In her anxiety, she nearly squeezed the pillow flat. Endless tears trailed her cheeks. Am I Derina reborn? Is that why he wants me? Even as she denied the possibility, her heart knew differently. She had loved Swelter, had read and reread it because she’d connected to the character of Derina.
When she met Steven, she had recognized him on a soul-deep level. No man had ever stayed in her life for long because no man, in any lifetime, had measured up. “That’s why I got invited to the reader’s party. So you could meet me and see if I was… her.”
“You sent me that lovely fan letter. It sounded like her. And the way you signed your name… I swore that was Derina’s handwriting. Oh, Eve. Forgive me. I thought I could recapture what I had lost.”
It hurt to hear him admit that he’d wanted her because he believed her to be someone else. And now, when he was admitting that he loved her, how could she believe him? “You expect me to believe that I’m your reincarnated lover and that you are a vampire.”
“It doesn’t matter if you believe in reincarnation. I love you not because you might be Derina, but because you are Eve. However, I can prove that I’m a vampire.” He smiled and she saw the gleam of his fangs.
Holy damn. Eve wondered what it would feel like to be bitten. Quivering, she put a hand to her throat and kept her gaze on Steven. He had never shown her his fangs and had never bitten her. The questions must’ve shown in her eyes.
“I protected that part of my life from you. In this day and age, I don’t have to hunt humans for sustenance. Blood banks deliver. Darling, I can smell your fear,” he murmured. “Your heart is beating a mile a minute. Sweat is trickling down your brow. Don’t be afraid of me, Eve.”
“I’m sorry. This is a lot to take in.” She looked at him and saw the longing and desperation in his expression. “Do you want to turn me?”
“I want to love you. I want your happiness. I want to give you the world and everything in it.”
“In Swelter, you mark Derina. Is that fact or fiction?”
“Vampires mark their mates.” He withdrew a black velvet box from the pocket of his robe and set it in the middle of the bed. “I want to marry you, Eve. I want to make you mine in every way that counts.”
“I’m not Derina,” she said, her gaze on the box. Her heart thumped wildly. “And I won’t pretend that I am.”
“Have I ever asked that of you? A fragment of her soul may reside in yours,” said Steven, “but it is you I love, Eve. You are my mate.”
She saw the truth in his eyes. Now, all she had to do was believe in him. In them. Early in Swelter, the tortured Warick had asked Derina, “How do you love a vampire?” And she had responded, “With your whole heart.”
Eve tossed aside the pillow and crawled to Steven. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him. Then she pulled away and said, “Mark me.”
He responded by embracing her and sinking his fangs into her neck. As he drank her blood, her body responded in a primal way. Closing her eyes, she felt her nipples harden, her pussy swell, and her skin prickle. Her whole body tingled with pleasure. Then his hand cupped her cunt and two fingers delved into her pussy, curling upward to press her g-spot.
The orgasm caused stars to burst behind her eyes.
Then it was over.
Steven kissed the spot where his mark would be seen by any who knew where to look. Eve felt changed somehow, as if her soul had been forever bound to his. He gazed at her, love in his eyes, and said, “Merry Christmas, Eve.”
Michele Bardsley
Multi-published in several genres, Michele Bardsley is a bestselling author in electronic and print. Michele put pen to paper in junior high in the form of angst-filled poetry, angst-filled journals, and angst-filled short stories. She wanted to be a journalist, but after getting an associate degree in liberal arts -- otherwise known as the degree of the perpetual student -- she ended up majoring in marriage and motherhood whereupon she failed housework, plant care, and staying calm in the face of big owies.
Michele loves to hear from her fans! Visit her website at MicheleBardsley.com or email her at [email protected]
Stocking Stuffer: Christmas for Eve Page 3