His hands moved from her hips to her waist and pulled her into him, hugging her. Eamon kissed the back of her neck and held her close for a moment. For a moment, her hands settled on his and tried to squeeze them. Her fingers pressed lightly against his and then dropped away.
“You should sleep now, darling,” he whispered.
Lauryl turned around to him and studied his face. His lips turned in a soft, sensual smile.
The need to feel his lips on her body twitched in her again, but she knew he’d insist she sleep. She touched his mouth with her finger and then kissed him. His mouth yielded to her and his tongue caressed hers briefly before he pulled away.
“No,” he scolded. “Sleep.”
She stretched over to his pillow. A look of contentment appeared on her face as she snuggled against the sheets. His scent in the sheets encircled her, comforting her. Lauryl looked at him one last time before closing her eyes and falling into her day sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
You Started to, but You Just Went with the Theory That My Soap Held Some Aphrodisiac Power
The sound of the clock in the hall chiming six woke Lauryl from her day sleep. She opened her eyes and stretched in the bed, scanning the room. It was Eamon’s room and she was naked in his bed. The memory of this morning brought a smile to her lips. She saw her nightgown still piled where he had stripped it off. She sprinted over, snatched it up, and pulled it back on as she hurried back to her own room.
She wondered if Eamon was home. The house was quiet, but his room had been quiet last night, so she now knew that didn’t mean he wasn’t around. How did that happen this morning? How and why did she suddenly find him so attractive? Especially when she was irritated with him before she went into his room. As much as she hated to admit it, it was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Sex before being turned had been almost a waste of her time and energy compared to sex as a vampire.
* * *
It surprised her to find Eamon’s study door wide open. At the most, it had only been cracked open but there it was, wide open. Lauryl peeked in. Eamon lay on the sofa with the folded newspaper over his face. She hesitated before clearing her throat.
“Good evening,” he said, not lifting the paper.
“Hey.”
“Come in and sit with me.” He pointed to the armchair near the sofa.
Lauryl walked in and sat down on the appointed seat. “Hard day?”
“Boring is more like it. Although, it started on a promising note,” he said as he took the newspaper from his face.
“About that,” Lauryl began.
“Yes?”
“I’m kind of confused about it.”
He smiled. “It seemed straightforward enough.”
Lauryl frowned. “No, I know, but I don’t understand…”
“How you could find my soap so enticing?”
“Yeah. No. What?” Her eyes narrowed. “And you know that how?”
“You know how.” He sat up. “Lauryl, you’re attracted to me. And we’re bonded together. Like it or not, I just helped you a little bit.”
“Helped me how?”
Eamon stood up and walked over to his desk. “By using a little trick called glamouring.”
“What’s that?”
“I removed any negative thoughts about me that you had and amplified the positive ones.”
“Why?”
“I thought since you hate learning anything, be it vampire related or otherwise, that I’d do a little unorthodox teaching.”
“You mind fucked me.” He’d done that to her when she was human. The memory of their meeting in Seattle came crashing back.
“I suppose that’s one way of putting it. You didn’t seem to mind.”
“Because I couldn’t mind!”
“What exactly are you angry about?”
She opened her mouth to speak and stopped. “I don’t know yet.” It was hard to single something out.
“You’ll have to have something to be angry with me about, though. I’m sure of that. Glamouring is a basic trick of any vampire. You use it for a variety of things, for feeding mainly but for other things too.” Eamon loosened his tie and poured himself a drink.
She tapped her foot on the floor. “You’re unbelievable. You don’t see anything wrong with what you did.”
“Another vampire shouldn’t be so easy to glamour. You didn’t stop and think. You started to but you just went with the theory that my soap held some aphrodisiac power. You lost your train of thought as soon as you crept into my room. I knew you were there. Your markers were blazing. You didn’t attempt to hide them so I took advantage of the situation.” He looked at her, her lips pursed, dying to fire back at him. “You learned a lesson in a pleasurable way. What’s the problem?”
“You know what, Eamon? I think you just wanted a little pussy to start your day. So you took the easy route and got it. Yeah, I learned a lesson. A good one and believe me, I’ll think things through. Not because you want me to but because I want to.”
“Whatever your reason, I don’t care.” Eamon hit the remote on the stereo and picked up the newspaper.
She nodded her head. “I know you don’t care.” He didn’t care. He was too self-involved to help her transition to being a vampire. He only cared about himself, his business and controlling her. Maybe not controlling her but trying to force her into his idea of what a companion should be.
Eamon looked up. “Are you staying?”
Lauryl laughed and shook her head. “You’re not used to hearing no, are you?”
“What?”
“Seriously, when was the last time something didn’t go your way?” She twisted the emerald ring on her finger. “I mean, besides me?”
Eamon studied her for a moment and smiled. “Honestly, it’s never happened.”
“You have major boundary issues,” she said and nodded. She knew his smile was fake. He wasn’t going to let her see that he was aggravated by her question. A show of his true feelings would be asking too much.
“I suppose you learned that from the capable Dr. Wilson,” Eamon said.
“I learned a lot from him.” Lauryl smiled.
“I’m sure you did,” he said. His tone was gaining in sarcasm.
“At least he bothered to get to know me before he tried to change me.” She stood up and walked out.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Your Image Is That You’re an Aloof, Pompous Snob
The wind blew through Lauryl’s hair as she sped down the beach road. She slid another CD into the player and hit the accelerator. The BMW M6 shot forward and Lauryl reveled in her freedom. It wasn’t just the blood from the very willing, twenty-something frat boy she had fed from that made her feel so alive. Feeding afforded her a brief vacation from the critical eye of Eamon and it absolutely thrilled her. She wasn’t going to let Eamon know that. Then she’d have to listen to his I told you so speech or something like it. She increased the bass on the stereo until it produced chest-vibrating thumps. Each throb that caused the window glass to shake brought a triumphant grin to her face.
She looked out at the ocean and Anthony popped into her mind. All the happiness she felt vanished. She missed him more than she missed dancing. What else would she say to him? Eamon took it upon himself to tell him that they were married and, when Anthony insisted on speaking with her, all she could do was confirm it. The hurt in his voice had devastated her. Eamon didn’t care about her. So maybe she should go back to the one who did care about her. Lauryl pulled into the driveway and scowled at the front door. Behind that door was her jailer and no doubt he was going to be pissed.
* * *
“I could hear your stereo half way down the road even if I wasn’t a vampire,” Eamon said when Lauryl walked into his study. He took off his glasses and put down the letter he was reading. “I think I’ve told you about acting like an immature idiot.”
She smiled to herself. “I don’t think listening to the stereo loud is imma
ture. And, I’m still pissed about the other night.”
He rolled his eyes. “I think you’d better get over it and focus on not being so easily glamoured.”
“Yeah, guess I should just get over being mind fucked by my husband. As long as you don’t care about me and what I think, I don’t care about you and what you think.”
“All I ask is that you carry yourself with a little dignity.”
“Can’t we have any fun? I’m suffocating here!” She clasped her throat like she was choking.
“What do you call fun?”
“I can tell you what’s not fun, and that’s sitting at home with you. All you do is read and work.”
“Perhaps you could pick up a book,” he suggested.
“I need fun.”
“I think you need to think about other things right now.”
“Will you stop thinking for me? I’m about to crap respectability! If you make me read another book, I’ll barf. I need to get out and have some plain ordinary fun.”
Eamon thought for a moment. “Alright, Lauryl, we’ll strike a compromise. If you make a more concerted effort to at least pretend that you care what people think of you, I’ll loosen up.”
Lauryl narrowed her eyes. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes, I do.” He put his glasses back on.
Why was he wearing glasses? she wondered. He didn’t need them. She guessed it was for effect. “Can we go out tonight?” she asked as she kicked off her shoes.
“No, I’m afraid not. I have work to do. Tomorrow night we will.”
“Can’t you work tomorrow night?”
“No, I can’t,” he said without looking up.
“Why not?”
He raised his eyes. “You’re nagging and that’s very annoying.”
“We don’t have to stay out very long.”
“No.”
“Why?”
He clenched the papers in his hand. “Will you drop it? I told you we’d go out tomorrow night.”
She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “So what am I supposed to do for the rest of the night?”
“I suppose you’ll have to entertain yourself,” he said.
“Swell.” She walked over to the stereo and searched through the CDs. All she saw was classical and jazz. His musical taste was nothing like hers. She liked house and dance music. After sorting through his sorry selection, she flipped through the small stack of CDs she managed to smuggle into the house. She pulled out a club mix disc and slid it in the machine.
“Nothing too loud, please,” he said.
Lauryl defiantly turned the volume up. She stuck out her tongue and started to dance around. When he could no longer tolerate the music, Eamon looked up and noticed Lauryl swaying and grinding around the room. He took off the glasses again and leaned back in his chair. Her body dipped and twisted with each annoying pulsating beat. It was nothing like classical ballet and far more enticing. She swung back around and stopped when she noticed him watching her.
“I didn’t think you were paying any attention to me.”
“With you dancing like that, it would be hard for me not to.”
“I like to dance. You know that.”
“I like to watch you. You know that.”
She put her hands behind her back and sat down. His eyes followed her and then he set his work aside.
“I thought you were going to work.”
“I was.”
“What are you going to do if you don’t work?” she asked, knowing what he was going to say.
“I’m sure I can think of something. I have a few ideas.”
“Forget it, Eamon.”
He laughed and lifted his eyebrows. “What if I want to? What then?”
“Then you’ll have to take it by force.”
“How provoking,” he said, smiling. “I’m not into rape so I suppose I’ll just wait.”
“Yes, considering how you think of yourself as this great gentleman.” She slid out of the chair and stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace.
“Off the floor,” he said. Lauryl rolled away from him, ignoring him. “Did you not hear me? Get off the floor!” he said as he stood up.
She turned back toward him. “What’s it hurting for me to lay here? It’s not like I’m in mud.”
“You’re defying me. Get up.”
“No!”
He stalked over to her and tried to yank her up from the floor. “Is this some sort of game for you?” he said pulling her again.
“Let go of me!”
“Get up!”
“Let go!” she yelled and bit his hand.
Eamon turned loose of her arm and she scooted away. He shook his hand and checked to see if she had bitten him with her fangs. There were no punctures, only the outline of her teeth on his palm and the back of his hand.
“Your habit of biting me is not amusing. Come here!”
Lauryl crawled under one of the end tables, far enough out of his reach to escape his grasp. Eamon threw his hands up in exasperation and bit down on his lower lip. She swallowed hard and braced herself for whatever was about to happen. He turned and kicked the chair she had been sitting in, sending it clattering across the wooden floor. She curled herself in a ball and waited for him to knock the table aside and pull her out. He didn’t, though. Without a word, he stalked out of the study and the house, slamming the door behind him.
After a cautious look around, she crawled out from under the table. He was gone but now she dreaded his return.
* * *
When she heard the door open, Lauryl stopped her game of solitaire. Eamon walked in and closed the door behind him. She glanced over at the clock and saw it was twenty minutes after three. He had been gone almost three hours.
“Can we get along now?” he asked. His tone of voice was low and controlled.
She knew the tone well. He was still angry. Lauryl resumed her game. “Are you going to leave me alone?”
“Meaning?”
She put the cards aside. “Are you going to stop nagging me?”
“Have I been nagging?”
“I’ll say it a different way. Will you let me be who I am?”
“Go on,” he said.
“Stop trying to make me into something I’m not.”
“There are going to have to be some changes on your part. We’ve had this discussion before.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed.
“Then we aren’t going to get along.” Lauryl picked up the cards and started to play again.
“Let’s talk on a more serious note.” He picked up the chair he had kicked earlier and sat down across from her. “I’d like these conflicts between the two of us to stop.”
“Then let me go. We’re never going to get along.”
He knit his brows together in a frown. “What? No, that’s out of the question.”
“Then I guess we’ll always be fighting.”
Eamon drummed his fingers on his thigh. “You’ll just have to forgive me for being so selfish. For this to work, we’re going to have to have some sort of truce.”
“Truce?”
“That’s right. I want you to give me three conditions you’d like to have in order to get along with me.”
“Only three?” she asked.
“Yes, so choose them wisely. Then I’ll give you my three.”
“You want these now?”
“Yes, please.”
Narrowing down all the things she wanted wouldn’t be easy. After a moment, she looked back at him. “Okay, I’ve got them.”
“Begin.”
“First of all, I’d like you to lose the smug attitude. It pisses me off.”
“No vulgarity, please.”
“See?”
“What if I told you it was part of my personality and I couldn’t change?” he asked.
“Then I’d tell you the deal’s off.”
“Fair enough. Next?”
“Stop nagging me about the way I act. You knew how I
was before you turned me so you’re stuck with my personality. In fact, you told me that it was one of the things you liked about me. So if it changes, swell, if it doesn’t too bad.”
“I only ask that you behave with a little bit of refinement so we can maintain our image.”
“Your image is that you’re an aloof, pompous snob. I don’t want people thinking that about me.”
“Your third condition?
She squirmed in her chair, uneasy about the last one. “Don’t be so demanding of me.”
“How so?”
“Sexually. When I’m ready for you, I’ll let you know. Until then, don’t push me.”
Eamon took a moment to consider everything she said. He nodded his head and folded his hands in his lap. “Now, it’s my turn.”
“Okay.”
“My conditions are as simple as yours. First, I’d like it if you would at least try to show me some sort of affection. It would be nice if you behaved like a wife. That’s why I chose you. Contrary to what you might think, I didn’t choose you as part of some monstrous joke. Second, please try to continue your education. It’s vital you do so. In the end, it will pay off. Finally, please stop being so antagonistic. You’re finding more and more ways to set me off and that’s not good for either of us.”
Lauryl wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t ask to be your wife.” She made little air quotes with her fingers after the word wife. “I hate school and learning and I’ve told you that every time you’ve put a book in front of me. If you’d just talk to me and teach me things, I’d respond better.” She sighed. “The last one, I guess it depends on you.”
“On me?”
“Yes. Don’t give me a reason to piss you off and I won’t.”
Eamon studied her face for a moment before he extended his hand to her. “I would say we have a deal,” he said.
Lauryl eyed his hand with suspicion before she gave it a flimsy shake. She looked down at the cards in front of her and then back to him. “I guess.”
Life in Moonlight: The Primigenio Tales: Book 1 Page 10