So in an effort to shield her, Lucien lied.
He moved his hips and her muscles contracted deliciously around his still-hard cock.
“I think the answer to that is fairly obvious, pet.”
“I… you… we,” she stammered, “it’s never been like that.”
His fingers sifted in her hair and he murmured, “We’ve only been lovers one night, Leah.”
Her body jerked and he caught her again before her movements could break their joining, something which he was compelled to prolong, again for reasons unknown.
“I don’t mean it’s never been like that between you and me. I mean it’s never been like that for me ever. Maybe for any woman in the history of time.”
Drama, he thought in a moment of amusement before his gut clenched in memory.
I’m not being dramatic! she retorted and his body jolted in shock.
He hadn’t been speaking to her. Or, more accurately, he hadn’t meant for her to hear.
“Did you hear me?” he asked.
“Yes, you were talking to me. Or, I should say, making fun of me.” She tried to move again but he kept her pinned to him. “Let me up,” she demanded.
His arms grew tight before he responded, “I want to feel you around me for a little while longer.”
She pressed against him. “Let… me… up!”
He let her up but only her torso. He kept her hips fixed to his with an arm about her waist.
She glared down at him, her hair falling about her face in waves. Looking at her, finally he felt the clutch of the nightmare release.
This was Leah, his Leah, now fully his, all of her.
Not running, not hiding, not climbing a scaffold, she was alive and, apparently, angry.
This made him smile which made her glare turn to a scowl which, in turn, made his smile deepen.
“You seem in an immensely foul mood for someone who just came twice,” he remarked.
Her eyes widened, her anger accelerated, he knew because her heart did as well taking his with it. She opened her mouth to speak and then suddenly shook her head and looked to the side.
Then she muttered, “Why couldn’t I be some other immortal’s concubine? A werewolf. Or Frankenstein, I could escape Frankenstein. He doesn’t move very fast. A wraith would be good, they’re ethereal. I could probably slip…”
She hadn’t noticed his body freeze but she stopped talking when he whipped her to her back. Disconnecting their joining, he settled on top of her, pinning her to the bed.
She stared up at him in surprise.
“What do you know of other immortals?” he demanded, savage fury tingeing his voice primarily because he was savagely furious.
She reacted to the fury. He smelled it and he heard it and he didn’t give a fuck.
“Wh… what?”
“What do you know of other immortals? Werewolves? Wraiths?”
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
Lucien shook her and he didn’t do it gently. “Tell me, damn it!”
“I don’t know!” she gasped. “I mean, Avery…”
She stopped speaking, her eyes dropping to his jaw as it went rigid.
Between clenched teeth, he gritted, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Lucien?” Her tone was uncertain and very frightened.
He gaze bore into hers. “Don’t tell anyone you know of the existence of other immortals, Leah. Not a single soul. Not your family, not Stephanie, not Edwina –”
“Edwina knows,” she admitted softly. “She was there when Avery –”
He closed his eyes and ground out, “Fucking hell.”
“He didn’t say anything, Lucien. Not anything,” Leah defended hurriedly and he opened his eyes to glare at her. “He just said he was immortal but he wasn’t a vampire. He didn’t tell me what he was. He didn’t tell me what other immortals there were. He said if he said anything it would mean his death. Earlier I was just guessing.”
“I’ll wager, my pet, he didn’t tell you that if anyone found out you knew then you’d face certain death.”
She pulled in a sharp breath.
“Yes,” Lucien clipped. “So no one is in on this secret. No one. I’ll have a word with Edwina and I’ll have several with Avery.”
Her hand came to his neck, fingers curling there and he could feel the slight tremor.
“Please don’t be angry with him. He was trying to be kind,” Leah whispered.
“Putting your life in danger is far from kind,” Lucien returned, his anger not abating, the nightmare too fresh as was this new danger.
Pain slashed through her face before she went on, her voice gentle, “Maybe he’s tired of hiding, Lucien. Maybe he felt he was among friends. Maybe he knew I’d accept him. Maybe he trusted me. That isn’t something to be angry about. That’s an honor he bestowed on me.”
“Letting me break you one day doesn’t make you friend and protector of all immortals the next, Leah.” His tone was sharp and derisive because her words had no effect.
He was still angry.
And troubled.
The Council was considering his request. They owed him and he had friends on The Council, friends who he had no doubt would become allies if things didn’t go his way. Therefore friends who would do all in their considerable power to make things go his way. No one wanted war.
Those who were not friends, those who wished to defy change because they feared it or because they hated him were using Rafe’s behavior as grounds to deny Lucien’s request.
Rafe had not yet taken Lana as a lover but he’d told Lucien he wanted to and he was now spending the night with her, this being the reason why The Council finally called him in. Rafe had not joined with her because he feared for her safety.
Lucien approved of Rafe’s intentions and when speaking to him encouraged them.
As he would encourage any vampire who wished to bloody well behave like a fucking vampire.
If this was known, this would not sway The Council in his favor, even his friends might demur. Allowing Lucien a boon was one thing, allowing rampant and widespread change to centuries of tradition was another.
However, if it was known that Leah held the knowledge that other cultures existed, he’d not get his request granted for she’d be executed.
No, she’d be hunted then she’d be executed.
They had enough to worry about, most of it she didn’t even know, they didn’t fucking need this.
He caught her flinch at his mocking words. It wounded him but he ignored it. He’d make it up to her and she’d forgive him. At that moment he had to make her understand.
“That wasn’t nice,” she whispered.
“No, it wasn’t. I wasn’t trying to be nice, pet. I was trying to get it through that thick, stubborn head of yours that this is serious.”
Her eyes flashed. “I may be stubborn, Lucien…” she hesitated, looking strangely but also hilariously confused for a second then repeated, “Lucien Whatever-your-last-name-is, but I’m not stupid. I think I get it. Certain death is a pretty big motivator to keep a secret.”
When she stopped speaking, she glared at him. He returned her glare. He felt her discomfort well before he was ready to back down.
Finally and waspishly she demanded to know, “What is your last name anyway?”
Lucien relaxed, partially because he believed she understood his concern, mostly because she was amusing.
“Vampires don’t have last names.”
Her anger dissipated, her eyes grew wide and she replied, “So, you’re like Cher? Madonna? You’re just Lucien?”
“Cher and Madonna were born with surnames, they simply don’t use them. But I am ‘just Lucien’.”
Her eyes slid to his shoulder and she mumbled, “How weird.”
Gently, Lucien reminded her, “It’s far from weird.”
Her gaze shot back to his, it went soft and her body became pliant underneath him.
“I didn’t mean that in a
bad way,” she whispered, each word clearly heartfelt.
Christ, she was sweet.
Twenty years of watching her and hearing of her, he’d had a good idea of what he’d get when he finally had her.
At that moment, he realized he’d had no idea.
And this added blessing settled warmly in his gut.
His weight eased into her soft body and she automatically accommodated it.
He touched his lips to hers and rested their foreheads together. “I know you didn’t, sweetling.”
Her hand slid up to rest on his chest before she asked softly, “Are you going to stop being Scary Lucien now?”
“I’m never Scary Lucien,” he replied and she gave him a look so disbelieving it was comical.
Therefore he shoved his face in her neck and burst out laughing.
He rolled them yet again, positioning her against his side partially on top and she raised her head to look at him as his laughter died down to a chuckle. He lifted his hand to touch her eyebrow with a finger and he smoothed it across the arched line. With his movement, as he’d intended, her face gentled and his finger drifted down her cheek where he touched her lips with his middle three fingertips.
“You never have to be scared of me, sweetheart,” he told her quietly but firmly as his hand dropped away.
She surprised him by asking, “What about when your anger fills the room like a physical thing?”
He wound his arms around her and gathered her closer. “If that happens, Leah, then it happens. There are times when I’ll get angry but no matter how angry I get, you never have anything to fear.”
Regardless of his words and the feeling behind them she persevered. “What about when your body goes all funny?”
He blinked slowly before repeating, “My body goes all funny?”
“Yeah, it gets stiff, the muscles all tense, stand out. I can’t explain it, but –”
Lucien was appalled. “I’ve done that to you?”
She studied him, her look wary then she nodded before saying, “Just now and when, um… that time Katrina came over.”
“Christ,” he muttered, stunned and disgusted with himself. He hadn’t even felt it.
“I’d said some awful things…” she defended him and his arms gave her a gentle shake to stop her exoneration.
“That won’t happen again,” he declared.
Leah watched him, her eyes wide, lips parted and this time he didn’t revel in a look that made her adorable.
“What is it?” she whispered.
His reply was swift and terse. “Preparing for battle.”
“Wow,” she breathed.
“Against an immortal, Leah,” he went on, tone still curt. “My strength is twenty times yours. When I’m in a fight or flight situation, my adrenalin releases just as yours does, but it makes me twice as strong as I was before, twice as fast. If I were to –”
“You didn’t,” she cut him off.
“And I wouldn’t,” he stated. “I’ll repeat, my pet, when you’re with me, you never have anything to fear.”
At that, she replied, “That part I know.”
After she spoke, he watched as her face stilled then horror filled it and she grew pale.
Her heart started racing. In his anger, he’d ceased attuning his to hers and his remained steady.
But she’d given something away and it wasn’t that she trusted he’d never harm her.
“Leah?”
She looked toward the door and she quickly changed the subject, “Maybe we should call my family to come and have breakfast.”
“Leah –”
“I’ll make breakfast today. Crêpes Suzette.”
The idea of Leah attempting Crêpes Suzette, which she’d fail to do (not to mention it was dessert), was infinitely amusing, especially considering flambéing was key to the dish’s success. He mentally located the fire extinguisher, just in case.
At the thought of witnessing this endeavor and her reaction at her inevitable failure, Lucien was tempted to let her off the hook.
However, he didn’t.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
Her gaze flitted to his eyebrow.
His arms tightened and his tone was a warning. “Leah.”
She sighed and her eyes caught his.
“What did you mean?” Lucien asked.
“What did I mean what?” Leah asked back.
His eyes narrowed. She wrinkled her nose.
“Tell me, Leah,” he ordered.
“Oh all right,” she snapped and frowned at him before admitting something astonishing and tremendously gratifying but doing so with extreme ill-humor. “You make me feel safe.”
Again, Lucien was stunned. This time in a much better way.
“I make you feel safe,” he repeated.
“Yes. You,” she poked him in the chest, “make me,” she pointed to herself then her hand fluttered in the air, “feel safe.” She dropped her hand and stared at him. “You’re big and fast and you can throw a blinkety blank car, for heaven’s sake. You make me feel tiny and sheltered and… well, safe!”
That warmth in his gut started spreading.
“Leah –” he began, his hand inching up her back, sifting into her hair.
But she wasn’t quite through.
Glowering at him, she admitted irritably, “My father left me, which was enough to twist me in a way that I’d never feel safe. We were girls on our own. Mom’s strong but, you know, sometimes…” She trailed off, losing track of her theme then she found it and kept going, “Then every guy I’ve ever been with has hit the top bell on the jerk-o-meter. You can be a jerk but, get this!” she fairly shouted. “One of my boyfriends sat in the car while I changed the tire. Another one didn’t do a freaking thing when some guy was pawing me at a bar. After I got away I asked him why he sat there and watched and did not… one… thing and he said he didn’t want to get ‘into it’ with some ‘moron’ and it was obvious I could ‘sort myself out’.” She lifted her hands and used two fingers to put quotation emphasis on her words before dropping them again and finishing, “Can you believe?”
He couldn’t. In fact the very idea infuriated him.
He didn’t get a chance to share this, she kept talking.
“You wouldn’t make me change the tire and you wouldn’t let some guy paw me and you haven’t told me I have a fat ass and perhaps I should lay off the fried chicken. You’re big and heavy and strong and cart me around like I weigh as much as a kitten and you’re tall and I have to look up at you even when I’m wearing heels,” she uttered this last like it was a total impossibility for her to look up at anyone and to look up at him was akin to a miracle. However, she wasn’t quite finished. “And you could probably change a tire just by glaring at it.”
Lucien bit back laughter as he rolled her to her back and decided they weren’t having Crêpes Suzette. And definitely her family wasn’t coming over.
His mouth went to her throat and he muttered, “I’m sorry to say I can’t change a tire by glaring at it.”
Her voice was no longer loud but breathy when she replied, “You know what I mean.”
His mouth moved up and over her jaw to meet hers.
Looking into her eyes, he murmured his understatement, “I’m glad you feel safe with me, sweetling.”
She tried to make light of it by announcing, “Anyone would feel safe with you. I’ll repeat, you can throw a car.”
“Maybe,” he allowed, “but I’m thrilled that you do.”
Before she could speak again, he rewarded her admission with a kiss.
Without hesitating, her arms stole around him and she kissed him back, her mouth sweet, her tongue sweeter.
His hand moved to her breast and cupped it, his thumb stroking its peak, feeling it harden instantly.
His cock responded in kind.
She gasped into his mouth.
He lifted his head to watch her face as his thumb stroked back and as he did he liked what h
e saw.
Her cheeks warmed and she bit her lip.
Then she said, “I’m hungry.”
“I’ll feed you,” he assured her, executing another nipple swipe before he finished, “later.”
Her eyelids fluttered lower, desire evident in her face, he felt a further tightening in his groin but even so, she whispered, “My family –”
He added a finger to his thumb and rolled. He was rewarded at once. Her breath caught, her heart started hammering and he smelled the rush of heat between her restless legs.
Magnificent.
“Later,” he repeated, his head descending and his mouth was on hers when he heard it.
Her body froze beneath his as his head jerked up. His two fingers stopped rolling but all of them curled possessively around the swell of her breast.
He listened and he couldn’t believe what he heard.
“What is it?” Leah asked, a tremor of fear in her voice.
His eyes caught hers.
The doorbell rang.
Her body went solid and her fear permeated the air.
Lucien’s temper spiked.
“What is it?” she asked again, the fear stronger.
“It’s my fucking family,” he growled. He watched as her eyes grew wide, her lips parted and yet again he found no pleasure in her endearing expression.
This was mainly because, instead of being able to do something about it, something they’d both like very much, he had to go answer the fucking door.
Chapter Nineteen
The Family
Lucien walked the small pier to the end where he stopped and examined the lake.
His children followed.
He didn’t speak for long moments and Julian and Isobel astutely left him to his silent contemplation of the serene water.
Then, quietly and menacingly, Lucien spoke to the water. “Explain.”
“He came to see me, Father,” Isobel replied swiftly.
“And?” Lucien prompted.
“I thought –” Isobel started but stopped when Lucien’s head turned and his eyes sliced to his daughter.
“No,” he said softly, “you didn’t.”