Midnight by Elisa Adams Page A

know?”
    It couldn’t really be this easy. What was the catch? “How
can you possibly afford to take time off? This house must have cost you a
fortune.”
    “In four hundred years I’ve managed to accumulate enough to
see to my needs.” He paused and drew a deep breath. “I’m sure you can afford
some time off, too.”
    “A little while, but I wasn’t exactly careful about my
spending habits.” She hadn’t expected to lose her job. Sometimes life bit the
big one. “If you’re still worried about me capitalizing on picking on your
race, don’t. Most of that money is gone.” Some of it to Derek’s drug habit and
all the expensive rehabs, but she wasn’t going to share that with Marco.
    “I’m sorry.” His voice was barely a whisper against her
hair.
    “For what? You didn’t spend the money.”
    “Not about the money, Amara. About everything else.”
    It took her a moment to realize what he was saying. She
pulled out of his arms and turned to face him. “If this is about kidnapping me,
forget it. It’s done. You can’t take it back now. Let’s just move on, okay.”
    Marco sighed and ran a hand down his face. He looked like he
wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He just stared at her, his expression a
mix between guilt and pain.
    She tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t feel bad. I’m over it.”
    His expression darkened. When he spoke, his voice was a low
growl. “You shouldn’t be.”
    He stalked out of the room. She thought about going after him,
but changed her mind. When he was ready to talk, and not growl, he knew where
to find her. It wasn’t like she was going to leave or anything.
    * * * * *
    He was out of his mind.
    Amara did not belong to him. She may have agreed to
stay, for now, but that didn’t give him the right to hold her to it. She’d been
acting strangely for a little while—first the dizzy spell she had, and then her
agreeable attitude. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew enough to see that
she wasn’t putting up as much of a fight about staying as she normally would.
Something with her wasn’t right.
    She’d never admit to it, though, so asking what was wrong
would be pointless. She’d blame it all on stress, on the kidnapping, and the
fact that she thought he was a lunatic.
    She was right.
    Somewhere along the line he’d plunged over the cliff of
sanity. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to redeem himself before she walked
out on him for good.
    He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the
desk he kept in the small study. The house was relatively quiet—he’d heard
Amara sneak back upstairs after he left her. She was probably sound asleep by
now, her curvy body splayed across his sheets. Her hair fanned across the
pillow. His pillow.
    He cursed himself for thinking such thoughts. He needed to
stay away from her for a while and let the poor woman get some sleep. She could
probably use a couple days’ rest at the least. He’d been feeding too much. At
this rate he’d drain her dry before he even got the chance to return her home.
    That was another cause of conflict. His original intentions
had gotten twisted along the way. Forget teaching the woman a lesson, he just
wanted to find some way to keep her here short of strapping her to his bed for
all eternity.
    Not that strapping her to his bed wasn’t an intriguing
prospect. But, after the abduction from her home, he had a feeling she wouldn’t
go along with it, at least not yet.
    This was confusing, to say the least. Never in his life had
he imagined he’d ever be so infatuated with a woman he was so confused about.
Now he just had to figure out what to do about it.

Chapter Ten
     
    Amara sat in a chair facing the bay window in the living
room, looking out into the quiet night. With the window cracked open to let in
some of the cool spring air, the only sounds were crickets chirping and the
occasional splash of the fish in the pond a few hundred yards from the house.
    The moon was nearly