When he felt her teeth on his fingers as the blood slowed, he wrapped his arms tightly around her.
“Anastazia,” he commanded, “you must come back to me. Now.” Like that she was there, gasping, shuddering.
He turned her to face him and held her tightly against him as a low-pitched cry escaped her. Her eyes wide as the events flooded back, she took a deep shuddering breath and moaned in despair and shame.
“Oh, Matthias—”
“It’s okay. Let it out.”
She clutched him, wailing, her pain so deep he knew it felt, to her, like it had no bottom.
The bathroom door opened, and Robertson stuck his head in. Matthias shook his head, and Robertson disappeared, knowing Matthias was the only one who could help her now.
She cried herself hoarse, resting her head against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she moaned. “How can you ever forgive me?”
“I forgive you because I love you. I just hope you can forgive me for not protecting you.”
She sobbed against his shoulder, and he knew she would eventually be okay, even if she didn’t think so. He reached over and ran more warm water, not letting go of her. After a while she quieted, her eyes open and staring at the ring on her hand.
“I couldn’t stop,” she whispered. “I wanted to kill Caroline. And then you almost…because of me.”
He kissed her forehead. “No. It’s not your fault.”
With the water supporting them, he gathered her to him, trailed kisses down her neck and over her breasts. His lips settled first on one breast, teasing her, eventually drawing content sighs from her, and then the other. She relaxed against him, her breath quickening.
“It’s not your fault,” he repeated, one hand sliding between her legs. He kissed her, his tongue exploring her lips and relief flooding his heart when she responded, moaning into his mouth while his fingers stroked her clit and pussy.
He rolled onto his back, pulling her to him. His cock easily slipped inside her. He held still, her legs wrapped around his waist, both of them weightless in the water. He kissed her, touching her mind again.
“I am yours, forever, Anastazia. I will never leave you unless you tell me to go.”
She kissed him back then rolled her hips against him, impaling herself even more deeply on his cock.
“Please take me, Matthias.”
He did. He grabbed her hips and fucked her, hard, fast, furiously, wanting to show her how much he loved her. Wanting to come deep inside her pussy, to become a part of her.
She met every thrust, her swollen clit rubbing against him and making her come first. He held back despite his aching cock and balls wanting to explode. He wanted more from her.
Taz came again, moaning his name as her head dropped to his shoulder.
“One more, love,” he whispered. “Give it to me.”
Her nails raked down his back, adding a delicious hint of pain to his building release.
Then he felt her climax again, her pussy squeezing him. “That’s it, baby.” He finally let go, and together they moaned, trembling, eventually falling still and sinking deeper into the water.
He wrapped his arms tightly around her. “I’ve got you, love,” he whispered. “I promise, I’ll never let you go.”
It took Matthias a couple of days to fully coax Taz out of her shell. She didn’t want to see anyone, not even Robertson. Matthias brought all her meals to her, held her, talked with her. Three days later, he woke to find her sitting by the bedroom window and staring out at the rose garden.
He went to her, kneeling at her feet and taking her hands. “Are you okay?”
She smiled, careworn and full of regret. “Not yet, but I think I will be. One day.”
“I’m sorry, Taz. I’m so sorry it happened like this.”
“I know, Matthias. I’m sorry, too.”
He kissed her right hand, where Rafe’s ring was warm against her skin. He knew she would never take it off, a constant reminder of her need to control who she was becoming. “Stay here.”
Matthias went to the dresser, took something out, and then returned and knelt beside her.
He held her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger. It was a gold band with diamonds and amethyst channel set and twined around a diamond solitaire. Around the band were tiny engraved symbols in a language she couldn’t read.
“I loved Rafe,” Matthias said with a playful smile, “but I admit I’m jealous his ring was on your hand before mine.”
She smiled, looking at it. “What does it say?”
“‘I am my Beloved’s, and my Beloved is mine.’”
“That’s beautiful.”
“Song of Solomon.” He smiled, and the symbolic irony wasn’t lost on her. Vampires quoting the Bible. “Will you marry me?”
She nodded, throwing her arms around him. After they took a shower, she followed him downstairs to eat.
“I have something else for you,” Matthias said after breakfast. “A present I’ve been wanting to give you for a while.”
“What is it?”
He pushed back from the table and stood, holding his hand out to her. She took it, and he hooked his arm through hers. They walked outside and across the yard to the detached garage, where she knew he kept several other cars, separate from the ones garaged at the house.
Robertson and Albert followed. Matthias stopped before one of the closed garage bays. Robertson, she noted, held a remote control. Matthias stood behind her and gently put his hands over her eyes.
“Okay,” Matthias said.
She heard the door swing open, and then Matthias whispered in her ear, “I will give you anything you wish, my love. Anything within my power to give you.” Then he removed his hands.
In the garage was a 1965 Mustang coupe. Red.
Her heart skipped. “It looks like the one my dad used to have,” she said, walking into the garage and running her hand over the car.
She stooped down to look in the open driver’s side window. That was when she saw it—the small scratch in the center of the steering wheel, on the emblem. She remembered that scratch because she accidentally put it there with the key, remembered feeling horrible about doing it, when she was seventeen.
Turning, she saw Matthias’ proud smile. “Is it?”
Matthias nodded while Robertson beamed. “I told him when your dad wanted to sell it,” Robertson said. “He bought it, wanted to keep it for you.”
She felt the tears rolling down her face. Matthias put his arms around her. “I thought maybe you might want it, one day. If not, I knew I did.”
She squeezed him tightly, beyond words, knowing she could never love anyone as much as she loved that man at that moment in time.
When she wiped her eyes and regained her composure, she saw the blue ’68 in the next bay, back from California. Realization struck. “I asked you how long you’d owned it, and you said a few years.”
He shrugged.
“You bought it new, didn’t you?”
“How was I supposed to tell you that back then? It was the first one Bill Currie Ford received that year, down in Tampa. I paid extra for the privilege, just to have it.”
They went for a long drive in the ’65, Taz behind the wheel, and ended up in Tarpon Springs. He enjoyed giving her a tour of the quaint town. He took her to the Plaka Restaurant, a small Greek restaurant with excellent food. He even knew the owners, and she was welcomed like family.
It was a good feeling, something she never experienced before. Belonging.
She offered Matthias the keys for the return trip.
“Are you sure?”