She was panting now, her hips rising. He nipped at her, then flicked his tongue, increasing to vampire speed.
She screamed. Her thighs gripped him; her inner muscles clenched his fingers. Her climax rippled through her, over and over, and just when it showed signs of waning, he tugged at her clitoris and wiggled his fingers. She screamed again, and more spasms shot through her.
He smiled. She responded so well, tasted so good. Soon she would confess her love. He unzipped his trousers.
"That was incredible." She pressed a hand to her chest. "You're so good."
"Yes?" Any minute now, she would declare her undying love. Then he would fill her and make her his own.
"You're wonderful and…aack!" Horror flashed across her face. "Your eyes are red!"
Zut. "It's nothing. I can explain."
"They're glowing!" She scrambled away from him. "That—that's not normal!"
"Heather, relax."
"Fidelia warned me." She hustled off the bed. "Red glowing eyes. Danger."
"I won't hurt you!"
"Fidelia was right about the fire. She dreamed it." Heather grabbed her pajama bottoms and stuffed her legs inside. "And she dreamed about red glowing eyes and gnashing white teeth."
"Dammit, Heather, I'm in complete control." He stood beside the bed. "I won't bite you."
She froze. Her eyes widened. "Bite me?"
Merde. She didn't know. He motioned to the bed. "Please have a seat. I can explain."
She retreated a step. "I don't think so." She spotted her T-shirt on the floor and nabbed it. "I thought my theory was right. You admitted you were born in 1485."
"I was."
She pulled the T-shirt over her head. "What are you not telling me?"
"I died in 1513."
She rubbed a hand against her brow. "Okay. That's how the immortal guys discover who they are. They die, then come back."
"I was wounded at the Battle of the Spurs." He sat on the edge of the bed. "My comrades fled, but I refused to retreat. The English surrounded me. I was stabbed many times and left to die."
She pressed a hand to her mouth and looked a bit green. "That's horrible."
"By the time the sun set, I was barely alive. Roman found me and said I could live to fight again. I agreed, and he changed me."
"Into an immortal?"
"No, cherie." He took a deep breath to prepare himself for her reaction. "Into a vampire."
Her face paled. He could literally smell the blood draining from her face and hands. He could hear her heart pounding. "That—that can't be true. Vampires aren't real."
"Heather." He stood and moved toward her, but stopped when she jumped back. "There's no need to fear me."
"I think there is. Don't you—don't vampires feed off people?"
"Not anymore. We drink synthetic blood from bottles."
"Right. Of course. You're not tempted to have your meals fresh?" She raised a hand to stop him coming closer, then pointed at him. "Alberto. He was bitten."
"And I threatened to fire Simone and Inga. They know biting is not allowed in my household."
"How considerate of you." She gave him a dubious look. "How many vampires have I met?"
"Robby, Ian, and Phineas. Simone and Inga. Angus MacKay and Emma."
"Emma?" Heather looked aghast. "I let a vampire watch my baby?"
"We're the best equipped for fighting Lui, since he's a vampire, too."
"And Phil and Pierre?"
"Mortal. We have to rely on mortals to protect us during the day because we're…unavailable."
She raised her brows. "Unavailable? You showed up three hours after Pierre's death. That was just rude!"
"I hate being separated from you during the day. I hate that I'm not there to protect you or comfort you. But I can't help it. I'm…dead."
She blinked. "You mean really…dead?"
With a sigh, he sat on the bed. "Completely dead. It's very…annoying, but it's only during the day."
"Right." She narrowed her eyes. "I guess you have fangs?"
He touched a pointed tooth. "They're not extended now. I'm in complete control. You're entirely safe."
She scoffed. "Safe? Those things are weapons. Oh sheesh. You had your…mouth all over me."
"I knew what I was doing. And you liked it."
She marched up to him and slapped him on the face.
He winced. "Why so angry, cherie? I've told you the truth."
"Now you tell me." She paced in front of him. "There are certain things you're supposed to say before sex. Stuff like, 'By the way, sweetheart, I have herpes. Or here's a good one—'Guess what? You're about to screw a dead man! "
He stood. "I am not dead!"
"Give it a few hours! You will be."
"Does a dead man look like this?" He pushed his trousers down to reveal his bulging cotton briefs.
He was no longer fully erect, but he was certainly swollen enough to be noticed. And she did notice. Her eyes widened, then quickly looked away.
"A dead guy who's stiff," she muttered. "Go figure."
"I'm not dead." He stepped toward her. "Did my lips feel dead when I kissed your breasts and sucked your clit?"
She flinched. "Don't—"
"Have you already forgotten how you squirmed and screamed in my arms? You gushed all over me." He licked his lips. "I can still taste you."
She covered her face briefly. "I haven't forgotten. That's why this is so damned hard. I–I thought you were perfect. I thought I was falling in love."
"You are. I know you love me."
"No! I can't…handle this right now. It's too much." She ran to the door and wrenched it open.
"Heather." He zipped up his pants and dashed into the hallway. She was halfway to the cellar door. "Heather, don't leave the building. It's too dangerous outside."
She stopped and glanced back at him with an incredulous look. "It's dangerous inside. I'm living with a bunch of freaking vampires!"
"We're good Vamps." He walked toward her. "We would never hurt you. We have sworn to protect you. Please, promise me you won't leave."
She gave him a wry look. "I promise. Believe me, I'm trying very hard not to do anything foolish." She turned and strode to the cellar door.
Jean-Luc sighed with relief. She understood that leaving the house would be foolish.
Unfortunately, she was also implying that a relationship with him was foolish.
He would just have to change her mind. Somehow, he'd win her back. He'd show her he could be trusted. He'd prove to her that their love was not foolish.
CHAPTER 21
Heather dashed up the stairs to the ground floor. Vampires? How could that be? But why would Jean-Luc lie about something so awful? I know you love me. His words pricked at her. No! She couldn't love a vampire. Vampires were monsters who preyed on the innocent to survive.
She slammed the cellar door behind her and strode down the hallway. Vampires. In Texas. Maybe she should call Immigration. She rushed past the doors to the design studio. Good Lord, her boss was a vampire. And fantastic in bed. She winced and tried to erase that last thought.
I know you love me.
Dammit, she was not going to fall in love with a blood-sucking fiend. A line from an old movie came back to torment her. It required a few sniffles and a thick country accent. I always fall for the wrong kind of man.
Yep, that was her. She'd gone from a control-freak husband to a vampire lover. At least a vampire couldn't control her during the day. He was dead. A giggle escaped her mouth. Good Lord, she was losing her mind.
She halted halfway across the showroom when the door to the security office swung open. Robby exited and gave her a worried look. "Are ye all right, lass?"
Vampire. She stepped back.
He frowned. "Doona be afraid."
Right. He was just a huge, hulking vampire with a sword on his back, a knife in his sock, and fangs in his mouth. She turned and ran up the grand staircase. As she crossed the catwalk, she noticed him standing in the showroom, watching her.