Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) Read online

  “Give me your hand, Anne. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, ever. You know this already.”

  “No. You promised you would behave.”

  “I am behaving. This is me behaving, believe it or not.”

  “Then I would hate to see you when you misbehave.” Anne knew it was a ridiculous statement. “Don’t say a word.” She warned.

  He chuckled behind a smile.

  She looked around the room for help, or for any distraction to the steadfast gaze he was flooding her with, a gaze that made all of her sensitive body parts tingle. She sighed. “Oh, alright. Here.” She stuck out her hand.

  He took it quickly, held it in both his, warming her cool, sweaty palm. His fingers massaged and kneaded her knuckles. His touch released tension like he knew exactly where she was stiff, like he knew every sinew and muscle of her. His hand was twice the size of hers. She could imagine those fingers working at the tops of her shoulders, down her spine. Other places.

  God help her. His touch made her feel wonderful all over.

  “Anne, like I said yesterday, I have waited for you a long time. Over three hundred years.” He gave a little squeeze to her hand. She took it to mean he knew it was a bit much to take in.

  And it was. Anne looked at her fingers, which had become intimately entwined with his. His eyes were pure golden brown now, tethering her to him in some ancient way. Part of her screamed to run for safety. The newer part of her kept her glued to the chair.

  “You going to explain this? Don’t you think I deserve it?”

  “Forgive me. I thought that perhaps . . . well, I wasn’t sure how you would take this news.” He bent and kissed the backs of her fingers.

  “You mean if I believed your story, which I don’t?”

  “Search your soul.” Those three words felt as intimate as if she was standing in front of him naked. Did he know what was inside her soul? How?

  She’d been wondering if she indeed had a soul, with all the changes coming at her so fast these days. Maybe he would have some answers. Curiosity was beginning to out-position hunger in the war for her attention.

  “So, who am I . . . to you?”

  “You are my fated female.”

  Fated female! What the hell is that? Like I’m born and bred for him? Like I belong to him? No. This isn’t happening.

  “Why are you so thick-headed? I have told you at least three times, I am married.” The more she said those words the more ridiculous they sounded, but her protestations didn’t seem to stop him. “And what does this mean, fated female?”

  A couple of students reading at the next table looked up. Her voice had carried. Anne pulled back her hand and refused to look at him. But she did want to know what he was dying to tell her. She knew her life would never be the same after this conversation.

  “I know what you are, Anne.”

  And there it was. “I asked you before, how do you know my name?”

  “I told you yesterday, I know you.”

  “But I don’t know you.”

  “Then I will formally introduce myself. I am Marcus Monteleone.” He nodded his head carefully while lowering his eyes.

  Something fluttered inside her chest at the sound of his name. “I’m Anne B—um, Morgan. My maiden name is Morgan.”

  “Yes. Nice to meet you, Anne.”

  “This doesn’t answer any of my questions. What is a fated female?”

  “Do you want to continue here, or—”

  “Here is fine. Please continue.”

  “You have undergone a recent change. I know about that.”

  “And how would you know about that?”

  “Because I am the same. The same as you.”

  A mixture of relief and fear filled her. Finally, she’d met someone she could talk to about the event that occurred in Italy a month ago. She was afraid of finding out the truth about what she was. She knew she was not human. There was a part of her that didn’t want to know what that really meant. She would use this chance to ask anyway.

  “So what exactly am I?”

  “You are one of a golden vampire. Goldens are very rare.”

  “Vampire. Okay.” She held out her hand into a ray of sunlight flooding through the coffee shop window. “See? I don’t seem to catch fire, and being in the sunlight isn’t at all painful.”

  She saw his eyes dance with something more than humor as she waved her hand around in the sunlight, twisting her fingers and arm in different directions, demonstrating for him.

  He raised his fingers to touch the same ray of sunlight, then smiled when he noted her watching his fingers glisten in the bright light, unharmed. “As I said, you are golden vampire, like me.”

  “As opposed to the dark ghouls that run around in rags all the time and sleep in coffins? The ones that can’t come out in the sunlight?”

  “Exactly. Actually, some of the dark vampires are among my best friends. But each breed usually stays with their own kind.”

  He was struggling with words. “We are able to live in the sunlight. But we still need to feed. We mate for life. We have children who are born and raised human. They make the choice whether to remain human or turn when they enter puberty.”

  “And so you chose to become vampire. You were born human?”

  “Yes. Just like you. I had a normal human childhood.”

  “But I was human. Neither one of my parents was vampire. My kind is human.”

  “Not any more, Anne.”

  The truth of his words wounded her. He was right. No longer was she anything close to the same woman she was when she left on her honeymoon. She could pretend. But she could never go back. She was permanently altered. And now would live . . .

  Forever?

  “But, I prefer to live as a human.” Anne knew she had it in her to adjust. No one had to know. And she didn’t have to join any weird vampire coven, either.

  “You will need help,” he said.

  “I’ve adjusted just fine, thank you very much. So far.”

  He nodded and then smiled back at her with those eyes and she wilted. She felt her will, her control waning. His body sat before her like a magnet, drawing her into some dark, strange journey she hadn’t asked for. She’d been made, not born this way. Someone had stolen her human life from her. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed information. How had this happened?

  “There are things you must be curious about, Anne. Let me help you.”

  She wasn’t sure she trusted him, regardless of the undeniable attraction to his lean body and the way she felt just listening to his voice, feeling his presence, his strength.

  “Look. I acknowledge I am no longer human, thanks to that bitch who almost killed me in Italy. Do you know her, as well?”

  “Unfortunately, I do. Her name is Maya.”

  “Well, if she’s part of your little group of friends, no thanks. I’m much safer on my own. Your crowd a little too dangerous for me. I’m better off in the company of my own kind, as you say. My husband and my family . . . of origin.”

  “He cannot protect you. I can.”

  She agreed with him. Robert would never be able to protect her, even if she wanted him to. He was a louse and a coward. Always had been.

  ”You talk about protection. Why wasn’t I protected when I was attacked by this woman?”

  “She won’t hurt you again. She has been enjoined from contacting you personally. She’s bridled.”

  “Bridled, as in a horse?”

  “Yes, similar. ‘Restrained’ may be a better word.”

  “So then it’s up to me to protect my family and friends from her kind?”

  “Our kind,” Marcus corrected her.

  “I don’t want anything to happen to Robert just because I had a bit of bad luck.”

  “I understand. But others might cause him harm as a way to get to you.”

  “I do care about him.” She could see Marcus wasn’t convinced.

  “Yet you don’t live together,�
�� he said.

  “No. We’ve had some difficulties.” She examined her nails, removed an invisible piece of lint from her skirt.

  “Are you truly married to him, Anne?”

  “How do you know my name?” She looked up at him and felt his pulse race. She could hear his beating heart. And he felt hers beating in tandem.

  “Answer my question and I’ll tell you.”

  “What question?”

  “Are you still married?”

  Oh, that.

  “Technically, probably not.” There didn’t appear to be any reason to deny what was obvious to him.

  “You renounced the ceremony?”

  “You mean the wedding? You talk funny.”

  “Forgive me.” He laid his palm against his heart and inclined his head slightly.

  “Yes, I renounced the ceremony. But Robert has been a little stubborn about it. He’s not quite given up. But legally, I don’t believe we are married. And I sure as heck don’t feel married.”

  “Why do you wear his symbol?” Marcus pointed to her ring.

  “I can’t get it off.”

  Marcus chuckled, revealing the crease at the side of his mouth that was so damn attractive. “Would you like me to help?” Now he looked like the Cheshire cat.

  Anne caught herself gasping for air. Fear mingled with attraction and made her stomach churn. “I’ll have a jeweler do it.”

  Marcus nodded his head slightly. “You put your own husband in jeopardy the longer you are near him. Don’t you ever fantasize feeding on him? You could kill him, you know.”

  I’ve already had that thought. Every day.

  “I think I have more control than you give me credit for. The reason I feed is so I can be strong. I may not want Robert as a husband, but I wouldn’t want him to come to harm, would you?”

  Marcus gave her one of those confident smiles. “You have no need to worry about me. I will not cause either of you harm.” His gaze drilled his words into her head

  “Who then? Why is he in danger?”

  “I’ll explain it later. Trust me, as long as others think he is your husband, he is in grave danger.”

  “Then I will protect him. And I am going to live my life as a human. No one but you will know about this. So, you see, you need not worry. I’m all taken care of.”

  “What will you do when people notice you do not age? What will you tell them, my pet?”

  “I’m not your pet. Look, all this is new. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Don’t you want children?”

  “Yes. Someday.”

  “What will you do when you don’t get pregnant? You can’t be tested or your secret will be revealed.”

  “I might be able to have children. I don’t see why not. I’m healthy, just eccentric in my eating habits.” It felt good to say it, even though she knew he didn’t believe her.

  “Do you bleed?”

  “Excuse me? Don’t you think that is a little personal?” She couldn’t believe he had asked her about this.

  “How can you get pregnant if you don’t bleed? Do you bleed now?”

  Anne waited a minute before she answered. “So what? I’ve skipped a cycle. I can’t be pregnant, but I don’t see why I couldn’t. Maybe I will when my body gets adjusted.”

  “If you were with me, you would bleed.”

  “This is getting to the point where I feel like I should leave.”

  He covered her hand resting on the arm of the chair. Anne could see the tenderness he was trying to convey.

  “I wish you wouldn’t. I would like the chance to earn your trust. To become your . . . friend.”

  “I thought you said I was your fated female.”

  “Well, that is what I feel. Clearly you do not, yet.”

  “No. And I’m not going to allow even the hint of that thought in my head.” As she said this, she saw his body covering hers on a bed with black sheets in a room lit by candles. She knew she wouldn’t have to be careful not to hurt him. She saw him feeding on her neck as she fed on his. Her face flushed. He smiled.

  “Are you spying on me? Following me around? At night?” Her cheeks flushed as she recalled her erotic dreams.

  “Oh, yes, I admit it. But don’t worry about your safety. I’m actually going to help you protect your husband. There are those of our kind who don’t think you should be married to a mortal. People are watching you.”

  “I think it’s creepy so many people want to insert themselves into my life. What did I ever do to them? Why me?”

  “Because of who you are and what you represent.”

  “Well, I want to be left alone. To live my life as I see fit. Without all this baggage. I didn’t ask for this.”

  “I believe you. I promise not to interfere. But, Anne, you must accept the fact that you have changed, and you need someone to help you along with this change. I would like to be that person. I will promise not to be inappropriate. You won’t do anything you don’t want to. You won’t be unfaithful to your ‘husband,’ if that is your choosing. I won’t ask that of you.”

  “I do have questions, but I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Let me earn your trust. I won’t ask you to compromise your standards. I am discreet.”

  Like hell you are. You’re about as discreet as an ambulance with a screaming siren running through a playground filled with children. The things I think about when I’m with you. I seem to not have a will of my own.

  Anne fiddled with a seam on her jacket. She noted Marcus had five buttons on his shirt, all mother of pearl, except that one which was slightly grey in color and didn’t match the others. And then there might be another mismatched button, but it was tucked into . . . into . . . wait. There were thirteen people in the coffee shop and they had made twenty-six espresso drinks in the last fifteen minutes, which meant they sold one hundred four espresso drinks an hour, at an average price of three dollars and sixty-five cents, that would mean $379 and thirty . . . no . . . sixty cents per hour just on the espresso . . .

  “Please?” His words brought her back to their conversation. “I have nothing but the best of intentions. Honest.”

  “My better judgment says no.”

  He leaned forward and collapsed his fingers together, which he then tented on his lap. “Trust your heart, then.”

  There it was again, the battle between logic and emotion. She looked up. There must be something else that needed to be inventoried. She started scanning the room again.

  He placed his hand on hers. “Stop counting.”

  She stared at him, stunned. How did he know?

  “Have just a little trust in me. I will not hurt you in any way, and I won’t have you do something you will ever live to regret. Ever.”

  “You promise?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’m still not convinced.”

  “That’s my job.”

  She knew he would not have any trouble with this. The tough front she was showing was in actuality paper-thin. Her resistance was futile. “This meeting turned out much different than I thought it would. I don’t usually talk to strange men.”

  He chuckled. “Not polite to talk with your mouth full.”

  “That was awful! Stop that.” But she was smiling inside and couldn’t help but show him on the outside.

  “Well, this was a good start. It’s good to see you can find the humor in our . . . our . . . situation.” He patted her hand but did not grab it. “But one thing can stay as planned.”

  “And what is that?” She watched a glow cover his face. His full, deep rose-colored lips curved up at the ends, forming a seductive smile and showing just the tip of one white fang. He had no right to look at her that way, to melt her to the core. Unable to help herself, she focused on those lips as he formed his answer.

  “I am still willing to be your meal.”

  Chapter 9

  “And where would you prefer this feeding to take place, my pet?” He was very close to he
r, just outside the café entrance.

  “Look, Marcus. I know you are trying hard. It bothers me when you call me pet. It feels inappropriate.”

  “I understand.”

  They did not touch, but the heat from his body was warm and intimate. Anne would have to say intoxicating. The sound of his voice was velvet. She had the urge to lean closer to him. His breathing was new to her, but becoming familiar the longer she stayed in his presence. She could pick out the unique resonant sounds deep within his chest of his inhalation and exhalation from a crowd of fifty men, at a distance across the parking lot. A group of teenage girls tittered as they scanned his large, looming frame bent over hers. He didn’t pay them any attention. A young couple waiting in line inside the store turned and looked back at them several times.

  “I will pick a place, then.”

  He led her to his car. The instant she sat down in the rich black leather upholstery his scent enveloped her. She caught a glimpse of him through the windshield as he made his way around the front of the car. And then he was inside.

  The area between her legs throbbed. Her panties felt moist. She was lost in this sensual pleasure, aware of the thin line between the two kinds of hunger, one for blood and one for sex. This male could satisfy both.

  His fingers grazed her cheek. His forefinger traced her lips. She parted her lips and let her tongue barely touch the tip of his finger. He moved his hand along her jaw line and turned her head to face him. He whispered, “Do not be afraid. Please trust me.” His eyes had that copper ring at the outsides of the irises, which pulsed to his heartbeat.

  She was at the edge of losing her consciousness.

  The roar of the car made her jump. The Olds was a beast, a living thing, demanding attention. Demanding to be driven. By a strong male. This male. This male who thought she was his female.

  Each time the car jerked forward, centrifugal force pressed her body back against the molded seat, and each time her head was jammed into the headrest she felt the thrust of a male inside her. Marcus didn’t try to drive carefully. His reflexes were perfect. He drove with confidence and command. Captain of her ship. Keeper of her soul. God help her, he was both.

  They drove up the freeway as other cars scrambled to distance themselves from the Ferrari’s powerful lunges. About twenty minutes later they had passed a town square surrounded by shops, and then turned left out into the valley floor, which was covered in vineyards, lush and verdant.