offer to pimp out their staff in order to prove a point!
Then I gave myself a mental shake. Just because I still felt like crap and was unable to prove him wrong didn’t mean I had the right to spew venom all over him. Sorry , I thought, assuming he was tuned into my thoughts as usual.
The sardonic smile that curled his lips when he held out my chair confirmed my suspicions.
“Your date wasn’t everything you’d hoped?”
I sat down with a small sigh. I hated lying and he could read my mind, so what was the point trying to deny it?
“No, but Maximus wants to give it a week, and I agreed.”
Once I was settled at the table, Vlad returned to his chair, again making the simple act of sitting appear commanding. Give him a throne and he’d look right at home. Then again, he probably had one stashed away somewhere. Maximus hadn’t shown me the fourth floor because he said it was “private.” I translated that as “Vlad’s personal territory” and wondered why he needed the equivalent of an apartment building for his quarters.
Or maybe that was where he did all his torturing. I could understand Maximus not wanting to show me that room.
“No, I do my torturing in the dungeon like any other respectable castle owner,” he said, amusement clear in his voice. “And the fourth floor isn’t merely mine. My most trusted staff members have their rooms there, too.”
“You really have a dungeon?” Talk about old school.
“Of course.” Spoken as he gestured with two fingers. An attendant appeared, pouring dark red wine into my glass.
At least, I hoped it was wine.
“It is.” With more amusement. “Aside from its obvious purpose, the wine should assist you in getting a better night’s sleep tonight. It will also help to soothe some of your aches.”
Your ability is so intrusive , I thought, glaring at him.
He only smiled and raised his glass in silent salute.
I took a small sip of mine, letting the liquid roll around my tongue before swallowing. Hints of violets, black cherry, and . . . smoke. Very nice , I decided, and took a larger sip. Some of the tightness started to leave my shoulders.
Vlad watched me, whatever he was thinking hidden behind that enigmatic half smile. I’d dressed down for dinner, but he hadn’t. The rich material of his aubergine shirt made it far more elegant than your average button-down. Lights from the chandelier gleamed off jeweled cuff links, and his charcoal-colored pants fit him so perfectly, it was hard not to stare. His hair was brushed into smooth, dark waves and that eight o’clock shadow hugged his chiseled jawline, making me forget myself long enough drink in his appearance along with my wine.
I’d expected him to smirk over my obvious admiration, but his expression didn’t change as he stared back at me. His long, tapered fingers stroked the stem of his wineglass, and I flashed to how it felt when he’d caressed my hand as I unleashed all my electricity into him. Warmth spread through me that I told myself was the effects from the wine, but I knew better. Three hours and two kisses with Maximus hadn’t made me feel as much as a glimmer of heat, but less than five minutes sitting across from Vlad and I was mentally fanning myself.
Now his expression did change—into a slow, knowing smile.
“You see? You don’t react this way with every man,” he said with satisfaction.
Nothing would make me happier than to tell him he was wrong, but I did feel something for Vlad that I hadn’t felt for anyone else. Maybe he was right and it was that damn darkness in me recognizing a kindred spirit. That didn’t make him any less hazardous to my physical or emotional well-being, however.
“Stop,” I said quietly. “Find someone else to toy with. We both know I lack experience, so I don’t know how to play the game without getting hurt. Besides, I hate games. I prefer knowing straight up what’s real and what’s bullcrap.”
He sat back, something lurking in his
Then I gave myself a mental shake. Just because I still felt like crap and was unable to prove him wrong didn’t mean I had the right to spew venom all over him. Sorry , I thought, assuming he was tuned into my thoughts as usual.
The sardonic smile that curled his lips when he held out my chair confirmed my suspicions.
“Your date wasn’t everything you’d hoped?”
I sat down with a small sigh. I hated lying and he could read my mind, so what was the point trying to deny it?
“No, but Maximus wants to give it a week, and I agreed.”
Once I was settled at the table, Vlad returned to his chair, again making the simple act of sitting appear commanding. Give him a throne and he’d look right at home. Then again, he probably had one stashed away somewhere. Maximus hadn’t shown me the fourth floor because he said it was “private.” I translated that as “Vlad’s personal territory” and wondered why he needed the equivalent of an apartment building for his quarters.
Or maybe that was where he did all his torturing. I could understand Maximus not wanting to show me that room.
“No, I do my torturing in the dungeon like any other respectable castle owner,” he said, amusement clear in his voice. “And the fourth floor isn’t merely mine. My most trusted staff members have their rooms there, too.”
“You really have a dungeon?” Talk about old school.
“Of course.” Spoken as he gestured with two fingers. An attendant appeared, pouring dark red wine into my glass.
At least, I hoped it was wine.
“It is.” With more amusement. “Aside from its obvious purpose, the wine should assist you in getting a better night’s sleep tonight. It will also help to soothe some of your aches.”
Your ability is so intrusive , I thought, glaring at him.
He only smiled and raised his glass in silent salute.
I took a small sip of mine, letting the liquid roll around my tongue before swallowing. Hints of violets, black cherry, and . . . smoke. Very nice , I decided, and took a larger sip. Some of the tightness started to leave my shoulders.
Vlad watched me, whatever he was thinking hidden behind that enigmatic half smile. I’d dressed down for dinner, but he hadn’t. The rich material of his aubergine shirt made it far more elegant than your average button-down. Lights from the chandelier gleamed off jeweled cuff links, and his charcoal-colored pants fit him so perfectly, it was hard not to stare. His hair was brushed into smooth, dark waves and that eight o’clock shadow hugged his chiseled jawline, making me forget myself long enough drink in his appearance along with my wine.
I’d expected him to smirk over my obvious admiration, but his expression didn’t change as he stared back at me. His long, tapered fingers stroked the stem of his wineglass, and I flashed to how it felt when he’d caressed my hand as I unleashed all my electricity into him. Warmth spread through me that I told myself was the effects from the wine, but I knew better. Three hours and two kisses with Maximus hadn’t made me feel as much as a glimmer of heat, but less than five minutes sitting across from Vlad and I was mentally fanning myself.
Now his expression did change—into a slow, knowing smile.
“You see? You don’t react this way with every man,” he said with satisfaction.
Nothing would make me happier than to tell him he was wrong, but I did feel something for Vlad that I hadn’t felt for anyone else. Maybe he was right and it was that damn darkness in me recognizing a kindred spirit. That didn’t make him any less hazardous to my physical or emotional well-being, however.
“Stop,” I said quietly. “Find someone else to toy with. We both know I lack experience, so I don’t know how to play the game without getting hurt. Besides, I hate games. I prefer knowing straight up what’s real and what’s bullcrap.”
He sat back, something lurking in his
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