He never came to bed last night.
He did say he had work to do. Probably more than she could even imagine. After all, what did she know about running for president? Not a thing. Attending one campaign ball did not a political savant make.
She didn’t sleep well without him. In fact, she’d barely slept at all. Call it nerves or anxiety but she’d been bursting with it all night long. Tossing, turning, she’d flitted about the bed until her feet hung off, her arms slung around at awkward angles, the comforter stuck between her thighs and still sleep never came. Finally, she’d given up on sleep and turned on the TV.
She’d found a late night/early morning B-movie in black and white about a teenaged boy who was learning Ninjutsu in order to get vengeance on a man who killed his family. It was a bad movie in that purposeful way, but that isn’t why she watched it. She watched it because, no matter how crazy it might make her look, she was studying Ninjutsu. She punched the air and, in her mind, performed wild kicks in mid-air with both of her legs while picturing Helena’s face taking the hit. Did she actually believe that any of this would help her come late tonight during the bonding ceremony--no. Not at all. But a girl had to hope.
Now she had to brave the day. She’d showered and dressed and still he hadn’t come back. A glance at the clock told her it was close to seven. According to the invitations originally made for Dominic and Julianna, the ceremony would start at ten tonight. And still he hadn’t showed.
The bonding between two vampires was a ritualistic affair. They shared oaths, claimed vows, exchanged blood, and then at the end came the part that made Felicity pace a trench across Dom’s bedroom. The vampire giving the ceremony, one specially trained in bonding ceremonies to recite the ancient bonding passages verbatim by memory, would then ask the audience if any man or woman would dare to challenge for the rights to the male or bruid. This part had Felicity a wee bit unsettled. While a bonding ceremony fight between two women—one who used to be Dominic’s bruid and one who wanted to be his bruid—might make a great video to watch online, it was not something Felicity wanted to participate in.
Was Helena’s threat simply that or did she mean to go through with it? Felicity supposed there was nothing left to do but wait out the next few hours and find out for herself. That is if she they were still to be bonded. Perhaps he’d ignore her up here and the night would pass with a quiet silence.
Felicity’s legs dug into the pacing until her muscles started to burn. Yes, that’s what she wanted. She needed something to release the frustration building inside her. Maybe if it was frustration she could handle it, but that wasn’t the only tumultuous emotion building inside her like a crescendo. No, frustration mixed with anger and nervousness made her stomach roll and her brow furrow. Fear and pain mixed together to create a nasty hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. All of those conflicting emotions made her one wild woman. She felt on edge as if at any moment she might blow.
A part of her wanted to stomp down those stairs, find Dominic, and demand an apology for how he treated her last night. That part wanted to give him a piece of her mind about how badly his words had hurt her. It wasn’t my fault. Right?
The other emotion, the one that kept her rooted to his blasted room held her in its clutches—fear. Fear of tonight, fear of the possibility of Helena’s challenge, fear that if she left this room to find him right now he wouldn’t see her. Fear that held her by the throat and would not let her go. She was not a victim of it, but a willing participant.
She froze. Some faraway sound hit her ears. Was that...footsteps? The sound became louder, grew clearer as whoever made those hard steps came closer to the bedroom door. A flicker of fear kept her frozen in place like a statue. Whoever came for her knew she could hear, made their steps loud enough to hear from a great distance. Felicity straightened her spine and prepared herself for whatever was coming for her.
The booming steps stopped right outside her door. Not even a moment later her door shoved open so hard it whacked against the door stopper behind it making the little metal spring boing. Startled, Felicity jumped, her hand flying to her throat.
A shadow filled the doorway. She inhaled an unsteady breath and at once warmth filled her blood like syrup.
“Dom,” she whispered.
As if answering her call, he strode into the bedroom, all tall man. He wore the same clothes from last night but he’d lost the suit jacket, he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal dark crisp hairs along his forearms, and his pants were rumpled. He looked fierce with his legs spread slightly apart, his hands held in loose fists at his sides, and those eyes...
Eyes that could make her melt, freeze, and aroused with only a look, stared at her with a vibrant, hungry need. A need so powerful her stomach trembled at the sight of it. He looked like a cage man who’d just been set free.
“Come here.”
Two words but they seemed to grab her by the throat and make her breath catch with how he said them. She didn’t nod, didn’t agree that she’d obey him, she just did because how could she not? When all she wanted was to be held in his arms again, to have his gentle kisses and possessive touch drive away her sleepless, worrisome night.
She went to him, and he stepped into her as if he couldn’t wait any longer. Their bodies met: chest to chest, thigh to thigh, or as close as they could meet with their height difference.
He cupped her jaw. That simple touch eased the knot of fear in her belly, sent her eyes fluttering shut.
“I need to tell you something.”
Simple words, straightforward words. She stiffened at them. Blood turned to ice. The hands on her face lost their comforting touch. She wished it’d come back because all she could feel was cold.
“Yes?” Maybe if she didn’t open her eyes she could pretend this wasn’t happening, that whatever terrible news he’d come to deliver would not hurt as much as she knew it would.
“Look at me.”
Her head shook before she could even say the words. “No.”
“Felicity.” His voice held a warning.
Don’t make me look you in the eyes when you crush me beneath your beautiful boot. She opened her eyes. She met his stare. Hers miserable with sadness, his determined and unreadable. Those dark brown eyes searched over hers, reading her. Maybe because of the lack of sleep but Felicity found she didn’t have the energy to pretend happiness, so she didn’t.
His thumbs stroked along her jaw. He cursed low and dark, his grip tightening at whatever he found there. “Fel, I’m sorry. What I said last night—” he trailed off as he closed his eyes and rolled his neck. “I didn’t mean it. I was pissed but not at you and I took it out on you.” Those powerful eyes came back to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Forgive me?”
She read his eyes, studied them to judge his sincerity. Finding them true, she shrugged. He’d apologized but the hurt didn’t go away. “You were a dick.”
The thumbs stroking her stilled. “Yes, I was. I don’t know if it means anything but I’m under a lot of stress and I felt overwhelmed. I made a mistake and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Is that better? Am I forgiven?” His lips twitched as he stifled a laugh.
Her eyes narrowed in faux anger. “Maybe.”
That twitch turned into a full-blown laugh and the sound was too contagious not to echo. And like that, the jittery nerves that had been dancing inside her simply melted away. She didn’t know who moved first but she did know that she reached up to run her fingers in his hair. Their lips met.