Chapter
12
“Coven?” Elena stared at Drake. “I
don’t understand.”
“My sire wants to see me. I cannot
refuse.”
“What does that have to do with your
marrying me?”
“It is forbidden for us to marry
mortals.”
“Why?”
“Relatively speaking, we are small in
number. Only the oldest males can father children, and then only
for a short time. Thus, my father has arranged a marriage for
me.”
Elena stared at him in disbelief. “You
married me when you were engaged to someone else?”
“Yes, in a manner of
speaking.”
“Who is she?”
“I do not know.” He sat beside her, one
arm stretched along the back of the sofa. “All I know is that her
name is Katiya and she is fertile.”
“He expects you to marry someone you’ve
never met?”
Drake nodded.
“Then why did you agree to marry
me?”
“Because you asked me.”
Elena shook her head. “What’s the real
reason?”
“Because you are beautiful.” He stroked
her cheek. “And because I have no wish to wed and bed a woman of my
father’s choosing. I am hoping that the woman he has chosen for me
will be offended when she learns I have wed a mortal and that her
parents will dissolve the betrothal.”
“Can’t you just refuse to marry
her?”
“No.” His gaze moved over her face. “I
have a favor to ask of you.”
“What kind of favor?” she asked
suspiciously.
“I promised you I would not consummate
our marriage against your will, but if my father finds out that our
marriage is only a charade, he will insist that we end
it.”
“And if I refuse to . . .
consummate?”
“I will take you back to your uncle
before I leave,” he said calmly. It was an empty threat. He would
cut off his right arm before he sent her back to
Dinescu.
“That’s blackmail!”
“Indeed, it is. But we need be intimate
only once.” He winked at her. “Unless you wish
otherwise.”
She glared at him. Did he truly expect
her to sleep with him when he was engaged to another woman? She had
thought he was being kind when he’d agreed to marry her. She should
have known better. Should have known he had his own selfish
reasons. It was her own fault. Secretly, she had hoped he cared for
her a little. What a fool she had been.
“If you will do this for me, I will
find out who killed your cousin when we return. And if you no
longer wish to be my wife, I will give you this castle and the
means to support yourself for the rest of your life.”
Elena gazed into his eyes. If she
refused, would he take her by force? She bit down on her lower lip.
He was a vampire. As attractive as he was, as much as she yearned
for his touch, how could she agree to let him make love to
her?
He had shared her bed, slept at her
side. But now he was asking for more than that. Much more. How
could she give herself to a man who didn’t love her? A man who
wasn’t a man at all?
“Elena?”
“I can’t decide now.” She clasped her
hands together, then shook her head. “I need time to . . . to think
about it,” she said, her voice little more than a
whisper.
Rising, he took her hand and kissed her
palm. “Then I will leave you to it, my lady wife.”
Elena stared after him. If he gave her
all of eternity to make up her mind, she doubted it would be time
enough.
A thought took Drake out of the castle.
Standing on the steps, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his
jeans, his mind turning, as always, to his bride. He had thought of
little but Elena since that first night when he discovered her
asleep on the sofa in front of the hearth. Elena. He had agreed to
give her time to make her decision when, in truth, he had already
made it for her. Even if Rodin decided to destroy him for breaking
the law of the Coven, his sire wouldn’t take his anger out on a
helpless female. At worst, Rodin would wipe any and all memories of
vampires, especially Drake, from Elena’s mind and send her back
home.
He cocked his head to the side as his
preternatural hearing picked up the sounds of Elena climbing the
stairs, going into her room, pacing the floor. He considered
waiting until she was asleep, then hypnotizing her so that she
would give him the answer he wanted. He hoped it wouldn’t come to
that, but if it did, so be it. He would do whatever was
necessary.
He left her alone until she was asleep,
and then he materialized inside the bedroom. After undressing, he
slid under the covers, slipped his arm around her shoulders, and
drew her close, reveling in the warmth of her slender body, the
silky feel of her hair trailing over his shoulder.
Murmuring, “Good night, wife,” he
kissed her cheek, then ran his tongue along the side of her throat,
teasing himself with the taste of her skin, the scent of her blood.
A small sip satisfied his thirst and he closed his eyes, thinking
how pleasant it was to drift into the dark sleep with the taste of
Elena on his tongue.
Elena woke with a sigh. Eyes still
closed, she stretched her arms out to her sides. And realized, with
a start, that she wasn’t alone in bed. A glance to the left showed
Drake lying on his back beside her. What was he doing here? On
those nights when he had shared her bed, he had always been gone in
the morning. Maybe he was dead. Really dead. Was that
possible?
Sitting up, she poked his shoulder.
“Drake?”
“Yes, wife?”
“Nothing. What are you doing
here?”
“It is my bed.”
“I know, but you’ve never been here in
the morning. I assumed you spent the day in your”—she took a deep
breath—“in your coffin.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I do not like it
there. It is very confining.”
She stared at him, thinking this was
the most bizarre conversation she had ever had. “So, why are you
here today?”
“I need your decision.”
“You said I had time to think it
over.”
“I am afraid time is up.”
“So soon? You just told me about this
last night.”
“We are expected at the Fortress
tomorrow night.” He looked up at her. She was staring at him, her
eyes wide. “Sorry, wife, but I will need your decision this
evening.” He sat up, the sheet pooling in his lap. “You have all
day to think it over.” Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her
lightly. “I hope you make the right decision.” He kissed her again,
longer this time, then slid out of bed.
And disappeared.
Elena stared at the place where he had
been standing only a moment before. How had he vanished so quickly?
And where on earth had he gone?
And what was she going to
do?
She had no appetite for breakfast, no
interest in reading. And certainly no interest in working in the
garden. Just thinking about it made her shudder. Why would anyone
murder Jenica? Her cousin had been a sweet-natured young woman,
understandably a little timid and withdrawn. There had been times
when Elena had wished Jenica would help out with the housework
instead of cowering in her room.
Elena fell back on her pillow and
stared up at the ceiling. How had she ever gotten into this mess?
To consummate or not, that was the question.
She frowned as the cat jumped onto the
bed and curled up on Drake’s pillow.
“I really don’t have any choice, do I?”
Elena muttered. “I can either let Drake claim his husbandly rights,
or I can . . .” She really had no other choice.
Smoke’s ears twitched, as if he was
thinking it over, and then he answered with a loud
“meow.”
Elena absently stroked the cat’s head.
Bedding Drake probably wouldn’t be so bad. He had been kind to her.
He was incredibly handsome and yes, sexy. She had reveled in his
kisses. She had yearned for more. In fact, he would be very nearly
perfect—if only he wasn’t a vampire! How was she supposed to get
past that? If he had been human, the decision would have been so
much easier.
Eventually, hunger drove her downstairs
to the kitchen. She made a ham and cheese sandwich and ate without
really tasting it, her thoughts on what would happen when the sun
went down and Drake appeared. Her biggest hope was that he would be
gentle with her.
Smoke, who had followed her into the
kitchen, hopped up on the table and meowed loudly. To Elena, the
sound was oddly reassuring.
She sat at the table, deep in thought,
long after she finished eating. Now that she had made the decision
to do as Drake wanted, she wished to get it over with as soon as
possible. She had once heard a lady comedian doing a monologue
about sex. One of the things she advised women to do when having
sex was close their eyes and think of something else. Yeah, right.
How on earth was she supposed to think about anything else at a
time like that? Especially when it was her first time?
Elena returned to the main hall, the
cat at her heels. When she curled up on one of the sofas, Smoke
stretched out beside her, his paw batting her hand until she gave
in and stroked his head. It was relaxing, lying there with the cat
purring softly at her side.
She woke with a start when the cat
hopped off the sofa and left the room.
A glance at the window showed the sun
was setting. And then Drake was striding toward her, and the time
for decision making was over.
Elena sat up, her gaze moving over him.
He wore black jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt open at the
collar, the perfect foil for his long black hair and midnight blue
eyes.
“Good evening, wife.”
She swallowed hard.
“Drake.”
“I trust you have made your
choice?”
“Do I really have one?” she asked with
some asperity.
He smiled at her, a wicked gleam in his
eyes. “One always has a choice.”
“I’d like to get this over with as
quickly as possible.”
“You say that like you think it will be
distasteful.”
“Maybe it will,” she replied
flippantly. “I’ve never made love to a vampire.”
“Or anyone else,” he reminded
her.
She stuck her tongue out at him. “How
do vampires make love?”
“The same as everyone else,” he said
with an amused grin. “Why not wait until the foul deed is over
before you judge me? You might find it enjoyable.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I will never lay a hand on you
again.”
“Why should I believe you? You promised
you wouldn’t demand your husbandly rights, yet you are about to
ravish me.”
He laughed again. “Fair Elena, I am
demanding nothing of you. Only asking. Would you like it better if
I begged?” And so saying, he dropped to one knee in front of her.
“Please, my lady wife, I need you to do this for me.”
With a sigh, Elena rose from the sofa.
Taking his hands in hers, she urged him to his feet. Her heart was
pounding like a drum at a rock concert when she led the way up the
stairs to her bedchamber. Never had the climb seemed longer, or her
bed smaller, than it did as she stepped into the room.
Once there, she came to a halt. The
next move was his.
“Elena.” He gazed deep into her eyes.
“Trust me, wife. I will not hurt you.”
She nodded. She had to believe him. It
was too late to turn back now.
She shivered when he tugged her T-shirt
over her head. His fingers were cool against her skin, his tongue
warm as he laved the side of her neck. That quickly, she wanted
him, wanted to know the secrets only he could reveal, discover the
mysteries and differences between a man and a woman.
She trembled as he removed her jeans,
her bra and panties, but couldn’t deny the feminine thrill of
satisfaction she felt when he looked at her.
“You are truly beautiful.” His words
confirmed the admiration she read in his eyes.
She slid under the covers when he began
to undress. Her first instinct was to look away, but that seemed
foolish. She had seen his naked backside. . . . She swallowed a
rush of panic. But not the front.
Her gaze moved over him from head to
foot, quickly the first time, and then more slowly. He was
beautiful, with eyes the blue of a midnight sky and long black hair
that fell past a pair of broad shoulders. His arms and legs were
well muscled, his body lean and firm, his stomach hard and flat.
And he had an arousal that would have done a stallion
proud.
He smiled at her, his expression one of
utter male arrogance as he slid under the covers beside her and
drew her close, aligning her body with his so that there was
nothing between them.
He aroused her slowly, his hands
playing lightly over her quivering body, his tongue delving into
her mouth, dueling with hers as he tasted her sweetness. He could
have compelled her to respond to him. He could have forced her into
submission, but it wasn’t necessary. She came alive in his arms,
eagerly returning his kisses. He had expected her to be shy,
hesitant, but she was young and untouched and curious. He had
thought to gentle her to his will as one might gentle a filly who
had not yet learned the touch of her master’s hand. But, again, it
wasn’t necessary. She was willing and eager to learn, to touch and
to taste, to explore the hard planes and angles of his
body.
They came together like two lost souls
who had been searching for each other for years, and perhaps they
had. His climax came with hers, and it was unlike anything he had
ever known. His only regret was that the moment passed so
quickly.
Elena lay in Drake’s arms, her head
pillowed on his shoulder, and wondered why any woman would find
making love a chore. She had heard some of her aunt’s friends
complain about the sexual side of marriage, but Elena could
scarcely wait to make love to Drake again. She smiled inwardly. Of
course, other women didn’t have Drake in their beds. If they did,
she was certain they wouldn’t be complaining. He had been a tender
lover, patient, gentle, willing to give her all the time she needed
to feel comfortable with him, letting her explore the length and
breadth of him to her heart’s content. His body was so wonderfully
different from her own. She would have been happy to stay in his
arms forever.
Gradually, her heartbeat slowed and her
skin cooled, but not her desire. She wanted to touch him and be
touched in return, to feel his breath on her face, to taste his
kisses.
“Husband?”
“Yes, wife?”
She bit down on her lower lip, then
huffed a sigh. They were married. It shouldn’t be so difficult to
ask for what she wanted. What if he rejected her? What if he
didn’t? “Can we . . . I mean, would it be all right if we . . .
?”
“Go on,” he coaxed.
She cleared her throat. “Well, you
promised never to lay a hand on me again if I didn’t like
it.”
He nodded.
“Well, what if I liked it?” she asked
boldly. “Can we do it again? Unless you’d rather not,” she added
quickly.
Drake laughed softly as he rose over
her, his dark eyes alight with amusement. “My dear wife, I should
be more than happy to indulge your every wish.”