"Come." He senses my discomfort as he takes both my hands and motions toward the staircase. "It was rude of me to not make you comfortable here," he says apologetically. "Let's get you settled."
My mind is racing, and I can't even begin to form a coherent thought. I teeter backward slightly, but Chris catches me before I can fall.
"Sophia, are you sure you're okay?" His brows furrow with concern. "We don't have to… I-I mean, I will leave you be if that's what you wish. I never meant to make you uncomfortable."
"What? No! I just… I-I need some time," I say uneasily. "I can't just… This is really weird. It's probably because of that stupid tea Colin sends me home with all the time. I brought some of it with me and drank a bunch of it earlier, and…" I wrap my arms around my waist and try to keep from bursting into tears. "Now it just sounds like I'm making excuses."
My inner voice is screaming full-volume at me now. Telling me to go to him. To love him and to let him love me. But my inner voice wasn't there, watching this poor man get tortured by a big scary man.
Chris nods. "I understand. I'll show you to your room."
His eyes cloud with a mixture of sadness and confusion. He looks so pitiful that it makes me want to cry. I've hurt him. He thinks I've rejected him. But I haven't. He doesn't understand. Hell, I don't even understand.
My room is tastefully decorated in gothic shades of blood red and black with a beaded black chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A tall canopy bed with wispy black fabric draped over the top and around the sides occupies one corner.
"This room is incredible," I sigh, running my hand along the red velvet settee at the foot of the bed.
"It's yours," he says flatly. "For as long as you want to stay here." He sets my bags on top of the settee. "I'm sorry if I've overstepped my bounds tonight, Sophia. It won't happen again unless you want it to."
He strokes my cheek with his finger. My words catch in my throat. There is so much that I want to say to him.
"Just give me a little while." The words tumble from my mouth. "I just need to get settled."
"There is a phone beside your bed," he says, pointing. "If there's anything you need, buzz my housekeeper, Mrs. Harris, and she will get you whatever you need."
"Thank you."
I can't even look at him. His demeanor has gone from triumphant and lovesick to defeated and heartbroken in a matter of seconds.
"I'll be downstairs in the music room. I have some work I need to do." He pauses for a moment. "I will take you to the airport in the morning if that is what you wish."
"Maybe that's for the best," I say, my voice shaking. "I will set an alarm for 6 a.m."
He sighs loudly, pressing his lips together.
"Then it's settled," he mumbles.
"Chris," I say as he's walking out the door. He stops and turns to look at me. "I'm sorry."
He doesn't respond. He only nods before turning to leave, closing the door softly behind him. And as I stand there, feeling completely alone, I realize that this might be the longest and most agonizing night of my life.
Hardly able to keep my eyes open, I shower quickly, happy for an adjoining bathroom, and it isn't until after a quick shower that I realize I have nothing to sleep in. I hadn't brought many clothes with me because, like an idiot, I assumed I would have access to the clothes I'd left at my mother's apartment. It wasn't an issue when I was alone in the motel, but sleeping in my clothes feels a bit more awkward in this luxurious bedroom. Wrapping a towel around myself, I venture back into the bedroom.
There is an ornately carved antique chest of drawers right outside the bathroom. Carefully opening the top drawer, I hold my breath as I peek inside. I can't imagine what horrors could be lurking in Christoph von Drauchenberg's home. Fortunately, the only horrors are a few T-shirts with cheesy expressions on them. I select a green one that says "Musicians Duet Better," along with a pair of dark-red sweatpants that I have to cinch at the waist to make them fit. Well, if anything, I am at least festive, I think as I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror for a moment before crawling into the enormous bed.
I think about texting Colin, telling him about the strange vision I've just had of Dr. D in the torture chamber, and how his tea is finally starting to make me see things, but I decide against it. One thing at a time. And the last thing I want right now is Colin to know I'm here with Dr. D. At his massive hilltop estate in L.A. I don't need the lecture.
Snuggling further beneath the covers, I try to fall asleep. But sleep is not coming quickly tonight, despite the weariness that's weighing down on me. Why is it that when I'm most exhausted, I have the hardest time sleeping?
I roll over on my side, forcing myself to relax, but it's as if Christoph von Drauchenberg himself has taken control of my brain.
"No, I have to let him go," I whisper. "I cannot date a man who fought in the First Crusades." I grit my teeth. "The First damned Crusades. What in the hell am I even thinking?"
You would never lack for things to talk about. Ever. And you would ace every history exam that was placed in front of you.
I think about the way Chris's lips felt as they softly brushed against mine. How my hand felt twined with his. How safe I felt when I was wrapped tightly in his arms. And how badly I had wanted to be his, no matter the cost, from the moment we met.
He's crazy about you.
No. I must let these feelings pass and get myself back to Austin and away from him as quickly as possible. The vision was significant, and unsettling enough to nearly knock me off my feet. I can't let myself fall for a thousand-year-old man. I flop onto my back and stare up at the dark canopy over the bed, gasping for breath.
Go to him. Now.
"Dammit," I say through clenched teeth.
Once again, my inner voice is convincing me to do things I really shouldn't be doing. Throwing the covers off, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and shimmy back into the sweatpants, nearly falling over in the process. My heart pounds nervously as I tiptoe across the room and out into the hall. The house is silent except for the creaking of floorboards beneath my feet. I have no idea where the music room is, so I decide to follow the faint sounds of piano music until I find it. Except there are no faint sounds of piano music, so I stumble blindly around the house until I come to a dimly lit room downstairs. I take a deep breath as I move closer. Will he welcome my entrance? He hates being bothered while he works.
Christoph von Drauchenberg's music room is just as gorgeous as everything else in his house, with its wood-paneled walls and built-in bookshelves full of old-looking leather-bound books. His concert grand piano sits in the middle of the sunken room beneath a massive crystal chandelier. He sits on a white chesterfield couch, knees pulled to his chest, writing in his oversized notebook, which I assume by the focused look on his face is full of blank music pages that he's filling with his genius. His eyes flick over the top of his glasses to meet mine. My knees threaten to buckle as I carefully descend the stairs, moving slowly toward him.
"Miss Kelly." His voice is rough as he tosses the notebook and pencil on the coffee table and stands to meet me. "Are you okay?"
He stands there stiffly, as if waiting for my cue.
"Yes," I breathe. "I-I mean, no I'm not. I can't stop thinking about… I just… I didn't mean to… Earlier. I think I'm just scared." I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. "I can't believe I'm doing this. This can't work. There's no way. This is stupid." I take a step forward, and Chris's eyes widen with hopeful eagerness. "I sort of said it earlier, but then I-I ruined it, and… Oh God, I really should just say it," I mutter aloud. "Professor, erm, Chris, I mean… Chris, yes. Oh, God. I am no good at this right now." I wring my hands and shift from foot to foot. My lips tremble as I struggle to hold back the tears that spring to my eyes. "I know this is never going to work long-term. Y-you've said as much before…" A single tear falls, dripping down my cheek. "But… I have to tell you… I am just as crazy about you as you are about me. I think…
I have felt this way since I met you on the plane and I-I… Sarah... Colin's ridiculous girlfriend, said once I would have to choose love or choose destiny, and… God, I can't believe I'm saying all of this to you. And you're actually listening." A tear falls down my cheek, followed by another and then another. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since I left you on that plane. That stupid, wonderful plane."
Chris folds me in his arms before I can continue. He kisses the tears from my cheeks before his lips reach mine. I reach out to touch his face, to urge him closer to me. My hands wind through his hair as he sweeps me up into his arms so that my feet leave the floor. Not knowing what else to do, I wrap my legs around his waist and hold on as he carries me up the stairs to the bedroom. The thudding of my heart pounds in my ears as he sets me gently on my feet beside the bed. Reaching for the hem of his shirt, I pull it up over his head as he bends to kiss me again, tossing it aside so that it lands on the floor with a soft swooshing sound.
I run my hands along his bare chest and over his shoulders as he kneels slightly, removing my shirt with a hungry fierceness, leaving me only the sweatpants I'd taken from the dresser. The reality of the situation stuns me so that I take a step back, away from him. Despite the fact that I'm still wearing a bra, I cover myself with my hands and stare down at the floor. I suddenly feel very vulnerable, while he stands there, all raw power and sex appeal wrapped into this stunning, lean package.
"Hey," he murmurs, taking me by the wrist so that I am forced to drop my hands. "What is it?" He hooks a finger under my chin, urging my gaze up to his. "Do you want to stop?"
I shake my head, taking a tentative step toward him. "No. I don't. I am just afraid that… once we start, we may not be able to stop. A-and, we both know we can't do this long-term."
A slow and roguish grin spreads across his face.
"We have a month and a half, Miss Kelly. There's a lot we can do in a month and a half."
An excited shiver races through me as that thought sinks into my brain. He's right, isn't he? Surely we could figure something out in a month and a half. Of course.
"A month and a half," I say hurriedly.
"You are just as adorable as you are beautiful," he whispers, pulling me to him and pressing a kiss to my forehead. "This can go on as long as we want it to."
I'm not so sure about that, but for now, I'll take it.
My skin burns like fire against his, despite the coolness of his body against mine. I have to remind myself that while he is warm, he is not as warm as I am, because he does not have a pulse. Because he's dead. Because he's a vampire.
"I want this, Chris. I really do," I say hoarsely, running my hands along his arms, stopping when I reach his hands, which I lace with my own. It feels weird to call him Chris when Dr. D has stuck for an entire semester.
He kisses me again, this time trailing kisses along my collarbone, moving slowly down my stomach until he reaches my waist. Hooking his thumb under the waistband of my pants, he looks up at me, his blue eyes smoldering.
"Okay?"
My throat goes dry.
"Yes. Please, Chris."
I shiver as the fabric brushes against my bare skin. "You have no idea what you do to me, Sophia," he says as he begins to trail kisses down one leg and then the other.
I snag my hands through his hair, and he groans softly, looking up at me through thick, to-die-for lashes. "Then show me."
The sounds of dance music blare through the speaker of my phone, which sends Chris toppling off his side of the bed. I somehow manage to catch myself before I can fall. Using my arms, I manage to push myself back up on the bed so that the top half of my body is reunited with the bottom half, laughing the entire time.
"What is happening?" I hear myself say.
My body feels numb with sleep and sore from not getting much of it.
"Christ, turn that off," Chris groans, covering his ears.
Still half asleep, I fumble for my phone to switch off the alarm before flopping back on the bed beside him. For the first time in months I've slept soundly, wrapped tightly in Chris's arms. The sound of my alarm actually startled me. And apparently startled him, too.
I inhale deeply as Chris nuzzles his face in my neck, wrapping his arms around me. "It's 6 a.m.," I say softly, as a lump of cold dread forms in the pit of my stomach. I don't want to go home.
Chris sits up on the bed, rubbing his temples as if trying to rid himself of the pop music that has settled there.
"Right," he grumbles. "I suppose you want to be on your way, then? If so, we should get going. I've got to get to the studio today to record."
I sit up beside him, surprised by the sudden bitterness in his voice, but he doesn't look at me. He only looks straight ahead, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he awaits my answer.
"I should. It's probably best."
I am not at all convincing, but I can't invite myself to stay either.
"No," Chris says, turning to face me. "You can't just… leave."
He traces circles on the inside of my thigh with his fingertip.
"I have to. You just said you had to record. You have to work. I don't want to distract you. I don't want to impose."
Chris gives me the kind of satisfied grin that can melt a girl's heart.
"You are the best kind of distraction." His finger inches further up my thigh. "What can I do to convince you to stay? Spend Christmas with me, Sophia. It can be our little holiday secret."
My heart leaps into my throat and I try to suppress my excitement. "I-I… That sounds great, Chris, but I couldn't—"
"Impose? Will you stop saying that? Listen, if you go back to Austin after the night we had last night… we're both going to be miserable. You know it as well as I do."
"We could get into a lot of trouble if anyone finds out about this," I mutter, feeling suddenly queasy at the thought. "You said that the council—"
"Let me deal with the council," says Chris, taking my hand. "Just… stay with me." He leans in to softly kiss my neck. "Think about it. Think about what we shared last night. Do you really want to fly back to Austin and spend the holidays with a bunch of sad college students?" He starts to knead my inner thigh with his fingers and my heart quickens. "If that's what you want, then I will respect your decision, and I will take you to the airport. I'll arrange for Greta to keep a lookout for Unseelie."
"What am I going to do while you're working?" I force a fake pout, but it isn't long before the smile springs back to my lips. "Hang out with your servants?"
He nips at my lower lip with his teeth. "If I am honest, I'd much rather spend all month in this bed with you." His voice is low, still raspy from sleep.
"You know, when you talk like that, you may never get rid of me," I say, pulling him toward me for a kiss.
"Maybe that's my goal," he says, pulling me back down on the bed next to him. "Maybe I don't want to be rid of you."
I stare at my phone, waiting for it to ring. Colin had texted earlier saying he had something important to tell me, which usually means that Sarah had a weird dream, saw something unexplainable with her third eye, or felt a strange tingle in one of her chakras. He thinks he's helping in his quest to discover the truth about me, so I humor him as best I can. He is my friend, after all. While I do take the supernatural more seriously than I used to, I still think Sarah is full of it.
He'll also want me to confirm that I've found a gym and am getting plenty of exercise so I'll be in fighting shape when I get back to town and ready to continue with the self-defense training he's been putting me through.
Fortunately for me, Christoph von Drauchenberg's massive estate also has a gym tucked inside of it, so my trip to the gym isn't very far. He'd taken me on a tour before he left this morning, and once I was familiar with all the state-of-the-art equipment, he made me promise I wouldn't fall off any of it, and then kissed me goodbye and left for the studio. And after lounging by the pool for a good part of the day, I realize that a lazy life of leisure is
not my style. I need to busy myself with something. A job. Something I can do to make some extra money, since my mother ran off with what little money I did have.
When the phone finally rings, I grit my teeth and answer it. Colin's face pops up on my phone screen. He looks like crap, like he hasn't slept in days, but he still offers me an amiable smile.
"Sophie, how are you?" he asks, his voice rough from lack of sleep.
"Fine," I say. "Why do you look so run-down, Colin? Everything okay? We don't have to do a video call, you know."
He stares blankly into the phone's camera for a second before shaking his head. "No. It's just, Sarah. She hasn't been sleeping well, so as a result, I haven't been sleeping well."
"Are you in Ireland?"
"I am."
We make the usual small talk about his family, but it's when he starts talking about his father that things take a strange turn, and Colin admits he's not returning for spring semester.
"But why?" I ask. "What am I going to do without my music office buddy? My orchestra husband? Colin, I can't deal with Dr. D by myself." I feel panicked, despite the lazy, sun-drenched attitude I'd had earlier.
"My father…" he fumbles. "It's just… family business. He needs me here. There's a lot… Things have happened… Let's just put it that way. And Sarah. Well, she doesn't want to come back if I'm not coming back. So she's staying, too."
One less annoying wheatgrass advocate on campus.
"Where am I going to get my tea?" I ask, pouting. Trying to keep things light, despite the heavy feeling in my chest.
This is about more than just the family business. I can feel it.
"I've been put on a case," he blurts, his voice shaking slightly. "They've given me an assignment."
"Ooh, a big Druid assignment?" I brighten. "Were you summoned by a Druid priest at Stonehenge during a full moon? Please tell me you were."
Bloodbound Nocturne (The Sophia Kelly Chronicles Book 1) Page 17