Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) by Sharon Hamilton Page A

he said as he
gently squeezed her hands. He waited to feel any hesitation on her part. There
was none.
    “I’m from an old family in Tuscany. Generations of Monteleones have lived
all over the Mediterranean, but mostly in Italy.” He searched the warmth of her
cheeks, down her neck, examining the length of it, and the curve as it
connected to her shoulders.
    “And?” she asked.
    “You must forgive me, but I find you so beautiful, it is distracting.”
    That brought a flush of blood to her face. She jerked her fingers
slightly, but did not remove them from   under his large hands. He rubbed the side of her palm with
his thumb. Slowly, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the delicate
flesh of the backs of her fingers, which smelled of jasmine and lavender. He
felt her pulse quicken.
    “Thank you,” he whispered.
    “For what?” She smiled through a sudden realization that she’d been
blushing, embarrassed.
    “For not running away.”
    She slipped her hands free and dropped them in her lap. He resisted the
temptation to glam her as she straightened her spine and averted her eyes. But
then she came back to him, her lips slightly open, moist. And she looked at his
mouth.
    You come to me of your own free
will, Carabella. I will not hurt you.
    “I, too, am a bit of a loner,” he began. “I like dark corners in large
rooms, stay to the outside. Don’t like to attract attention. I don’t have any
alpha females in my life, either.”
    Her face lit up at that.
    “You certainly looked like you enjoyed being the center of attention at
the ball,” she said.
    “Faeries. Faeries are always beta. Angels are alpha.” He tilted his head
to see how these words affected her. She leaned in, putting her chin in her palm,
not seeming to notice that she’d planted her elbow   in the small puddle of condensation on the table. She finally
shrugged, as if unable to give him a comment, her eyes wandering all over his
face, down the front of his chest.
    “Sometimes I get carried away.” He said as he looked directly at her and
was rewarded when he saw the blue vein at her neck pop up, as if greeting his
hungry fangs. He was filled with desire to taste her, and to mate with this
charming mortal woman.
    “So tell me something about you I wouldn’t ask,” she whispered.
    “I am staying with my brother and his wife in Healdsburg. They have a
small winery there. But I have a home in Tuscany.”
    “That wasn’t a very daring reveal. Surely you can do better than that.”
Her eyes sparkled with the taunt.
    He hesitated, and then answered, “I have never found the love of my life.
I am the only one of my brothers who has not found that special someone.”
    She raised her eyebrows, and waited for more.
    “I have tasted wines from all over the world. You might call me a
professional taster, but I have no degrees.”
    “A professional taster of women, too, it seems. Never been close to
taking the plunge?”
    “Close, yes. Several times. I do enjoy mortal women.” His slip-up earned
him a frown from across the table. He quickly recovered with a smile,
indicating it was a joke, “I identify playing the part of your vampires. The
dark loner, brooding type, occasionally bored with my life. I don’t attract
women who last very long.”
    It was the truth, and seemed to satisfy her.
    “What do you do to them to send them away?”
    That was a good question. “Every good fantasy has an untimely death,
right? You believed in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy…”
    “You really believe a fantasy love can’t last forever?” she asked, dismissing
the childhood references.
    “As in immortal?” he asked. He was coming closer to the dangerous edge of
a reveal, and he knew she’d rein herself in very soon.
    “I mean a love that can last a lifetime,” she spoke the innocent words
which captured him. He could see this was important to her.
    “With all my heart. Yes.” He placed one palm on his chest as his other
hand wanted to