Ensnared: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance

by Rebecca Rivard

  He opened his mouth and then shut it again. “You are correct. I was wrong and I must beg your pardon. I—” He spread his hands. “I believed I was helping you—you needed the money—but that is not an excuse. Please, forgive me.”

  I blinked. I hadn’t expected an apology—not from Remy de la Lune. But it was too little, too late.

  My mouth twisted. “I trusted you. When you gave Oakley that money, I thought you were nice. Sure, you were getting something out of it, but a hundred and fifty thousand dollars is a hell of a lot of money to pay for anything. But”—my voice broke—“but you aren’t any different from my dad.”

  His chin jerked up as if I’d struck him. “Star—”

  I fisted my hands. “Don’t say a word. Not one fucking word. You may not smack women around, but you moved me around like some kind of effing pawn.”

  He regarded me a long moment. “You are correct. All I can say is that I regret it, very much.”

  Tears squeezed from my eyes. I swiped them away. “Well, I don’t forgive you.”

  He inclined his head. “Very well.” He went to his desk and got his copy of our contract. “You are free to go,” he said as he handed it to me. “It’s void. Tear it to pieces. Burn it—whatever you wish.”

  I unfolded it and looked at his signature. In the shower, this is what I’d decided—I’d demand Remy tear up the contract, and then I’d tell the sneaky son of a bitch to eat my dust. But now I felt strangely hollow inside.

  I crumpled the contract in my hand. “I didn’t read the effing thing, you know. You could’ve told me I had to tap dance naked in a bar and I would’ve believed you.”

  He snorted. “Like hell.”

  Our eyes met and his flashed the intense silver-blue that meant his vampire was to the fore. I waited for him to grab me and tell me I wasn’t going anywhere, but he shoved his hands into the pockets of his robe and jerked his head at the door.

  “Go then. You already have the money. I deposited another hundred thousand to reimburse you for your troubles.”

  I gritted my teeth. “For God’s sake, Remy, I don’t want your damn money. I want—” I blew out a breath. “The hell with this. I’m going.”

  I was almost at the door when he said, “I saw that painting you did.”

  “Yeah?” I said without looking at him.

  “It’s good—very good. If you wish, I will send it to an art dealer I know in New York. I’m sure she will be happy to show it.”

  “Not Charles Ricker?”

  “He is…indisposed at the moment. Some of his coven was involved in your kidnapping, and the whole coven is currently under house arrest while we sort out who knew what.”

  “I see. Well, thank you, but I can handle it myself. Just send it to my apartment.”

  “Of course.”

  Suddenly he was right behind me. I could smell his familiar earthy spice. I inhaled shakily. I had the bad feeling I’d never forget it.

  Remy’s hands hovered over my shoulders but he brought them back down without touching me. “May I ask you something?”

  I shook my head no, but he spoke anyway. “In your painting? Was that me—and you?”

  I shut my eyes. “Yes.”

  “That is how you see me.”

  I shrugged.

  “I can be that man, Star. I would like another chance. I don’t deserve it, but—”

  “No, you don’t.” But I turned to face him.

  He was so beautiful, even haggard as he was. A beautiful, sexy beast that could make my whole body heat with one hot, dark look. My fingers itched to touch his stubbled jaw. I curled them into my palm.

  “Before you go,” he said, “I almost forgot. Your father—my men found him.”

  I stilled. “And?”

  “He’s dead, Star.”

  “Dead?” I shook my head. “No. I don’t believe it.”

  “It’s true. Two of my best men confirmed it. He went back to the Philippines and got into a bar fight. Someone stabbed him. He died over a year ago.”

  I dragged a trembling hand over my face. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  “Star?” Remy held out his arms. “Forgive me for telling you this way, but I wanted you to know.”

  I dropped the contract and walked into his hard chest. His arms closed around me and he held me tightly as I cried all over his silk robe.

  “It’s okay, ma petite,” he murmured. “It’s okay. He was un fils de pute, but he was your father.”

  I shook my head against his chest. It didn’t seem possible. Tommy Salazar had been the monster under the bed ever since I could remember.

  I inhaled jaggedly. “You don’t understand. I’m not crying because he was my father. I’m crying because I’m relieved. I’m fucking relieved that he’s dead. That my own father is dead.” I looked up at him. “What does that make me?”

  He cupped my face. “A survivor, Star. You’re a survivor. And don’t you dare feel guilty about that. That man, he doesn’t deserve it. He was never a father to you.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know.” I pushed against his chest and he released me. “I need to clean up,” I muttered and went into the bathroom to blow my nose and wash my face.

  When I was done, I stood there for a long time, hands on the counter, tears dripping down my face.

  I hadn’t lied. I was relieved that my father was dead. But I was also so sad, and I didn’t even know why. Maybe because I was mourning the father I should have had, not the one I did have.

  When I was done, I felt empty inside—but cleansed, as well. I would never remember my father with love, or even affection, but maybe I could stop hating him. Someday.

  Remy knocked on the door. “Star? You are okay?”

  “Yeah.” I splashed some more water on my face and emerged from the bathroom.

  Remy was waiting in the sitting room. He had picked up the contract and smoothed it out. As he handed it to me, he said, “I want you to know that the blood bond—after you walk out of here, I’ll never use it on you. This I promise. Although you will live a longer life than normal—you’re not a vampire, but with as much blood as you’ve drunk from me, you’ve gained a touch of my immortality. You will stay young a long, long time.”

  I shook my head. I’d think about that later when I was alone.

  I glanced at Remy. With every day we’d spent together, I’d been able to read him better; the bond worked both ways, or at least it did with the two of us. So I knew he was telling the truth—although that was all I knew, because at this moment, when I’d have given my whole bonus to know what the man was thinking, he was so controlled I had no frigging idea.

  “So,” I said. “This is it? I’ll never see you again?”

  “That’s correct. This I can promise you. After you walk out of this hotel, we will never cross paths again.”

  I glanced at the contract and then back at him. “So we’re even—I don’t owe you a thing.”

  “Non.” He swallowed. “Non. It is I who owe you.” He brushed a finger down my cheek and stepped back. “Have a good life, ma petite.”

  I nodded. I could go back to my apartment. With the money Remy had given me, I could paint full time for the next four or five years—and by then, with any luck I’d have started selling my work. I should’ve been excited, but I saw myself, alone in that apartment, painting day and night, and all I felt was depressed.

  I turned the contract over in my hands.

  That cry had been cleansing in more than one way, releasing the hurt and anger I felt at not just my father, but at Remy.

  Now I thought about the last few weeks. Yeah, the man had been a self-serving S.O.B., but I had to admit he’d been good to me. Even that first night, he’d been so careful, easing my fears and barely sipping from me. Now that I’d been fed on by another vampire, I realized what restraint Remy had shown.

  He’d even gone after the monster for me—and I didn’t mean Lorenzo, but my father. Because I knew that if Tommy Salazar had
n’t been dead already, Remy would’ve made him wish he was.

  Finally, I thought of the studio Remy had created for me down the hall, the way he’d encouraged me to make art.

  Something no other man had done. Ever.

  “Star?” Remy was staring at me. Resigned, and yet hopeful.

  I met his eyes and then slowly and deliberately tore the contract in half, then in half again, and again until I had a handful of tiny pieces. I opened my hand and let them fall to the floor.

  Remy’s brows drew together. He glanced at the confetti I’d made of the contract and back at me.

  “I don’t owe you anything,” I repeated. I wanted that clear.

  “Ma mie?” His throat worked and his control slipped. I felt a rush of confusion—and tenderness.

  That was all I needed. I moved the few feet between us and entwined my arms around his neck.

  “But what about Oakley? You are not mad?” But his arms were around me, holding me tight against him.

  “Hell, yeah, I’m mad. But I shouldn’t have said that about you and my dad.”

  “No. You were right—I was no better. Arranging it so that you had no choice but to become my courtesan. I thought only of myself and it was wrong. My only excuse is that I wanted you so very much.”

  I shook my head. “No. You’re nothing like my dad. You build me up, Remy. Buy me art supplies, encourage my painting. My dad laughed at my art. He said”—I swallowed—“he said they looked like something a drunk chicken would scratch out. And then he tried to burn them.”

  Remy muttered something nasty in French. He caressed my face. “He was an idiot, Star. Or perhaps he was fou. Crazy.”

  I nodded and feathered my fingers through his silky black hair. “I don’t want to think about him anymore.”

  “Non? Then I will make you forget him.”

  I suppressed a grin. The arrogant Remy was already returning. But he was the man I’d fallen in love with.

  I nipped his chin. He went rigid, but I could tell it was because he was trying not to throw me on the mattress and take me right there.

  “Make love to me,” I murmured. “Not because I have to do it. But because I want you to.”

  “You’re sure?” But his mouth was on mine before I could answer. I closed my eyes and kissed him back.

  His mouth moved over mine, slow and sure and delicious. My knees turned to jelly and he gathered me closer.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said when I could speak again. “Very sure.”

  “Mon amour.” A broken mutter against my neck. “Je t’aime, je t’aime.”

  His teeth scraped my skin. Pleasure seared me from my head to my toes.

  “God, I’m hungry for you,” he muttered. “You’re like a fever for me. I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Then feed from me.”

  “Peut-être un petit goût.” His lips teased my throat. Then he shook his head. “No. It’s too soon. You need more time to recover.”

  “Whatever you say, Count.”

  He swung me into his arms and gazed down at me with hot blue eyes. “Say it,” he growled. “Say you love me, too.”

  The confusion was gone and in its place was the vampire lord, the man used to being obeyed. But I kind of liked obeying Remy—at least in bed.

  That didn’t mean he had to know it.

  I threaded my fingers through his hair and shot him a look from beneath my lids. “Make me.”

  The End

  * * * * *

  Here’s a look at some of the other books in the Blood Courtesans Romance series:

  Bitten: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance

  by Kim Faulks

  My nails punctured the threadbare rug. His feet barely made a sound as he stalked through the living room. The crackle of the fire did little to warm the icy chill that seemed to flow from this man.

  My nipples puckered, snagging strands from the rug as the warmth was snatched from my body. My toes curled, digging into the frigid leather.

  “It seems saving you needs to be a full-time occupation.”

  Heat rushed to my face. “I never asked you to. I never wanted this. My life is one big mistake lately. Jared, you, everything. I think I need to go.”

  I swung my legs over the side and climbed to my feet. The room seemed to sway. The cold air was biting, but deep down I was numb. I didn’t care I was naked. I didn’t care about anything at all.

  “You want to know what I'll do to the next creature who touches you, human or otherwise, then be my guest, walk out that door. I'll tell you this much, there'll be blood… lots and lots of blood. I'll paint the damn town in your name.”

  His cold tone stilled me. “You’re right. You didn’t ask for this, and you sure as hell deserve more. But you can’t leave.” His words rebounded inside the room. “Not now and not ever.”

  I sank back down to the couch.

  Who was I kidding?

  I couldn’t fight.

  I didn’t want to fight.

  Not this man.

  Ever.

  A dull throb covered my ribs from my collarbone to my spine, but the pain was nothing compared to the stabbing terror in the boat. I dragged my hand through the air and pressed my fingers to the bone and winced.

  “I have been running away. But not anymore, Nova. Not anymore.”

  Goosebumps raced along my arms. I waited for him to finish.

  Oceans sparkled, blending to brown as the orange fire captured his gaze. I was seized by the perfect slope of his rosebud lips, so dainty for a man, so perfectly cruel.

  Desire fractured a wall inside me, one that kept me from feeling, one that kept me from wanting and out of the darkness… something carnal slipped out.

  The fire lapped parts of me it couldn’t reach, under the gaze of this vampire I was more than naked… I was exposed.

  He smiled, and then in a second the smile was gone, leaving only darkness behind. “There's something about you, Nova. Something so untainted. I want….”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  Sparks collided in his eyes. “I want you to lay down. I want to watch your body. I want to consume this moment, and every moment I'm with you. I want to re-live the delicious torture of wanting you, of needing you every second for eternity.”

  The ice inside turned to a puddle. He circled like a ravenous beast, moving closer to brush my leg with his hand. The slight pressure shoved my knees apart.

  My thin panties strained. The elastic crept higher to my center. Quakes rippled through my stomach as he dropped his gaze. He played with me, like an animal toyed with its meal.

  I’d never wanted to be a meal more than I did in this moment.

  “Do you want to be something different? Someone changed. Do you want a stain on your soul—to be bought and used like a man uses a woman.”

  His words were torture. I opened my mouth to answer, but this was no question.

  “Did you not think there was another way?”

  I flinched as he knelt. His shoulders forced my legs apart as he dragged his body through my thighs. “You should’ve come to me, Nova. You should’ve come to me.”

  My body obeyed a new master. I tensed my ass, my thighs strained lifting my body higher to meet the slide of his skin. White fangs glistened so bright in the darkness. They were a beacon, a warning.

  “Why would you help me? You don’t even know me.”

  He stilled, mere inches from my lips. Something dark welled at the edge of those perfect plump lips. The dark drop hovered at the edge, and then fell. Blood carved a river between my breasts to veer right and fall away.

  The glint in his gaze was a razored edge. My body trembled, my mind screamed. I couldn’t move, frozen with fear and desire I stared into the eyes of the devil and begged. “Kiss me.”

  His voice animalistic and husky as he whispered. “You have no idea how good you look wearing my blood.”

  He crushed the leather cushions lowering his body. The icy air from his lips brushed mine. I dr
agged in his breath and hovered on the edge of madness. Golden curls shone as he dropped his hands to my waist.

  The edge of my panties snagged and rolled with a tug. I was bare before I realized. One shove and my legs spread. He stilled, staring at my body, until his fingers skirted my stomach and fell along the crease of my thigh.

  “You took my blood. So it’s only fair… don’t you think?”

  He lifted his head and pierced me with an intoxicating stare. His fangs peeked from under sensual lips. Molten need spilled within me. I arched my back and touched his face. “Yes, it’s only fair.”

  Keep Reading BITTEN

  Wanted: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance

  by Kristen Strassel

  “What was that all about?” I practically had to run to keep up with Nash, teetering on my stilettos. He led me down a dizzying maze of hallways. I wanted to remember how we got here, in case I needed to make a quick escape. But I was high off vampire fumes, and didn’t trust my memory. There was always the window. It hadn’t failed me yet.

  “It doesn’t concern you.”

  I stopped short, which Nash didn’t expect. That answer might’ve worked in thirteen whatever when he was actually alive, but not today. “I’m the loose cannon, with the power that needs to be harnessed. So don’t mind me if I worry about it until I know what the hell is going on.” Maybe Nash and the vampire with sour grapes over getting outbid were undercover cops. Wouldn’t that be just my luck. That familiar feeling rose from the pit of my stomach, the one that caused blackness until I found out something awful happened—and I was responsible. I shook my head and squeezed my eyes together, trying to make it stop.

  Nash grabbed my hand and kept walking. I almost fell flat on my face.

  “I know what’s inside of me, Nash. I’ve lived with it all my life.” He had the nerve to chuckle. “I’m here because I can’t control it.”

  And I thought the hardest thing I’d have to do tonight was hand Nash my V-card. I didn’t think I’d have to explain the short circuits in my brain, but since old habits die hard, I needed to play some defense.