expected. He pulled me away from the fridge, bent me over the marble-topped island and dug his fingers into the tense muscles of my back. I groaned. He started at the base of my spine, teasing out the knots as skillfully as if he’d done it a dozen times before. My body recognized the coarseness of familiar calluses, and a heavy warmth spread through me. He paused to tug the T-shirt off over my head, and I didn’t resist. When he reached my shoulders, which had been tight long before I leaned into the strokes involuntarily, head rolling back as he kneaded away at the tension knotted around the base of my skull. By the time he finished, the pain was gone, although it was possible that I’d fallen madly, irreversibly in love with Louis-Cesare’s hands. I might have said something to the effect, because he chuckled and brushed his lips over the back of my neck, meltingly warm.
He looked fascinated, like a scientist confronted by a strange new species: dontgiveadamnus from the phylum couldntcareless.
For a minute, I just stood there, swaying a little on my feet and wondering how paranoid a person had to be before she decided the toys were out to get her. But in the end, I shrugged my shoulders and just went with it. –
I appreciate the thought, but adornment is not needed. Bare skin will do admirably.” He carelessly let his robe drop and turned in a full circle, hands outspread. He not only hadn’t overdressed; he hadn’t dressed at all. “Many strange things are said about us,” he continued, “but most are quite exaggerated. For instance, the Norse believe all Fey to have a flaw somewhere on their person, a mar to their beauty. Fey women are even said to be hollow, with a beautiful frontal appearance but no backs!” In the dim light, he burned like a pale flame, his hair a flowing nimbus around his head. And if his body had a flaw, I didn’t see it. “ Nici un lucru sã nu crezi, cu ochii pânã nu vezi. ” The liquid syllables fell with ease from his lips. My mind was busy with other things, so it took me a moment to realize what I’d heard. Seeing certainly was believing in his case, but that wasn’t the point. “I thought you didn’t understand Romanian.” Caedmon sat on the side of the bed, naked and gloriously aroused. “In a life as long as mine, one picks up a great deal of esoteric knowledge.” “You read the note.” He looked slightly surprised. “Of course. Wouldn’t you? But obviously I could say nothing around the vampire.” “Louis-Cesare? He’s all right,” I said absently. Caedmon had my expression. “No, I did not think so. I do not trust him, either.” “Why not? You just met him.” “He’s a vampire, and others of his kind have been causing considerable trouble at home of late. It is possible that they are behind the current unrest, encouraging those who should know better to try for honors above their station.” This suddenly didn’t sound like a seduction attempt anymore, despite the hand on my thigh. “Why are you really here, Caedmon?” He tried to lift the coverlet, and I slapped a hand down on it. He grinned, unrepentant. “I told you. I have never before had a dhampir—I quite look forward to it. And afterward we can discuss our mutual problem.