thoughts.
“Shall we?” he asked, drawing my attention back to him.
I’d show that egotistical Romanian prince he was nothing special. “Absolutely.”
“Where would you like your tour to begin?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Wherever you want.”
“Let’s start at the beginning,” Maximus said as led me down the ornate hallway. “This was originally a monastery built back in the fifteenth century.”
“This house is a former church ?” I asked in disbelief.
“Monasteries were more than that back then,” he replied, gesturing to the huge windows we came to. “They were also strategic strongholds. At that time, the Ottoman Empire was trying to invade Western Europe, and Romania was one of the countries in its way.”
“So that explains the high walls and lookout towers,” I said musingly before adding, “And they’re still used today.”
“Vlad has enemies,” Maximus replied, slanting a look at me.
I snorted. “Yeah, I noticed after I was kidnapped by them.”
“This wasn’t where he lived when he was prince,” Maximus went on, leading me past the parlor to the staircase. “He didn’t move in here until the seventeenth century. The walls and monastery were practically in ruins, but he restored them. Built the third and fourth levels of the house on top of them, as well as added new amenities to the first and second floors.”
“Like the indoor garden?” I asked jokingly.
Maximus grinned. “Shrapnel insisted on that. He’s a horticulturist at heart, but he’d never admit it.”
The huge vampire Marty had described as “creative” in his torture techniques secretly liked to play with plants?
“What other surprises do you have in store?” I asked, adding dryly, “Let me guess: You’re the real Roman commander that Russell Crowe portrayed in Gladiator .”
He chuckled, running his hand along my arm and not drawing away at the currents that flowed into him.
“No, but with the right incentive, you could get me to wear that short leather skirt and pretend to be.”
His tone was light, yet underneath was a tinge of sensuality. I might not be thinking any naughty thoughts on this date yet—dammit!—but Maximus was letting me know he was.
“Tell me more about the restoration process,” I said, wondering why I didn’t feel so much as a twitch at the thought of kinky role playing with Maximus. “Were you around back then?”
If he was disappointed at how I’d changed the subject back to the house, he didn’t show it.
“Oh yes. I was in charge of the rebuilding, in fact. By then I’d been with Vlad for centuries and he trusted me to make sure everything was completed while he was off in Slovenia . . .”
T hree hours later, my head was whirling. Maximus took me through the first three floors, which were staggeringly huge. Vlad’s house was also littered with enough priceless artifacts to make any museum curator weep with envy. Forget the tapestries, portraits, furnishings, and various jewel-studded objects—the Weapons Room was like walking back in time. It had armor, chain mail, swords, shields, and various other items of war, many with the Dracul family standard or the Order of the Dragon emblazoned on them.
I kept my right hand plastered to my side when Maximus showed me that room. I knew these had been used in battle; the dents and scratches were mute testimony to that. It almost seemed like the room gave off a pulse from all the essence-heavy items in it.
Despite my interest, I felt steadily worse as the day wore on. By the time Maximus brought me back to my room, I was so tired and achy that all I wanted to do was sleep. Maybe my brain was overwhelmed from everything I’d learned, and the lack of a decent sleep was catching up with me.
“Thanks for a wonderful afternoon, Maximus,” I told him. “See you at lunch tomorrow?”
He leaned against the wall in a casual way. “No, Oscar or Gabriel will bring you your food.”
“Sick of me already?” I
“Shall we?” he asked, drawing my attention back to him.
I’d show that egotistical Romanian prince he was nothing special. “Absolutely.”
“Where would you like your tour to begin?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Wherever you want.”
“Let’s start at the beginning,” Maximus said as led me down the ornate hallway. “This was originally a monastery built back in the fifteenth century.”
“This house is a former church ?” I asked in disbelief.
“Monasteries were more than that back then,” he replied, gesturing to the huge windows we came to. “They were also strategic strongholds. At that time, the Ottoman Empire was trying to invade Western Europe, and Romania was one of the countries in its way.”
“So that explains the high walls and lookout towers,” I said musingly before adding, “And they’re still used today.”
“Vlad has enemies,” Maximus replied, slanting a look at me.
I snorted. “Yeah, I noticed after I was kidnapped by them.”
“This wasn’t where he lived when he was prince,” Maximus went on, leading me past the parlor to the staircase. “He didn’t move in here until the seventeenth century. The walls and monastery were practically in ruins, but he restored them. Built the third and fourth levels of the house on top of them, as well as added new amenities to the first and second floors.”
“Like the indoor garden?” I asked jokingly.
Maximus grinned. “Shrapnel insisted on that. He’s a horticulturist at heart, but he’d never admit it.”
The huge vampire Marty had described as “creative” in his torture techniques secretly liked to play with plants?
“What other surprises do you have in store?” I asked, adding dryly, “Let me guess: You’re the real Roman commander that Russell Crowe portrayed in Gladiator .”
He chuckled, running his hand along my arm and not drawing away at the currents that flowed into him.
“No, but with the right incentive, you could get me to wear that short leather skirt and pretend to be.”
His tone was light, yet underneath was a tinge of sensuality. I might not be thinking any naughty thoughts on this date yet—dammit!—but Maximus was letting me know he was.
“Tell me more about the restoration process,” I said, wondering why I didn’t feel so much as a twitch at the thought of kinky role playing with Maximus. “Were you around back then?”
If he was disappointed at how I’d changed the subject back to the house, he didn’t show it.
“Oh yes. I was in charge of the rebuilding, in fact. By then I’d been with Vlad for centuries and he trusted me to make sure everything was completed while he was off in Slovenia . . .”
T hree hours later, my head was whirling. Maximus took me through the first three floors, which were staggeringly huge. Vlad’s house was also littered with enough priceless artifacts to make any museum curator weep with envy. Forget the tapestries, portraits, furnishings, and various jewel-studded objects—the Weapons Room was like walking back in time. It had armor, chain mail, swords, shields, and various other items of war, many with the Dracul family standard or the Order of the Dragon emblazoned on them.
I kept my right hand plastered to my side when Maximus showed me that room. I knew these had been used in battle; the dents and scratches were mute testimony to that. It almost seemed like the room gave off a pulse from all the essence-heavy items in it.
Despite my interest, I felt steadily worse as the day wore on. By the time Maximus brought me back to my room, I was so tired and achy that all I wanted to do was sleep. Maybe my brain was overwhelmed from everything I’d learned, and the lack of a decent sleep was catching up with me.
“Thanks for a wonderful afternoon, Maximus,” I told him. “See you at lunch tomorrow?”
He leaned against the wall in a casual way. “No, Oscar or Gabriel will bring you your food.”
“Sick of me already?” I
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