"After you help me through the first time, how will I be able to find a man who I can drink-"
Wrath's growl stopped her. When she looked up, she shrank into the chair. He was back to being pissed.
"I'll take care of finding you someone," he said, his accent thicker than usual. "Until then, you will use me."
"Hopefully that won't be for long," she muttered, thinking that he didn't look happy about getting stuck with her.
His mouth curled as he looked her way. "So eager for someone else?"
"No, I just thought that…"
"What? You thought what?" His tone was hard, hard as the stare shooting out from behind the sunglasses.
The fact that he clearly didn't want to be tied to her was difficult to put into words. The rejection hurt even though she'd no doubt be better off without him.
"I… ah, Tohr said you were the king of the vampires. I kind of figure that would make you busy."
"My boy's got to learn to zip it."
"Is it true? That you're the king?"
"No," he snapped.
Well, if that wasn't a door getting slammed in her face.
"Are you married? I mean, do you have a mate? Or two?" she said quickly, figuring she might as well let it all fly. His mood was already back in black. It wasn't like she could make it worse.
"Christ. No."
Well, that was a relief of sorts. Although it was clear what he thought of relationships.
She took a sip of wine. "Do you have a woman in your life at all?"
"No."
"So who do you feed from?"
Long silence. Not an encouraging one.
I here was someone.
"Was?"
"Was."
"Since when?"
"Recently." He shrugged. "We were never close. It was a bad match."
"Who do you go to now?"
"God, you really are a reporter, aren't you?"
"Who?" she pushed.
He looked at her for a long time. And then his face changed, the aggression seeming to bleed out of him. His fork came gently down to his plate and his other hand was placed palm up on the table. "Ah, hell."
In spite of his curse, the air suddenly seemed softer.
She didn't trust the change in his mood at first, but then he whipped off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. When he put the lenses back in place, she watched his chest expand, as if he were collecting himself.
"God, Beth, I think I wanted it to be you. In spite of the fact that I'm not going to be around for long after your change." He shook his head. "Man, I am one stupid SOB."
Beth blinked, feeling a kind of sexual heat that he would drink her blood to survive.
"But don't worry," he said. "That's not going to happen. And I'll find you another male fast."
He pushed his plate away, food left half-eaten on the china.
"When was the last time you fed?" she asked, thinking of the powerful craving she'd watched him battle.
"Last night."
Pressure in her chest made her feel as if her lungs were clogged. "But you didn't bite me."
"It was after you left."
She pictured him with another woman in his arms. When she reached for her wineglass, her hand shook.
Wow. Her emotions were breaking all kinds of land speed records tonight. She'd been terrified, pissed off, insanely jealous.
She had to wonder what was next.
Happiness, she had a feeling, probably wasn't it.
Chapter Twenty-six
Beth put the wineglass back down, wishing she had more control over herself.
"You don't like that, do you?" Wrath said in a low voice.
"What?"
"Me drinking from another female."
She laughed darkly, despising herself. Him. The whole situation. "You want to rub my nose in it?"
"No." He paused. "The idea you will someday score another male's skin with your teeth and take his blood inside of you makes me want to stab something."
Beth stared at him.
So why don't you stay with me? she thought.
Wrath shook his head. "But I can't let myself think like that."
"Why not?"
"Because you cannot be mine. No matter what I said before."
Fritz came in, cleared, and then served dessert. Whole strawberries on a gold-rimmed plate. Some chocolate sauce on the side to dip them in. A little cookie.
Normally, Beth would have polished the lot of it off in high gear, but she was too shaken to eat.
"You don't like strawberries?" Wrath asked as he put one into his mouth. His bright white teeth bit through the red flesh.
She shrugged, forcing herself to look away from him. "I do."
"Here." He picked a berry off his plate and leaned toward her. "Let me feed you."
His long fingers held the stem firmly, his arm poised in the air.
She wanted to take what he offered. "I can feed myself."
"Yes, you can," he said softly. "But that's not the point."
"Did you have sex with her?" she asked.
His eyebrows flickered. "Last night?"
She nodded. "When you feed, do you make love to her?"
"No. And let me answer your next question. I'm not sleeping with anyone but you right now."
Right now, she thought.
Beth looked down at her hands, feeling stupidly hurt.
"Let me feed you," he murmured. "Please."
Oh, grow up, she told herself. They were adults. They were tremendous in bed together, and that was more than she'd ever had from a man before. Was she really going to walk away just because she was going to lose him?
Besides, even if he promised her a rosy future, a man like him wasn't going to stick around. He was a fighter who ran with a pack of guys just like himself. Home-and-hearth stuff would be boring as hell to him.
She had him now. She wanted him now.
Beth tilted forward in her chair, opened her mouth, and put her lips around the strawberry, taking it whole. Wrath's nostrils flared as he watched her bite down. When some of the sweet juice escaped and dripped onto her chin, he hissed.
"I want to lick that off," he muttered under his breath. He reached forward and took hold of her jaw. Lifted his napkin.
She put her hand on his. "Use your mouth."
A low sound, from deep inside his chest, cut through the room.
Wrath leaned toward her, tilting his head. She caught a flash of his fangs as his lips opened and his tongue came out. He stroked the juice from her skin and then pulled away.
He stared at her. She looked back at him. The candles flickered.
"Come with me," he said, holding out his hand.
Beth didn't hesitate. She put her palm against his and let herself get drawn up from the table. He took her into the drawing room, over to the picture and through the wall. Down the stone staircase they went, his presence immense in the darkness.
When they got to the bottom landing, he led her into his chamber, and she looked at the bed. It had been made, the pillows neatly lined up against the headboard, the satin sheets smooth as still water. Her body flushed as she remembered what it had felt like to have him on top of her, moving inside of her.
They were headed there again, she thought. And she couldn't wait.
A deep growl made her look over her shoulder. Wrath's gaze was leveled on her as if she were a target.
He'd read her thoughts. He knew what she wanted. And he was prepared to deliver.
He walked up to her, and she heard the door shut and lock. She looked around, wondering if there was someone else in the room. There wasn't.