Marked: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance

by Gwen Knight

  “Easy,” he murmured, though darkness slipped behind his eyes, proof he could hear my heartbeat. “I knew you were a novice, but I didn’t realize you were a blood virgin. It’s good that I know,” he continued, his words at war with his expression. Clearing his throat, the darkness faded from his eyes and he gestured toward the kitchen. “Perhaps change out of your dress and meet in the kitchen in ten minutes. Yes?”

  “Y—Yes.”

  He inclined his head, then turned and made his way back toward the kitchen.

  Looked like I was popping a different cherry tonight, and it was going to be bloody.

  Chapter 7

  I stood in the middle of my bedroom, growling under my breath as I considered ripping the damn dress off. It had taken a team of stylists to stuff me into this contraption. One set of hands wasn’t going to be enough to get me out. As it was, the long line of satin buttons running down the length of my back was impossible to reach.

  Just my luck.

  I reached into my bag and pulled out my cell phone. Three missed texts from Tessa, all worried and wondering how I was managing. The obvious concern in her messages reminded me that I was here for a reason: to charm the pants off Ethen Rune and use the substantial fee to pay off Alexei. That meant convincingly playing the role of the courtesan.

  Wants to feed. Tips? I texted Tessa.

  It took a moment before she responded. He won’t hurt you. Stay calm, confident, and trust him.

  Trust a vampire? I wanted to laugh. A vampire was why we were in this mess. My phone vibrated a second time. Not all are like Calix.

  This time, I did laugh. Of course, she’d known where my thoughts had wandered to. Trust my best friend to understand my head better than me.

  I tapped in a quick wish me luck, then slid my phone back into my bag.

  My ten minutes were up. I lifted my head high and exited my room. The walk to the kitchen seemed endless, but I took that time to settle my nerves. He won’t hurt you, Tessa had said. I had to take her word on that; she had far more experience in these matters than I did. Not that her recent experiences helped convince me.

  The warm scent of pizza teased my nose, distracting me from my impending night. I followed it into the kitchen and paused at the door when I caught sight of Ethen. He stood with his back to me, his crisp white sleeves folded up to his elbows, and his suit jacket draped across one of the stools. Somehow, I knew this was a rare sight. From what I’d gathered, Ethen lived in a world of his own making, one he rarely shared with others. So, I took this opportunity to relish in the view. There was something delectable about watching a man preparing a meal in a kitchen. I leaned against the door frame and observed, a smile crossing my lips.

  With his senses, he had to have known I was there. But rather than immediately greeting me, he first finished unloading the pizza onto a plate before turning. “Please, sit.”

  I contemplated the tall chair with a twisted mouth. Bar stools and evening dresses didn’t generally go hand in hand. Nor was I in the mood to embarrass myself further by struggling to get my ass onto it. On the other hand, my feet ached from an entire night of heels, and the last thing I wanted to do was lean over the counter while eating.

  I was nibbling my bottom lip and contemplating my plan of attack when two large hands grasped my waist, spun me around, and lifted me up onto the stool without so much as a word. Stunned, I stared up at Ethen, my gaze catching his.

  He stood so close, his thighs braced between mine, his fingers lingering beneath my breasts. My breath caught as heat spilled through my body and my stomach clenched with anticipation. What surprised me most was my lack of fear.

  “Lesson number one: Never stare a vampire in the eye.” His thumbs brushed along my ribs.

  “Why?”

  His hand grazed up the length of my side and the swell of my breast before settling against my cheek. Without thought, I leaned into his touch, my lashes fluttering against my cheeks.

  “Our glamour is strongest with eye contact,” he explained. “Some might take advantage of that.”

  “But not you.”

  His throat worked as he struggled to swallow. “No, not me. I’ve never felt a need to force someone to do something.”

  A tremor shook the wall I’d erected around my heart. I opened my eyes and met his gaze without flinching. Somehow I knew I could trust him. Not vampires. But him. Ethen Rune. The one who’d stopped Luke from taking what he wanted. The one who’d outbid all the other vampires to spend the night with me, then given me my own room instead of forcing me to stay in his.

  He made me feel. Something that hadn’t happened in a long time.

  “Though, I admit…you test me.”

  A slight frown wrinkled my brow. “How do I test you?”

  He leaned forward until the tip of his nose brushed my throat. “Your scent, your voice, your blood… I find everything about you captivating.”

  So I affected him as much as he did me. I moistened my lips and lifted my chin, exposing my throat for his pleasure.

  “I thought you were going to change out of your dress? Not that I’m complaining,” he stated, his fingers playing along the edge of my bust.

  “I tried. I couldn’t…”

  “Take it off?”

  I shook my head, gasping when his teeth grazed my flesh.

  “I’ve never understood the madam’s fascination with such things. Vampires care little about the clothing you wear.”

  “A trait all men share, I’m sure,” I whispered.

  “Mm,” he hummed, his tongue brushing against my throat.

  I shuddered, surprisingly eager for him to take that final step, even though I’d never been bitten before.

  “She preens and primps you up as though you’re…”

  “An object?” I finished.

  As though my words were a little too close for comfort, he cleared his throat and stepped back, his jaw tight. He tugged on his shirt, recomposing himself right before my eyes.

  My stomach chose that moment to give a resounding growl that rumbled through the room.

  “And on that note.” Ethen started back toward the plate he’d made up for me, “I suppose I should feed you.”

  Gone were the gentle touches and heated glances. Dismayed, I ran a hand through my bangs and nodded.

  “Were you forbidden from eating at the gala?”

  “Of course not.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Then…?”

  “Do you know how much this dress costs?”

  He blinked, then shook his head. “I do not.”

  “Me neither. And I wasn’t about to find out.”

  “Are you normally a messy eater?”

  “Hardly. But it was a nerve-wracking situation to be in. One slip and everyone would know me as the courtesan who spilled cocktail sauce down her dress.”

  “Ah, a serious offense.”

  His dry tone dragged another snicker out of me. “The most serious.”

  “Well, I shan’t make you wait any longer.” He turned with a flourish and presented a gold-rimmed platter heaping with four slices of pizza.

  My eyes widened at the sight. “I’m supposed to eat all that?”

  His attention shifted to the plate. “Too much?”

  “A couple slices too much.”

  He tilted his head and studied the plate. “Apologies. I must have forgotten appropriate portion sizes.”

  Compassion lit through me. It wasn’t his fault. Vampires stopped consuming solid food the moment they transitioned from humans. If Ethen was as old as people claimed, he hadn’t tasted human food in over a couple centuries.

  “You know what,” I said. “Screw it. Hand it over.”

  His brows shot up. “All of it?”

  “Sure! A girl needs a challenge, right?”

  “And you think this is the appropriate way to challenge yourself?” Ethen handed it over and tucked into the seat across from me.

  “You’re…going to watch?”<
br />
  He gave an elegant shrug. “It isn’t often I get the chance to witness such a scene.”

  “Touché,” I murmured before taking my first bite. The moment the food touched my tongue, my eyes fluttered shut, and I let loose an appreciative moan. Chicago deep-dish pizza…there really weren’t many things better than that.

  “Good?” Ethen asked.

  “Delicious. You honestly can’t eat?”

  “My tastes run a little more exotic than pizza.”

  I almost choked on my next bite, my hand flying up to cover my mouth in case I spat something out. Worth it, though, to hear his deep, rumbling laughter.

  “Was that a joke?” I teased, leaning across the marble-topped counter.

  “Partly,” he responded with a wicked grin, one that robbed me of breath. “Wine?”

  With pizza? I was about to decline when I remembered this would be my first time cracking a vein for a vampire. Perhaps a little alcohol would help soothe my nerves. “Please.”

  “Any preference?”

  I glanced up from my slice. “What are my choices?”

  “I have a wine cellar should you wish to look?”

  That sounded tedious. I shook my head. “Whichever you prefer is fine.” Clearly, he could drink then.

  “I had Ms. Doyle bring up a bottle of Riesling before we arrived. Unless you’d prefer champagne?”

  “The Riesling, please. Champagne always gives me a headache.”

  “Ah. We wouldn’t want that,” he commented as he reached for a bottle I hadn’t noticed earlier.

  He popped the cork and filled two glasses. When he returned, he handed me a glass, which I nearly drained in three swallows. Maybe my nerves were more shot than I wanted to admit.

  I lowered the glass to the table and met his gaze. “So, Ethen, what do you do?”

  “I suppose the easiest explanation is that I own a selection of large businesses, all conglomerated into one massive enterprise,” he commented as he refilled my drink.

  “That’s the easiest explanation, huh? What sort of businesses?”

  “Architecture, mostly.”

  “You like to build things?”

  He canted his head and studied me. “In a manner of speaking. I enjoy bringing concepts and ideas to life. To give them substance and form.”

  Interesting. I regarded him with a raised brow. A vampire who enjoyed bringing things to life…surely that wasn’t normal.

  “Is that so surprising?” he questioned.

  I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. Truthfully, yes. My family had always spoken of a vampire’s baser instinct to destroy. To mutilate and kill. So far, I’d seen nothing of the like with Ethen. For all intents and purposes, he had the appearance—and so far, charm and temperament—of a human. Better, in fact. Was my family wrong about them? What if he wasn’t the monster they said he was?

  I took another bite of pizza before speaking. “Have you always been an architect?”

  “Always?” He shook his head. “Always is a long time when you live forever. So, no. I’ve dabbled in a great many things.”

  “And how long have you been alive?”

  “Some would argue that I’m not alive now.”

  I blinked at that, my wine glass hovering near my lips. “Do you believe that?”

  “Do you?”

  I hesitated. I wasn’t sure what to think. With a look of grim determination, Ethen pushed to his feet and rounded the table. Before I could inquire, he grasped my hand and placed it over his heart. “What do you feel?”

  I felt…nothing. His chest was still as death. “But your skin…” I whispered.

  “Blood warms us. To become this, you first must die. So you tell me. Am I alive or dead?”

  This conversation was growing a tad too philosophical for my liking. Personally, the thought of the undead gave me the willies.

  Sensing my discomfort, Ethen slowly released my hand and returned to his chair. “What about you?”

  “I’m quite alive. No debate there,” I teased, hoping to break the tension.

  Mischief twinkled in his eyes. “I was referring to your profession. What is it you do? Other than charming vampires, I mean.”

  “Nothing exciting, I’m afraid. University student by day, waitress by night.”

  “And that’s why you took this position as a courtesan? To pay your tuition fees?”

  I nodded absently. That was the party line I’d given the madam, couldn’t change it now.

  “The University of Chicago?” he inquired.

  “The one and only.”

  “What do you take there?”

  I smiled at his question, curious how the architect would respond. “Music.”

  He blinked, the hard planes of his face smoothing with surprise. “Music?”

  It was a typical reaction. Most people didn’t believe music to be a worthy major.

  “You play, then? An instrument, I mean?”

  “I do. The cello.” I took another bite of pizza.

  Delight brightened his face. “Is that so? As a young lad, I played the lute.”

  “Could this be possible?” I leaned across the counter. “Do we actually have something in common?”

  Ethen cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “I suppose anything is possible.”

  And just like that, we were back to being strangers. One brief moment and that was it. I finished the rest of my slice, unsure how to break down the wall he continually erected between us. After my second glass of wine, and an awkward silence, I folded my hands atop the counter and gave him my full attention. “Will you answer something for me?”

  “Perhaps,” he hedged.

  I refrained from rolling my eyes. “Why did you buy my contract?”

  “Excuse me?”

  My stomach tightened with fear. Perhaps this had been the wrong question to ask, but rather than recant, I repeated my question. “You rarely attend those type of events, right?”

  Ethen’s dark brow furrowing into a tight knot. Still and silent as the grave. Seemed the man had a taciturn side as well.

  “From what I understand, you are one of the few who does not hire courtesans. So, why me?” When his eyes hardened, I sat back and held up my hands. “I didn’t mean to offend, I only—”

  “I didn’t like the way the others watched you.”

  My mouth parted. He’d chosen me as his courtesan because he didn’t like how the others had looked at me? What did that even mean?

  I opened my mouth to inquire further, but Ethen chose that moment to down the rest of his wine and stand. “Come,” he said, offering me his hand once more.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I believe a tour of my home is in order.”

  A love of architecture, indeed. I chuckled under my breath and followed after him. Guess that was the only answer I was going to receive. The man clearly disliked answering personal questions, not that it would stop me from delving further.

  He led me through the brownstone room by room, pausing only now and then to inform me of the room’s purpose and whether or not I was permitted to enter. To my utter surprise, his permissions extended only to the drawing room—yes, a drawing room—kitchen, gardens, and my own personal room. The other five bedrooms were off limits, especially his own. I didn’t bother to question him on that. It didn’t matter to me which room we fulfilled the contract in.

  After a full lap of his home, he escorted me back to my door. “I hope you sleep well tonight.”

  Wait, what? I pivoted toward him. “Are you…I mean, didn’t you intend to…?”

  “The first bite is a precarious thing,” he commented, answering my apparently gauche question. “It should be reserved for moments of passion or tenderness. Not as a form of sustenance. I can wait, if you can.”

  I had to take his word on that one. As far as I was concerned, blood was blood… “When, then?”

  He lifted his gaze from the carpet and met mine, his eyes aglow in the da
rkest of shadows. But it wasn’t until his mouth crooked that my body erupted with chills. “All in due time.”

  His hand grazed my side as he reached around me. My breath caught, and all the blood rushed from my head. The slightest touch, and I was reeling. He turned the doorknob and opened the door for me.

  Neither of us moved. Ethen hovered over me, his gaze wavering between my lips and my throat. My eagerness stunned me, my damned heart racing in my chest as I waited for him to close that final inch between us.

  Instead, he swallowed and stepped back. “Good night, Winter.”

  I meant to return his sentiment, but all that came out of my mouth was an incoherent and slurred response. Flustered, I slipped through the opening and closed my door before resting my head against it.

  Well, the good news was that I was attracted to him.

  Unfortunately, that meant I was attracted to him.

  Chapter 8

  Clad in denim shorts and a thin tank top, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of cereal on my lap…that was how Ethen found me the next evening. I’d woken to a silent house and had ventured out on my own, too antsy to remain in my room until summoned. Afraid of messing up his kitchen, I’d taken my ‘breakfast’ to the courtesan-approved balcony off the drawing room. Here, I’d watched the sun set behind the cityscape. The view was spectacular, the thick brushstrokes of rosy pink and orange light sliding through the buildings as the sun dipped behind the horizon.

  “Evening,” Ethen’s rough voice rose from the doorway.

  I turned, my breath catching at the sight of him. He was clad in dark slacks and a pristine, royal blue button-down shirt, half open to the wind. I caught a small glimpse of a sculpted chest marred only by a thin scar that ran adjacent to his heart. Though curious, it didn’t feel right to question its source. At least, not yet.

  I swept my tongue across my lips and cleared my throat. “Hi.”

  “I trust you slept well?”

  “The room is fantastic, thank you.” Not to mention the feather-soft bed. I’d never slept on anything like it. “And you?”

  Amusement curled his lips, as though sharing in some private joke. “Well enough.”

  And there went the pleasantries. I pressed my lips together and cut a glance back toward the horizon. The last of the sun’s rays had vanished, relinquishing the city to a dusky haze. Prime time for vampires, or so it appeared.