stance squared. He looked ready for battle or prepared to pounce, at the very least. My traitorous heart did a little flip of appreciation for the dominance oozing from his every pore. Fuck, he was hot.
The other man, Ryle I presumed, strode across the landing and stood directly in front of Aimery, so close their noses were almost touching. Then he grinned, suddenly, flashing brilliant white teeth. “Bloody hell, you have, already…I can tell.”
“What concern is it of yours?” Aimery said, breaking the eye contact and moving toward me.
“Ha, I knew it.” Ryle’s laugh echoed around the high ceiling. “’Bout time, it’s been long enough. I was starting to worry about you, mate.”
Aimery rested his hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I looked up into his handsome face. Concern shone in his eyes and a frown creased his brow. “Yes, he just surprised me, that’s all. But I’m fine and…and I really should go.” I glanced down the stairway. “My father will be wondering where I am.”
“Oh Lord, she has family.” Ryle raised his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips. “That’s a real bummer, Aimery.”
“Not necessarily.” Aimery rubbed his hand down my arm, and despite the fact his fingers were cool that same warm feeling as before followed his touch. It was nice, compelling even. It made me want to stay close to him despite the fact he hadn’t given me answers to any of my questions. One of which was nudging the recesses of my hyperactive mind.
Stop it, Bea, you’re being ridiculous. Vampires don’t exist.
“Concorde will never allow it,” Ryle said with a desolate shake of his head.
“There are loop holes in the 1156 amendment, you know,” Aimery replied.
“Mmm, but a father?” Ryle said.
“A father who is not a problem.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, looking between the two men. “Of course my father isn’t a problem.”
Ryle shoved his hand over his hair. It was super short and white-blond. Like Aimery’s, his skin was flawless and his features as near to perfect as could be. Yet he was very different from Aimery, his lips a little plumper, his face a little longer, and his eyes, they were so vivid, perhaps more so because of his pale coloring. I could hardly tear my attention from them.
“You want to tell her or shall I?” Ryle asked Aimery.
“I will. She’s mine.”
Ryle was in front of Aimery again in a heartbeat, so fast I barely saw him move. “A Bombay should be shared so that she can be doubly protected. You, a hotshot lawyer with an IQ scraping the sky, should understand that.”
Ryle knew I was the rare blood type Bombay too. How could he possibly?
I stepped away. I had to get out. This was all too bizarre. First Aimery knew my blood type and then so did Ryle.
Aimery coiled an arm around my waist and pulled me close.
I gasped as he squeezed me tight. I could go nowhere.
“Keep your damn voice down, Ryle,” he said, shifting his attention left to right. “You want everyone to hear you shouting that word?”
Ryle narrowed his eyes, glanced at me then back at Aimery. “What’s to stop me if you’re not willing to share?” He gave a pained expression and lowered his voice. “What happened to us being a team?”
“You know we’ll always be a team, but look at her. She’ll die if everyone wants a piece, she’s hardly got a big stock of the stuff.”
Die! Oh shit.
I knew I shouldn’t have come here! How could I have been so stupid?
I writhed and wriggled, tried to shove myself free from Aimery. “Please, no, just let me go. They’re probably looking for me right now. My father has lots of friends, heavies, men who think nothing of using lead piping to get what they want and aren’t scared of time in the slammer.”
“Calm down, it’s okay, really,” Ryle said, pressing his hand over my cheek. “We won’t let anything happen to you. Well, nothing that will kill you anyway.”
“We?” Aimery asked.
“Yes, we,” Ryle whispered, leaning a little closer to me. “Out of everyone here at the Order, it’s me you need on your side if you want to keep her safe, Aimery. Besides…” He grinned and his eyes sparkled. “Don’t you remember how much fun we had in Calcutta?”
“Of course I remember,” Aimery said. “That will be with me for eternity, you know it will.”
I sensed Aimery had been backed into a corner by Ryle, although what kind of corner I had no idea. And what had happened in Calcutta that was so significant?
“Tell me your name,” Ryle said, tracing my bottom lip with his index finger.
I looked into his eyes and took a deep breath. He smelt fresh, like open water and sea breeze. It was refreshing after the stench of death in the market. “Bea,” I whispered.
“Short for Beatrice?”
I nodded.
“Pretty, just like you.” He dipped his head, stared at me intensely for a few long moments then stepped back suddenly.
“I will say nothing, Aimery, to anyone, while you consider the benefits of sharing Bea with me.”
“There is nothing to share,” Aimery said gruffly. “Beatrice is going now.”
“She may be leaving the grounds of the Company but now that you’ve found her you know as well as I do that this is just the start.” Ryle turned and walked away, taking ground-eating paces over the long hallway. “We will discuss this later when you’ve removed that lovesick look from your face.” He marched past the macabre tapestry and through an archway.
Lovesick look on his face? I looked up at Aimery, realized that I had my hand spread on his chest and my body molded to his. He looked a little gooey-eyed but maybe it was just the memories of Calcutta giving him that dreamy expression. It couldn’t possibly be me.
“I don’t understand any of this,” I said. “I just want to go home.”
“I know.” He touched his lips to the tip of my nose, a sweet, gentle gesture that seemed to dissolve the tension between us. “And you can go. In fact, I will walk you. I should have escorted you anyway. It was foolish of me to let you go alone.” He dropped his voice to a low whisper. “You just knocked me off my feet for a while back there.”
“What do you mean?”
He hesitated, then said, “I haven’t kissed a woman since my wife passed away.”
My heart stuttered. Aimery was a widower. No wonder there was an aloofness about him, it was probably to disguise his grief, protect himself from being hurt further.
“I’m sorry,” I said, smoothing my hand over his chest and wondering what pain was in his heart. “How long ago did she die?”
“Thirty years ago.”
“Thirty years.” Aimery didn’t look more than mid-thirties. How could he have been a widower for so long?
“Don’t look so shocked, my dear Beatrice. I have much to explain. I see that you are not a woman to act first and then think. You want answers before you make any moves.” He smiled. “Unless of course that fierce loyalty drives you to take action, and then I can’t see anything standing in your way. But first I fear I may already be getting myself into your father’s bad books by keeping you here for so long, and that is the last thing a gentleman should do when hoping to step out with a girl.”
“Step out?”
“Court,” he said, “date, ask for your hand. I want your father to approve of me, not think that I am some irresponsible cad who will lead his daughter astray from her responsibilities.”
Ask for my hand? Cad? I couldn’t help a small smile. The way Aimery spoke was so old-fashioned, quaint, it sounded like he’d walked off a Jane Austen production. “Is this how you speak all the time?”
“What is the matter with the way I speak?” He frowned. “Do you not like it?”
“Yes, I do, but you just sound so posh, not like me.”
“Beatrice, your accent is merely a product of your upbringing. It is what you say that is important.”
“I suppose.”
“And the fact we speak so differently just proves how truly opposite we are.” He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “But don’t you find not only do opposites attract, opposites also make the best matches?”
I thought he was going to kiss me again. He’d dropped his head so low and everything had faded into the distance, the way it did when he completely focused his attention on me. I thought back to the small orgasm I’d had in his office, how good it had felt, how he’d barely touched me and I’d come. That had never happened to me before. I was a long-intense-foreplay kind of girl, but Aimery, and the way he’d been with me, that tiny amount of pressure over my jeans. Oh wow.
I sighed and curled my fingers in to the lapel of his suit jacket. Pressed a little closer and tried to feel if his cock was hard beneath his suit trousers. I couldn’t sense anything.
“Mmm,” he said. “I would like to indulge you, but we really should go. Tomorrow all will become clear, I promise.”
“And Denny?” I whispered, reluctant to move and still hoping to find a hard wedge of flesh that would prove he was thinking similar things about me. If he hadn’t kissed a girl for a long time it must be even longer since he’d made love.
Thirty years. I must have misheard him.
He pulled back and offered the crook of his arm. I took it and he led me to the stairs. “Tomorrow I will have some information on Denny.”
We exited the building the way we’d come in. Through the garden and the gate in the wall. Walking down the dank passageway beneath the upper floors of the building, he urged me in front of him, for it was too narrow to walk side by side. I couldn’t help but be aware of his gaze on my bum, which was encased in skinny jeans. Call it female intuition or a girl’s sixth sense but I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell he wasn’t admiring my back view and for some reason that made me sashay, just a little, with each step I took. And I never sashayed, that wasn’t the type of person I was, but Aimery had my head spinning, and not only that, he also had my body buzzing, crying out for more of whatever it was he’d given me earlier that had been so damn good.