by Devon, Cat
“Have you heard of Waterloo?” he abruptly asked.
She nodded. “The song by Abba.”
“No,” he said curtly. “The Battle of Waterloo. Napoleon versus the Duke of Wellington.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it.”
“I fought in it.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Fought and died. To be more precise, I fought and was mortally wounded, on the verge of death. Then I was turned.”
“Turned into a vampire?”
He nodded.
“Did it hurt?” she asked hesitantly.
“Being hit by a cannonball? Yes. It hurt like the hounds of hell had devoured me.”
She gulped. “And being turned? Did that hurt?”
“I was surrounded by corpses and the stench of blood when I heard this voice ask if I wanted to live. I thought she was a nurse or something.”
“She?”
Nick nodded. “Her name was Magdalene Dolyn. Not that I knew it at the time. Or knew she was a vampire. She asked me if I wanted to live and I whispered yes.” He paused to look at her pale face before saying, “You don’t want to know the details.”
She kind of did. Not because she was into bloody gore or anything. But because she wanted to better understand Nick, if that was possible. “Please tell me.”
He paused as if he was going to refuse her request. Then he said, “She drained me of what little blood I had left.”
“She bit your neck?”
Nick nodded. “Then she cut her own wrist with her fangs and put her wrist to my mouth. She had me drink her blood, replacing my blood with hers.”
“Her vampire blood?”
“That’s right.”
“And that was it? That turned you into a vampire?”
“Yes, but the entire process is not an easy one. The transition period is hell.”
She could tell by the look on Nick’s face that he was not going to say more than that about the process. “Did she turn a lot of wounded men on the battlefield into vampires that day?”
“No. Only me.”
“Why?”
“Because dealing with a fledgling vampire once you’ve turned them is a full-time job. Like I said before, it’s complicated. There’s a lot to learn. She taught me everything.”
Daniella couldn’t decide if it was a little twisted that she felt jealous of Magdalene. “Why did she pick you out of all the dead bodies that day?”
“Nearly dead,” he reminded her. “If I’d died it would have been too late. You can’t turn a dead human into a vampire.”
“Did you ever ask her why she picked you?”
His sudden smile was wolfish yet charming. “She’d only say that she thought I was very handsome. She liked the look of my face.”
So Nick looked sexy even with a cannonball shot through his body. Why was she not surprised?
Daniella redirected her questioning slightly. She’d heard enough about Magdalene for now. She didn’t want to hear any details about what exactly she’d taught him.
“So you were alive during the Regency period? What was that like? I love reading Regency romances,” she confessed. “Jane Austen, Georgette Heyer, Amanda Quick.”
“I don’t read them.”
“You don’t have to read them. You were there. The regent was known as the Prince of Pleasure.”
“A nickname of mine also,” Nick said with a slow grin.
Daniella’s imagination went wild with that bit of information. The rarity of Nick grinning at her again also had a huge impact. She could easily imagine him as a rake or a rogue or both. Closing her eyes, she could envision him loosening his cravat, undoing her stays, lifting her petticoats … oh yeah.
She already knew how talented Nick was at the art of pleasuring a woman. Her head was filled with the image of him carrying her to a huge bed in some drafty castle or elegant manor house.
Or maybe he’d take her on his mahogany desk in his library the same way he’d lifted her onto her stainless-steel worktable in her shop. Only in her ongoing fantasy he continued his seduction, loosening the fastening of his ultra-tight Regency buff breeches and freeing his manhood before sliding into her slick vagina. No, her slick womanly passage that tightened around him with each powerful thrust.
The kitchen timer going off abruptly brought her back from her fantasy. She could feel her body responding to the seductive images of her fertile imagination. If her response was this powerful without him being able to compel her, she was afraid to think what it would be like if he could intensify her urges and make them reality.
Hell, the cupcakes could burn. She needed to kiss him. Just one kiss. She deserved it after the day she’d had. Just one kiss.
She pulled him to her. She could see the surprise on his face and in those sexy gray eyes of his. Then she closed her eyes and parted her lips. Lips that she pressed to his.
Despite being startled, Nick responded quickly and intensely. Tongue-to-tongue, he welcomed her and beckoned her to further intimacy. Their kiss was raw and elemental. He quickly took control, doing things to her that made her want to beg him for more.
He gave her more. He cupped the back of her head with one hand while sliding his other hand down to cup her bottom and squeeze. His touch was hungry and desperate. She could feel his arousal against her. He clearly wanted her as much as she wanted him.
The piercing wail of the smoke detector above them made her ears ring and was the only thing that could make her step away from him. She rushed to the kitchen and the oven, but there was no saving the crispy cupcakes. She turned on the vent fan over the stove to get the smoke out.
She welcomed the baking disaster as a distraction. Otherwise she could be having sex with a vampire right now. Was that even possible?
It had certainly felt possible. In fact, it had felt downright probable.
Okay, the truth was that it had felt inevitable, out-of-this-world meant-to-be kind of stuff. She was talking fireworks and exploding stars with the tantalizing promise of the best orgasm ever.
Instead piercing alarms had gone off over her head. It was fate’s way of telling her to step away from the sexy vampire before she did something she’d regret.
Daniella tossed the blackened cupcakes into the trash, which was where she should be dumping her naughty thoughts about Nick as well.
If only it was that easy.
“So how are we going to handle this bodyguard stuff?” she said, rather proud of how matter-of-fact her voice sounded considering the R-rated thoughts recently racing through her mind.
“You just go to bed like you usually would,” he said.
“And forget there’s a vampire in my living room?”
“That would be good.”
“That would be impossible,” she said. “You must have a plan.”
“Of course I have a plan.”
“Okay.” She waited. Nothing but silence. “So what is it and why are you so reluctant to tell me about it? It’s because I’m not going to like it, right?”
“No, not right. You go to bed in your bedroom and I stay here in the living room,” he said before adding, “You keep your door open.”
“In your dreams.”
“Partially open.”
“Why? So you can spy on me?”
“So I can detect the scent of a vampire before he enters your bedroom through a window,” he said,
Daniella sank into a dining room chair before reaching for her laptap on the table.
“What are you doing?” he said.
“Googling. I thought I heard someplace that vampires can only go where they are invited. I realize I invited you and Pat and Bruce into my apartment. But I don’t intend to invite any other vampires in,” she said, before adding, “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Here, look.” She pointed to the screen of her laptop. “It says right here that one of the old folklore legends is that a vampire has to be invited across a threshold to enter
a house.” She paused to look at Nick. “Is it true and does an apartment count?”
“Yes to both questions. But a window isn’t a threshold per se. It’s a gray area for some clans.”
“So what am I supposed to do?”
“You’re supposed to let me protect you,” he said.
“For how long?”
“For as long as needed.”
“I can’t deal with that,” she said, trying not to hyperventilate. “I can only deal with one night at a time.”
“Fine. We’ll start out with that.”
“Do vampires leave the toilet seat up?” She had no idea where that came from, but the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. But I do not want to be falling into my john in the middle of the night.”
“Understood.” His lips lifted just a smidge in what she could only describe as a wry smile.
“I’m serious.”
He nodded solemnly. “I know you are.”
“I’m not ready for bed yet.” She plunked herself onto the couch. The truth was, she wasn’t ready to leave herself vulnerable with him so nearby. She needed to rebuild her resistance, brick by brick.
“Okay,” he said. “What do you normally do when you can’t sleep?”
She hadn’t said she couldn’t sleep, exactly, but she didn’t correct him. Instead she said, “I’d watch a DVD of a movie.”
“Go ahead and do that then.”
Daniella shook her head. “You wouldn’t be able to cope with my choice of movie.”
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Because they are all chick flicks.” She pointed to the slight grimace that crossed his face. “I saw that.”
“You saw nothing.”
His words aggravated her. So did the way he said them, as if she were a silly child. “Don’t tell me what I saw. I saw you move at freaky fast speed, I saw your bloody wound heal at the speed of light, and yes, I just saw you make a face at chick flicks. Don’t even bother denying it.”
“I don’t watch many movies.”
“You will if you stay here,” she said. She did experience a brief pang of guilt at being an unwelcoming hostess. After all, he was only acting in her best interest. Or so he said.
Nick was trying to protect her from evil banker vampires. She should be grateful. That could happen, but emotionally she wasn’t there yet.
“I also watch shows on the Food Network,” she added for good measure.
“I’ve experienced worse.”
His words made her curious about his past. “What’s it like?”
“Being a vampire?”
She nodded.
“It’s no piece of cupcake. Not that I’ve ever had a cupcake.”
“Never?” This news shocked her nearly as much as the fact that he had fangs. “I can’t imagine that.” She got up and retrieved her laptop before returning to the couch.
“What are you doing now?”
“Googling the history of cupcakes.” She paused to read what was on the screen. “You’re right. They don’t think cupcakes were around until perhaps the 1820s. That’s really close to your time, though.”
“Close but no cigar.” Seeing her look, he added, “Do not ask me what that means as I have no idea.”
“Do you want me to Google it for you?”
“No.” He sat on the couch beside her.
“What else can you tell me about your time? Did you have parents? Well, obviously you must have had parents. You were human once, right?”
He studied her closely for a moment before slowly saying, “I had parents. I was adopted.” He seemed to be eyeing her expectantly.
She was hesitant to confess that she, too, was adopted. Some instinct inside her warned her to wait.
Keeping the focus on him, she said, “What were your adoptive parents like?”
“They were good people.”
That was rather vague in her opinion. “Was your father in the army?
“No.”
“What did he do for a living?”
“He ran his estate. Marchmore in Gloucestershire.”
For the first time, she detected a hint of an English accent in his voice. “Was he a duke or an earl or something?”
“Or something.”
“Was he a vampire?”
“No.” He sounded outraged by her question. “I told you, I had no idea about vampires until I was mortally wounded on the battlefield at Waterloo.”
“Right.” She looked at his face. That much of his story she believed. “You really were adopted by British royalty?”
“It’s not as if the Prince of Wales adopted me, although he was rumored to have several illegitimate children.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You can Google it if you don’t believe me,” he said.
“No, I do believe you.” She closed her laptop and turned to face him. “So you were an aristocrat?”
He nodded.
“Did you always know you were adopted?”
A cryptic look crossed his face … part pain, part something else. “No.”
It was that expression and the conflict in his stormy eyes that made her say, “I’m adopted, too.”
He leaned forward. “You are?”
She nodded.
He repeated her earlier question back to her. “Did you always know you were adopted?”
“Yes.”
“You never mentioned it to me before.”
“You never mentioned you were a vampire before.”
“You know the reason for that. Is there a reason you keep the fact that you’re adopted a secret?”
“I don’t keep it a secret.”
“What do you know about your birth mother?” he asked.
“She died when I was born. She was a cousin of my mom’s.” Daniella yawned. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day, you know?”
Nick nodded. “You should go to bed.”
She shook her head. “I’m not ready yet.”
“Then at least lie down here on the couch.” He moved to a nearby chair.
She reached for the remote before stacking the throw pillows in the corner of the couch and getting horizontal. A moment later, the opening credits for the movie The Proposal filled the screen.
* * *
Two hours later, or one hour and forty-eight minutes to be precise, Nick watched the end credits roll for the movie. Daniella had been right. Chick flicks weren’t his cup of tea, although he did enjoy the lead actress’s nude scene when she ran into the hero.
Perhaps something like that would happen while he protected Daniella.
She’d fallen asleep on the couch about twenty minutes ago. The truth was that he’d spent more time watching her than he had the end of the movie. She was curled on her side, her hand tucked under her cheek, a strand of her hair sliding down over her face.
Reaching out, he smoothed the silky strand away before yanking his hand back as if burned.
Shit, he was getting too emotional about all this. About her.
Hell, yes, the truth was that he’d kept his eyes on her instead of the flat-screen TV—but the truth also was that he’d lied to her about being adopted. It had been a deliberate move on his part. He didn’t expect the slight pang of guilt as he got out his smartphone and he texted the info about her birth mother to Neville on a secure vamp account.
He’d done what he’d done to protect his clan. Yet now his job was also to protect Daniella.
He set the smartphone aside and reached for a soft throw from the arm of the couch. Tucking it around Daniella, he wondered if he should carry her to bed. Would it freak her more to find herself in her bedroom or still on the couch?
Why did he care how freaked she got?
Because a calmer Daniella meant a more obedient Daniella, and that would make his bodyguarding duties easier. If she’d been fifty years older and not had this hold over him, that would also have
made his duties easier.
Vampires and humans having sex never worked out well. In fact, it often resulted in dangerous if not deadly results. Vampires experienced everything with heightened senses, including desire. Nick wanted her more than he wanted blood, and that was saying something. What it said was that he was in deep shit here.
Chapter Fifteen
Six days later, the day before Halloween, Daniella was in her cupcake shop mixing, baking, and frosting before daybreak as usual.
What wasn’t usual was that she had a vampire living with her. She’d survived six long days and nights with Nick in close quarters. She’d been careful not to kiss him again. He’d shown similar restraint. But the sexual tension between them continued to grow despite the fact that neither one of them acted on it … or even talked about it.
Daniella had ditched the romantic comedies and instead chosen the Food Network for late night viewing. After falling asleep that first night on the couch, she’d stuck to her bedroom, going into her bathroom to change into a pair of cotton flannel pajamas that weren’t at all sexy. She continued to have sex-ridden Regency dreams every night and may even have moaned in her sleep although she sure hoped not. If he heard her, maybe Nick thought she was having a vampire nightmare instead of a vampire wet dream.
“I think it’s so awesome that your man can’t stand to be away from you for a minute,” Xandra said as she frosted a batch of mocha latte cupcakes.
He’s not a man, he’s a vampire, was Daniella’s first thought. A Regency vampire with the nickname Prince of Pleasure.
He even looked like a Regency rake at the moment. His dark hair tumbled over his forehead with Byronesque flair. All he needed was a cravat. Or to walk out of a pool the way Colin Firth did as Mr. Darcy in the BBC production of Pride and Prejudice all wet and sexy.
Daniella had actually seen Nick wet and sexy in the shower. Well, not actually in the shower but just out of it, with a towel hanging low on his hips—very low and just barely hanging on as she’d just barely hung on to the door frame when he’d emerged from her bathroom with droplets of water meandering down his bare muscular chest.
No one, human or vampire, had the right to look that good.
She vigorously beat the batter for the next batch of cupcakes, a new maple bacon spice version. Business had continued to be brisk all week, with several foodie blogs listing their approval of her cupcakes. A reporter with the local ABC affiliate had emailed her to set up an appointment to interview her next week. She had no idea how she would explain her vampire boyfriend’s appearance at her side.