He leaned in deep, taking her with him and dumping the pins and clips on the nightstand. Then he caught her wrists in a tight hold and pulled them around, crossing them at her front.
Against her ear he repeated firmly, “I’ll do it.”
She stiffened a second before her body went slack.
“Okay,” she whispered.
She pulled the covers up to hide herself and then sat still as he finished with the pins.
After some time his fingers slid through her hair, searching for any pins he’d left behind. Finding none, he deposited the last of them with the others. His hands going back to her hair, he gathered it all in his fists. Transferring it to one, he pulled it aside and kissed her bare shoulder.
She trembled against his lips. He smiled against her skin.
“Can I go to sleep now?” she asked.
“No,” he answered.
Her body jerked and she twisted her head to look at him.
“But I’m tired,” she lied.
“Yes, I know.” He tried not to grin.
“You said we could go to bed.” Her tone held a mild accusation.
“We’re in bed,” he pointed out.
“I thought you meant to sleep,” she told him.
“I didn’t.”
“But –” she started but didn’t finish. He moved her to face him, tugging the covers out of her hands at the same time lifting up to lean his back against the headboard and pressing her torso to his side.
“We’re going to talk,” he announced.
She tilted her head back to look at him. “I’m really tired, Lucien. Really tired.” She stressed the words vocally and by pressing her soft body deeper into his. “I don’t think I have it in me to talk.”
His hand came up to cup her jaw. “That’s fine, sweetheart, you aren’t going to be talking.”
Her body grew tense.
“It’s been some time since you’ve had a lesson,” he told her and saw surprise slide across her features.
He watched her struggle with her reaction. Then he watched her lose.
“Have you come to a decision?” she asked, her voice edging toward a demand.
“About what?”
He heard her teeth grinding and controlled his laughter.
Barely.
“Earlier tonight, you said you were going to choose,” she reminded him. “Have you come to your decision?”
As much as he was enjoying this, Lucien let her off the hook.
“That’s what your lesson is about.”
He watched her face working again, heard her teeth grinding again before he felt her weight settle into his side.
“I’m all ears,” she muttered, now her voice held mild irritation.
His hand at her jaw slid into the side of her hair and he pressed her cheek against his chest. He then took her wrist, pulling it across his abdomen, resting her arm there. Finally, he placed his hand on her neck, thumb stroking her throat.
“Did you learn anything about the history of concubines while in class?” he asked.
Her felt her head move indicating a negative against his chest.
Of course she didn’t.
Lucien smiled over her head and continued, “The role of official concubine started just after The Revolution when mortal and immortal representatives met to negotiate the Agreement which would dictate how the two cultures would co-exist. Eleven Elders, or oldest living vampires, represented our culture. Ambassadors from eleven European countries represented yours. For mortals, the primary concern was to stop hunting. For immortals, the primary concern was to ensure safe feeding but also to find a way that vampires could feed and still have a place in society not in shadows. As I told you before, many vampires already had what amounted to concubines, women who shared their blood willingly. It was agreed that this would be the practice from that point on. The Agreement was written and both immortals and mortals signed it.”
Lucien paused and Leah nodded that she understood and he should carry on which he did.
“Concubines were recruited from the highest-born families in Europe, aristocrats, the daughters of wealthy merchants even some lower-born royals. This was facilitated secretly by command of monarchs across Europe. It wasn’t essential that the women came willing. Most often they were sold into the life.”
He heard her take in a sharp breath and his hand at her neck gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“They might have been sold into the life, Leah, but once there not one attempted to leave it.”
“Okay,” she whispered when he paused again for her to give indication that she accepted this fact.
“The first family to come forward and sign the agreement was yours,” he told her and added, “The Buchanans came willingly.”
“I knew that,” she said softly.
“Did you know that they’d already been concubines for five generations?”
Her head tilted back and he met her gaze.
“I didn’t know that,” she replied softly.
He nodded. “Not only concubines to vampires but concubines to kings.”
He watched her face pale, felt her body get tight and she pushed up and away.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, so appalled for once she forgot her own nudity.
“Leah –”
Expression still horrified, she talked over him. “I come from a family of whores.”
His arms curved around her and he pulled her up his chest so they were face-to-face.
“You must remember, those times were different,” he warned, locking eyes with her. “And the Buchanan women were different. They wanted something else from life. Strong women couldn’t live their own lives back then, no women could. Your ancestors did what they had to do to guarantee themselves a certain amount of freedom, freedom that included safety and comfort and they didn’t care what people thought. These are traits to admire, then and now.” She continued to look horrified and dubious so he went on, “I knew your Buchanan ancestors, pet, they made their own way without men ruling their lives. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.” His voice dipped low. “And they would have liked you, particularly you. You remind me of them, Leah.”
She wrinkled her nose and Lucien thought it made her look adorable so he smiled.
“I’m giving you a compliment,” he informed her.
“Okay,” she agreed without actually agreeing, clearly wanting to be off the subject.
He disregarded her nonverbal cue. “They ensured, for centuries, that all of their line would live safe and well, even you. And I don’t mean now with me, I mean your whole life as provided by your mother.”
“Seems to me men provided that life or at least vampires did. In our case, Cosmo took care of us.”
“Yes, but for seven years your mother took care of Cosmo.”
She made a noise that sounded like a snort.
He gave her an impatient squeeze but softened his voice. “What your family does is no small thing. Without your blood, your mother’s, your entire line and all those like you, given willingly, we would need to hunt.”
He watched as understanding dawned then her brows drew together and she replied, “All those people at the Feasts, Wats and Breed... you wouldn’t go hungry and you wouldn’t need to hunt.”
“You’re correct,” he allowed. “But survival feeding is very different than partaking of an elegant repast. The vampires who remained after The Revolution as a whole crave the finer things in life. You saw them, Leah. Wats and Breed are not the finer things in life. Concubines definitely are. To find that, if not given willingly, we’d hunt.”
Her eyes moved from his and she muttered, “Snooty.”
“Look at me, pet,” he demanded and when she did he went on. “That isn’t it, there’s more. You said three weeks ago that there were not many people I could be myself with and you’re one. Do you have any idea what it’s like, second-to-second for centuries, hiding who you are to live in the mortal’s world?”
/> She squirmed uncomfortably against him and he stilled her with another arm squeeze.
She seemed to be searching for an argument, found one and retorted, “Lucien, you can totally be yourself at Feasts and around Wats and Breed. They’d love it. They’d do anything for you to be you. They live for it.”
“It’s different.”
“How?”
Lucien sighed before explaining, “They don’t want me to be me. They want me to be whatever their twisted notion is of a vampire, superhuman creature of the night, romanticized or demonized in their minds. They think they’re playing with fire or living a novel. They don’t accept me for being what I am. They’re takers, users, all of them. You see it as them giving me something but it’s not, they’re taking. I may be feeding off their blood but they’re feeding as well. What I do is natural, giving my body what it needs. What they do is selfish and greedy. Not once from the likes of Breed and Wats or anyone at A Feast have I ever met a single mortal soul who knows what I am who’s given one whit about me. Asked me about my day. Wondered aloud at my mood. Wished to discuss a book. Five hundred years, Leah, and not once. I’m not human to them. I don’t exist outside whatever fantasy they’ve created about me. I’m their tool to manipulate to an orgasm or whatever the fuck they get from me.”
As he spoke he noticed her face soften before sorrow filled her gaze. Sorrow mixed with tenderness, a look so bleak yet intensely compassionate, it shook him.
Her hand drifted up his chest, lifted and he held his breath because he thought she was actually going to touch his face in an act of affection.
Instead, disappointingly, she thought better of it and her hand floated down to rest lightly on his shoulder.
Regardless of his disappointment, his fingers captured a lock of her hair and started twisting
“Concubines aren’t like that,” he continued quietly when she made no reply. “Concubines understand and accept who we are, what we need and they give us more. Not just blood. A safe harbor where we can be who we are. You,” his voice dropped to a whisper and his face moved closer to hers, “are part of my life, my real life, not some romance novel or horror film. This is a relationship, sweetling, one in my world as it is today that is essential to me. Without it, I’d go mad.”
The sorrow left her gaze, the compassion remained and he felt her body melt into his.
Thank fucking God.
Finally, he was getting somewhere.
“Lucien –” she murmured.
He didn’t let her continue, feeling the time was ripe to make his point. “I don’t want a whore, Leah. I want you to accept who I am and what we are to each other.”
“I accept you,” she whispered and the way she did it he believed her.
Without hesitation he asked, “Do you accept what we are to each other?”
She bit her lip in indecision.
“Do you?” he pressed.
“What, um,” she paused then went on, “exactly are we to each other?”
“I’d like us to be lovers.”
Oddly, her eyes turned hopeful. “Lovers?”
Not certain of the reasons behind her hope, he replied cautiously, “Lovers.”
“Just lovers?” she repeated.
His sense of caution escalated. “Perhaps you should describe to me what ‘just lovers’ means.”
“Perhaps you should describe to me what you think ‘lovers’ means.”
“I’ve made that clear,” he told her.
“You want me to trust you.”
“That and more.”
Her pliant body stiffened.
“What else?” she asked.
He studied her for a moment wondering if she was genuinely obtuse or stubbornly so. He decided the latter.
He also thought that perhaps he actually wasn’t getting somewhere.
With waning patience, he explained, “Leah, my clothes are in your closet. My body is in your bed. I come home to you every night.”
Her reply was swift. “Lucien, your clothes are in your closet. Your body is in your bed. You come home to your house every night.”
He felt his brows draw together. “This is your house, Leah.”
“You’re wrong,” she returned. “This is the house you provided for me to live in while all this is going on.”
His eyes narrowed under his drawn brows and his patience slipped another notch. “You’re correct, I was wrong. This isn’t your house. And you’re also wrong. This isn’t the house I provided for you ‘while all this is going on’.”
When she spoke, he sensed her patience was slipping too.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s our house.”
Her body jerked and she pulled reflexively against his arms. He held her tightly, not giving her an inch.
“There is no ‘our’,” she snapped, her hand at his shoulder pressing to no avail. Still, she didn’t stop.
“There will be,” he declared decisively and he saw her eyes flash before they filled with anger.
She pressed harder while muttering irately, “Lucien, let me go.”
No, he was definitely not getting somewhere.
At her attempt to retreat, his patience took another hit.
“What the fuck do you think this is all about?” he ground out.
She locked eyes with him and demanded, “Let me go.”
“Answer me.”
She didn’t. Instead, she asked her own question.
“Is this what taming is?” Her voice was rising. “Creating an ‘our’ which means you’d be creating an ‘us’?”
“Yes, that’s part of it.”
“It sure has a lot of parts,” she retorted sarcastically.
“Yes, it fucking well does and if you’d stop being so goddamned stubborn, you might open yourself up to learning them all and understand how beautiful it is.”
“Right,” she shot back derisively.
His arms gave her a gentle shake. “You don’t have any idea what you’re treating with such scorn.”
“Oh yes I do.”
“Explain it to me then.”
She stilled and to his surprise, agreed. “All right, I will.”
He held her defiant glare before muttering, “This will be interesting.”
She shot him a look that would have been amusing if he wasn’t so annoyed.
Then she spoke, clipping out every word. “Beautiful house. Beautiful clothes. Beautiful path that leads down to a beautiful lake. Beautiful pool. Ritzy neighborhood. Going to the opera with gold butterflies in her hair. A housekeeper who launders her clothes and makes her breakfast. Hot, superhuman vampire with a great body who’s good with his hands, not to mention his mouth, coming home to her every night. A girl could get used to that.”
“That’s the point,” he returned.
“Okay then, what happens when you’re through with me?”
“It’s common practice for other vampires, including myself, to move their concubines into less lavish accommodation after the Arrangement is finished. But, if you’d have given me five minutes to explain in the last month, you would know that, given the taming, this is your life until you die.”
Lucien thought that was rather substantial.
Leah disagreed.
“Thanks, Lucien,” she snapped back sarcastically. “That takes a load off.”
He gave her another shake, this one far less gentle. “Explain yourself.”
She gave him another look, this one far less amusing. She also started trying to pull away again but he held her close.
“I don’t think I care to,” she stated.
“Let me see if I understand you, my pet. What I told you tonight is that you’re an important part of my life, meaningful to me. I intend to live with you, share my life with you, take you as my lover, something you want as badly as me and don’t fucking deny it, and provide you with supremely comfortable life until you die and you’re throwing that in my face?”
“Yep,” she retu
rned instantly now irritatingly glib. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t want any of this.” She threw an arm out, encompassing the room before it went back to push against his chest. “I don’t want any of what you said. And most of all, I don’t want you.”
His patience fled, anger replacing it. A great deal of anger.
He yanked her over his body so they were chest-to-chest.
His voice was low and cold when he replied, “I’ve an urge to call you on that last lie.”
He could see her anger was escalating at the same pace as his.
Therefore she ignored his threat and demanded, “Release me.”
His arms grew tighter. “Not until you’ve learned tonight’s lesson, my pet.”
“I don’t mean now!” she snapped. “I mean completely. Release me from our Arrangement. Find someone else’s head to mess with.”
Her words roaring through him, leaving behind that twisting, vile feeling he despised, he sat up suddenly and to accommodate him she was forced to straddle his lap.
She gasped in shocked surprise then tried to pull away.
“Stop struggling,” he demanded, his arm locking around her waist, his other hand fisting in her hair.
“Release me,” she shot back.
“That’s not going to happen, Leah.”
“You want me to give you everything. My trust, my body, my time and you think I should be grateful because of some pretty clothes and a fucking great house?”
“You missed some things,” he returned.
“Oh yes, my blood,” she clipped.
“Yes, your blood and a great deal more.”
She stopped struggling against his hold and her angry face got close to his.
“Yes, I get that Lucien.” Her voice was an enraged whisper. “You don’t say it but I know what you want. And you can’t have it because I know, eventually, you’re going to throw it away. Therefore, it doesn’t mean one fucking thing to you, no matter how you pretty up the words. So I’m keeping it.”
Involuntarily, his arms tensed, He knew it was too much and he didn’t care. He felt her pulse soar as her breath went out of her.
“How can you say that?” he hissed.
Breathing with difficulty, she went back to her earlier theme. “Release me.”
“I’ve been waiting for you for twenty fucking years,” he reminded her.