Wicked Seduction (Venice Vampyr Book 5)

by Michele Hauf

  On the other hand, her hands were also capable of herding cats at the keyboard. He would have to learn to take the horrible with the good.

  Now he lay down on the bed on his back, and beside him, lying on her stomach and propped on her elbows, Jane kissed his shoulder and then gave it a playful bite.

  "I'll have you know, I know what you did there," she said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "When I initially came into your room, I asked you about what you are. The teeth. The vampire thing. And you distracted me with…"

  "With?"

  "That big, hot member—"

  "It's a cock, Jane. Call it that. Please?"

  "You've a lovely cock." A blush heated her cheeks, and she shook her head. "Why is it so difficult to say some words after the things we've just done?"

  "You'll get over it soon enough."

  "I already am. Such a reprobate I've become. Whew! But I also know your tricks."

  "Tricks?"

  "You've successfully distracted me. Of which, I don't mind at all. But back to the word vampire. I want to know what you are, Marcello. Tell me true and honestly."

  "Very well. But know it's not something I share with anyone. No one, actually, save my closest friends, who are all vampires, as well."

  "More vampires? That man who was with you the first day we met?"

  He nodded. "But you mustn't tell anyone."

  "I will not. I promise. Is Venice overrun with the sort?"

  "Not quite. But you are taking this rather well, Jane. The idea of lying beside a man who has fangs and lives off the blood of others doesn't make you want to faint?"

  "I've fainted once already at the sight of your fangs. I'm the kind of woman who, once she has seen, believes. No sense in denying it. But tell me how you came to be like this?"

  "It was never a choice. But I've learned to live and survive as vampire, and now it is as if I was meant to be nothing but. I am proud of what I am, Jane. And just so you know, I needn't kill to survive."

  "That is good to hear. I wasn't sure…"

  He kissed her forehead then turned onto his side to face her. She was naked, and the candlelight glimmered in her eyes and on her skin as if stardust. Smoothing his fingers along her clavicle, he then slid his forefinger up to her vein and pressed it gently. "Right here is where I bite. It brings up the blood quickly. Of course, I can take from elsewhere, but I prefer the neck. Especially when I feed from men."

  "You bite men? But, of course, the man in the alleyway. So, it's not…"

  "Sexual? It can be. But I prefer to keep my meals as just that: sustenance. If I were to have sex and bite a woman, it would be very intimate, if I wished it."

  "Oh." Jane swallowed. "Would you…bite me?"

  "Only if you asked me to. But it isn't necessary to my happiness with you. You give me more pleasure than a simple bite ever could."

  That reassured her, but she was still a little confused. "You weren't born like this?"

  With a heavy sigh, he turned onto his back to face the tester canopy and began…

  "I have lived in Venice a long time. My family was large. I had three brothers and four sisters. All younger than me. We were happy. Privileged. I was twenty-five, and but two days returned from a Grand Tour, the night vampires attacked our home. I'm still not sure why they did. But I've learned it was only my family and no others. So perhaps it was political. We were obviously targeted.

  "They came in droves. I want to say hundreds, but I'm sure it was perhaps but a dozen. They went after my parents and me first, taking out the strongest. Then they attacked my younger siblings. They killed every single one of them. Left them lying on beds and couches and on the floor, bleeding—some of them with their eyes still open."

  "Oh, mercy." Jane clutched her fingers around his bicep. "That's horrible."

  "It was. Yet, for some reason, I survived. I'm sure they left me for dead. But I rose, bleeding from a massive neck wound, and wandered amongst my family members, crying, bawling actually. I hate to remember it.

  "Another vampire, one not associated with those who attacked my family—Carlo, the man who accompanied me on the first night we met you—found me sitting outside the palazzo that night. I was so close to death, could have simply died, but he asked me if I wanted to live forever, and…in the madness of what I had been through, I said yes. He turned me by allowing me to drink his blood.

  "He taught me the ways of the vampire. How to answer the blood hunger and to live in the shadows. Because I knew that I would be hunted if anyone learned what had become of me. "

  "I'm so sad for you."

  "Don't be. I am strong now. I've lived a long life. Seen so many wondrous things. Met kings, and danced with queens. Now, if the city would not be so set on kicking me out of my home, everything would be well."

  "Why do they— Do they know you are a vampire?"

  "No. And they will never learn that. But the city auditor is questioning my right to own the palazzo. Says he can't find records of sale. Well, of course he can’t, because I've lived here for centuries."

  "Centuries?" Jane propped up on her elbow and connected with his gaze in the low light. "How old are you?"

  He shrugged. "I was born in the thirteenth century."

  "Oh, my. That's…five hundred years?"

  "Give or take."

  "But you look young. About my age."

  "One of the advantages of being immortal."

  She had to take it all in. His tragic story saddened her, and yet out of it all, he'd survived and had been given immortality. With the price of having to drink blood from humans.

  "Does it have to be a live person?" she asked.

  "What? Oh, you mean for drinking? Yes. Dead blood would sicken me. And no animals."

  "Amazing."

  "Truly?"

  She closed her eyes and rolled to her back. "Yes."

  So fascinating! And she couldn't even be frightened that he may bite her. Because the idea of being bitten by the virile man who had just reduced her body to exquisite shivers excited her. And yet, the city sought to evict him from his family home?

  "Wait!" Jane sat up on the bed. "The secret room in my bedchamber!"

  "What?"

  She slid off the bed and grabbed her night-rail. "We must go look! There were precious treasures in there. So many papers, too. There could be a certificate of ownership for this palazzo in there."

  Marcello's mouth dropped open as he considered it. "Jane, you've the best idea. Let's take a look!"

  Chapter 9

  It was well into the early hours of the morning when Marcello followed Jane behind the hearth in her chambers and into the cool, dark room. He lifted the candelabra high, which cast a glow upon centuries of collected treasures.

  "It's been ages since I've been in here. Honestly, I had forgotten all about it."

  "Look at this." She glided her fingers along a jewel-encrusted curio box that Marcello remembered, with sudden acuity, held his mother's jewels. "I've never seen so many emeralds."

  "Open it." He set down the light and joined her side. She leaned against him as she opened the box. The feel of her body relaxing into his suddenly felt so precious to him. To have Jane's trust was immense.

  Her gasp was followed by an eager look.

  "Yes, of course, you must try them on."

  "Really?"

  He took out the diamond necklace from the box and strung it around her neck, tying the pink ribbon at her nape, then pulling her hair up and out from it.

  "I've never worn diamonds." She shivered against him. "They're cold." She turned to display the heavy strand of baubles to him. "Do they twinkle in the candlelight?"

  "Not as brightly as your eyes, lover." He kissed her and moaned as the connection ignited every part of his being. "You want them?"

  "Oh? Oh, but…they must belong to someone."

  "They were once my mother's. I'd like you to wear them. If you wish."

  "Your mother's…" she whispere
d.

  He nuzzled his nose against her chin and neck. "It would mean a lot to me to see them on you. Remind me of her a bit."

  "But those must be terrible memories."

  "My mother was kind and beautiful. I have only good memories of her. And her laughter. She loved music, too. Although the pianoforte did not exist when she was alive. Please, wear them?"

  She nodded. "Very well. I'd be honored." She pointed to a dark corner. "I believe I saw stacks of papers back that way."

  "Then let's take a look."

  After what may have been hours of shuffling through ancient papers, some so fragile Marcello feared they would crumble under his careful touch, he finally discovered a record of his birth. And it seemed as though with some careful adjustment to the black ink, the birth year could be altered. And along with that record, he also found the original deed to the palazzo.

  "My solicitor will be pleased."

  "Are you not pleased?" Jane filed through a stack of paintings.

  "I am. I would never have remembered this room were it not for you. Thank you for being a snoop, Jane Emery."

  "It's a talent."

  "You have so many."

  "Do not tease me about my musical skills. I will improve."

  "I know you will."

  "I just need to find the right teacher. Now, tell me about this painting."

  She slid forward a massive portrait of a young man wearing finery and gold epaulettes. His coal hair was neatly curled and hung to his shoulders. They'd not captured his chin correctly, though. Marcello had always thought that.

  "Is this you?" she asked.

  "It is. That was commissioned by my mother."

  She touched the diamond necklace and smiled. "You haven't changed very much. Matured surely. But I don't think the artist got your chin quite right. Yours is much more regal… Is this the family crest?" She tapped the sash slung across his shoulder, on which, an elaborate gold crest had been pinned. "It isn't often the common man wears such finery and gold and jewels. Marcello?"

  "What?"

  "Were you? Are you…royalty?"

  He chuckled and stood up from the stack of papers and hooked the heel of his hand against the wall as he calmly confessed, "I am Prince Marcello, son of Caesar and Angelique Sebastiani, a royal family who claims blood ties to the great warrior Vercingetorix. Long lost and forgotten after a wild band of cutthroats, or so rumor tells, slaughtered the family in the thirteenth century."

  * * *

  Her fingers skimming the diamonds at her neck, Jane realized she stood in the presence of royalty. A prince! And she wore his mother's jewels.

  "I should take this off."

  "No, Jane." He rushed to her and wrapped her in such a secure and loving embrace that she sighed and looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "What's wrong, Jane?"

  "You are royalty. I am but a common—"

  The kiss stopped her protest. It stopped any desire to argue, to declare herself less to him. All the kiss wanted was her surrender. And that was what she did.

  "I will continue to do that if you insist on spouting nonsense," he admonished. "I was once a prince."

  "You still are."

  "No longer recognized by any living, sane human being. According to reports following my family's slaughter, we all died. No children remained. And it doesn't matter. I don't need the title. I prefer not to have it, actually. It only brought heartache. I believe my family was murdered because of their political beliefs."

  "Vampires are political?"

  "We do have our causes. While I can never know for certain, I have wondered over the years if my father wasn't considering starting a group of warriors who sought to slay vampires."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, they exist now, these Guardians, the vampire hunters, but they were organized many centuries after my father's death. They call themselves the Guardians of The Holy Waters, and they are my bane. But you must never reveal to my fellow vampires that I have such a suspicion about my father's pursuits."

  "Of course, not. That would change the way they think of you. Maybe. You are so kind. Does that mean I will some day meet your friends? Other vampires?"

  "If you wish to, then I will make it happen." He slid the painting back into the shadows. "Allow me to be a common man to you, Jane. Please? And never take off the diamonds. They become you."

  "It's a lot to take in. So much has happened in so few days. Losing my patron. Moving in here with you. And…us. Mercy! I need to lie down. No, I will not faint." She stood straight. "Since we are revealing truths, I need to"—yawn—"confess something to you. I couldn't stand myself if I did not."

  He kissed her forehead and grabbed the candelabra. "You are exhausted. It's been a long day. And it's already morning. Whatever you have to say to me can wait until you've rested. Yes?"

  "I am dreadfully tired."

  "Let's get you into bed and I'll draw the curtains. I'll make sure Prudence leaves you to sleep."

  He closed the hearth behind them, and Jane wandered to the bed. "Do you sleep, Marcello?"

  "Not much. I don't need to. But the sunlight is not my friend, so I spend mornings in my dark, quiet room. I tend to read a lot."

  "You could snuggle with me? Just until I fall asleep."

  "Of course."

  She nestled into the bed, and he wrapped a big, strong arm across her. The diamonds rested heavily against her clavicle, setting her imagination on a flight of fancy to grand palaces and royals dressed in finery and jewels. The man had been through an awful ordeal and had lived to tell about it. He wasn't even human. Yet she had accepted that easily.

  Was she that desperate for a safe place away from her husband? Or had she simply stepped into something much darker and more disturbing?

  With a sigh that did not dispel her worries, Jane closed her eyes and surrendered to sleep.

  Chapter 10

  The next day, Jane took tea in the music room. Or what she had come to call the music room. The pianoforte had been placed back in the corner near a window. She wondered about that now as Prudence refilled her cup with hot water.

  "Do you think they placed the pianoforte far from the doors so the sounds of my practicing could not be heard in the other rooms?"

  Prudence's gape gave away her thoughts more quickly than she could hide them.

  "Really?" Jane set down her teacup. "How will I ever improve if I do not practice?"

  "I didn't say a thing, Jane. You mustn't assume that's why it is there. Perhaps that was the best area to accommodate the piano."

  Jane glanced around the nearly bare ballroom. It was expansive, and only the three chairs, a tea table, and the pianoforte were inside. She sighed heavily, catching her chin in her palm. "What shall we do today, Prudence?"

  "Well, there will be no more running about at night on your own."

  Yes, but had she not 'run about,' she would have never fainted, and Marcello would have never brought her home and ravished her in his bed. He'd taken her fully and completely. Pierced her with that amazing piece of manliness. She could feel it in her hand right now. His cock. A mighty weapon he wielded to slay only her.

  A vampire? She wondered what his bite would feel like. Would it give her pleasure? Would she want to bite him?

  She sighed again. And only after Prudence had set her cup down with a distinct clink did Jane notice that her maid was staring at her. With a bemused look.

  "I can read your thoughts," Jane offered.

  "Then I needn't voice them." Prudence’s smile increased to one of giddy amusement, which she tried to smooth away behind another sip of tea.

  "Yes, well, look who is enjoying herself just as much with the servant." Jane tilted a challenging look at her maid.

  A curt nod from Prudence accepted defeat. "Forgive me."

  "I will not. But do be careful, Prudence."

  "Oh, I am. And he is. We are." The woman chuckled and pressed her fingers to her breast. Jane had never before seen her so animated and happy
.

  "This Venice air has proven to be most beneficial for us," she offered.

  "That it has."

  And the twosome sipped tea with barely-concealed secret smiles.

  * * *

  Marcello passed Prudence while walking out of the kitchen.

  "Where is Miss Emery this fine day?"

  "She's in the music room, taking tea. If you hurry, you can get to her before she finishes and decided to tickle the ivories."

  "Good plan." He hastened his steps up the stairs and into the music room—when had it become a music room? Whatever worked, he supposed. He spied Jane just as she was standing up and rushed over to take her hand. "Good day, lover. Let's talk."

  "I was just about to practice."

  That's what he'd suspected. "Last night, you said you had something you wanted to tell me? Sit."

  She did, reluctantly. And so he knelt on the floor before her, making it impossible for her to get by and near the pianoforte.

  And now that he was down there…

  He slid his hands around her ankles. So delicate, and she wore the finest stockings that always allowed him to feel the minute goose bumps that rose on her skin beneath his touch. She jumped a little at his caress. "Really, Jane? You're skittish now, after all the places I've already touched you?"

  "Not at all. A little. I've never had a man touch my ankles before. It's very…"

  "Erotic? That sounds utterly strange. And pitiful. I'm sorry that I've neglected them." He lifted one of her feet, and pushing aside her dress hem, he bowed to kiss her ankle. Sweet shiver bumps pearled under his hands, so he pulled down her stocking and kissed her skin, eliciting a sigh from her. Her fingers gripped the curled ends of the chair. "Better?"

  "I don't know how I could have managed to miss such a pleasure. Oh…"

  He teased his tongue up higher and around to the crease behind her knee. She smelled sweet there. Ladies were always dusting themselves with powder or some such. He liked it. Reminded him of summer meadows.

  Lashing his tongue firmly into the bend compelled her to stretch out her leg straight, and he promptly hooked her ankle up over his shoulder.

  "Oh, my." Her gaze strayed toward the double doors.