Murdoch began pacing, stabbing his fingers through his hair, his energy seeming to take up the entire room. But he was limping. And she thought she heard a barely perceptible squeak. A leg brace? Whatever he’d tangled with had inflicted some serious damage.
“Daniela, I think I know why I’m like this around you. Why I’m always at a loss for words and gruff. It’s you.”
“Blaming much? This behavior used to impress the ladies? Really?” She turned back to her packing.
“That’s what I’m trying to explain. I wasn’t like this. I was smooth, compliments falling easily from my lips.”
“Murdoch Suavé?” She knew he hated it when she called him that. “Then what’s different now?”
“Now I fear that… I think that this… matters. You matter. To me.” He ran his hand over his forehead. “I feel a lot of pressure not to fuck this up with you.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know. A chance? To see where this leads.”
She felt a spark of excitement at the idea, but mentally snuffed it. Murdoch equals misery. When would she finally accept that?
“Stay here, Daniela. With me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “With you? Like living together?” Had his nod been the tiniest bit hesitant? “What’s changed?”
“You said that I was afraid, and I think you were not… wrong.”
She didn’t reply, just raised her brows.
“I didn’t see it before, didn’t understand my reluctance. But when I was ambushed and believed I was going to die”—he stopped, meeting her gaze—”all I could think of was you.”
Oh. She felt herself softening. I’ve been thinking about you, too. No matter how hard I try not to. If she hadn’t had her carving, she’d have gone mad.
“And then a few days ago, I saw my brother. He’s a wreck over Myst. I thought that I’d never seen a man so twisted inside over a woman. But I have. Our father was that way for our mother.”
Murdoch resumed pacing. “He was obsessed with her. When she died, he never again laughed, never moved on. He used to sit in their room and stare at her portrait for hours. I think I feared something like that happening to me, if I sought more with you. But then I realized I’m more afraid of missing this with you.”
A breath escaped her as she edged closer to him. I want him. I want reality over fantasy. “Murdoch, did you practice that speech?”
“Continually for the last two days.”
No, remember Farmer Ted! Remember Loa’s betting book! “Since we’ve been seeing each other, you’ve threatened me, frightened me, and put me in a position where I was forced to walk out into the heat of noonday to hitchhike in a hell vehicle that reeked of tobacco. When you went out trolling in the Quarter, you… hurt me,” she said. “So you think long and hard about this. I saw your frustration when you wanted to bite me. I saw your hunger as you stared at my neck. And I’ve seen you clench your fists when you want to touch me.”
Closing in on her, he asked in a husky voice, “And did you see nothing else, kallim?”
She swallowed, unable to look away from his intense gray eyes, already flickering black with emotion. “You can never touch my skin, never drink from me. I’m colder than I’ve ever been. The pain would be much worse for me, and for you as well.”
“I understand.”
“Murdoch, there’s no magic that’s going to change our situation, no way to circumvent it—not now, and potentially not ever. Do you think you can be satisfied with that?”
“Satisfied? Completely? No. But I think we can be happier together than apart.”
If he had waxed rhapsodic about their chances, she probably would’ve run screaming. Instead, he’d been honest. And she agreed—she wouldn’t be satisfied completely either.
“I’ll give this a few months,” she eventually said. “On two conditions.”
“What are they?”
“Just as before, you can never tell anyone about me. Not until I’m ready.”
“Why?”
Because I give this a one-in-fifty shot of working out. “Because I don’t want to be the butt of jokes or the betrayed one on the betting books. And I don’t want to be known as the Forbearer’s forsaken one.”
“You expect me to forsake you.”
“Any reason why I shouldn’t?”
“I’m not my history. At least, that’s not all I am. Anymore.” He frowned, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“You’ve told me that you can’t do monogamy.”
“I’m going to. Do it. Now. But you must as well.” When she gave him a “no kidding” expression, he gritted his teeth. Again, clearly not pleased with what he’d said.
“I won’t be dissuaded from this condition. You must keep us a secret.”
“My brothers will hear my heart beating. They’ll know.”
“Do you agree or not?”
Finally, he said, “I agree. And what’s the second?”
“You have to vow never to bite me.”
“I vow it.”
Don’t get too excited, Daniela!
He placed his gloved hands on the sides of her face, gazing down at her. “Now, does this mean you’ve signed back up on my roster?”
Too late. “Did you practice that line as well?”
That lock of hair tumbled over his forehead. “Repeatedly.”
CHAPTER 29
“Come on in!” Danii called to the vampire pacing on shore. “The water’s great.”
Under the moonlight, Murdoch looked as if he were actually considering joining her as she swam amidst the ice floes. He was also probably regretting that he’d agreed to trace her to the northern limits of his property, which extended all the way to the Arctic Ocean.
Seconds after she’d seen the water, she’d been skinny-dipping in it.
Poor vampire, pacing at the very edge of the sea, wanting to follow her, his gorgeous face tense. Her heart tugged at the sight, just as it’d been doing daily for these last several weeks, ever since the night she and Murdoch had started living together.
After they’d paid off the irate Sno-Cat operator, of course.
“Maybe the water’s a jot brisk,” she teased. These closing months of winter had been particularly harsh, an idyll of blizzards and negative degrees for her—and of course virtually twenty-four hours of darkness for him.
Without complaint, he endured the cold to be with her. She slept during the brief murky daylight to spend more time with him. And when they hadn’t been talking, learning more about each other, they’d been indulging in bouts of sensual—albeit inventive—bliss.
She’d never been happier.
“Out, Daniela,” he called, still pacing. “You’ve been in long enough.”
“If you don’t come join me, a merman might get frisky with me!”
He stopped and canted his head, wondering if she was kidding, growing increasingly agitated.
“Oh, very well. I’ll come in.” She wanted to walk some of the way back to the lodge anyway, and needed to budget time for snowball fights—she might let him win one tonight. She loved playing in the snow with him. When he had all his cold-weather gear on, they could roll around without having their skin touch.
As she swam in, she called, “Trace and get me a towel?”
Obviously reluctant to leave her for even seconds, he disappeared, returning moments later with one. He met her at the shore, wrapping her in it. As he rubbed her dry, her eyes closed with pleasure, reminded anew of their earlier encounter. For hours, she’d teased him with ice cubes, running them all over his body, everywhere she wished she could lick him.
“You were kidding about the merman, right?” he said. “You’d never told me they existed.”
“I haven’t gotten to merfolk yet.” Yes, Danii had relented, finally divulging the secrets of the Lore, once she’d sworn him to secrecy. She owed him her life and couldn’t stand the thought of him out there engaging opponents that would try to kill him just for being a vampire—enemies with powers and weaknesses he wouldn’t understand. “I’ve only covered the first two hundred or so beings, and there are more than can be catalogued. And that’s just on this plane.”