Kristen Painter - Forbidden Blood

She closed her eyes, the reckless thoughts of the last few days heavy on her mind. Holy mother, if you want me to pursue this, give me a sign. Show me a path. Show me a way out.

Dominic called out directives for his staff as soon as he and Marissa entered his palazzo. The trip had tired him only slightly, so no doubt she would be feeling it more. What he was feeling was sunrise, only minutes away now. If not for the potion he’d taken, the pull of daysleep would have been impossible to overcome. “Prepare the guest bedroom near the laboratory, and get some food together. Whatever you make for Catarina.” He turned to Marissa. “You must be hungry, si?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you. Catarina is…”

“My comarré. You’ll meet her soon. I’m sure she’s asleep —”

“No, I’m not.” Catarina walked into the foyer, her slippers almost soundless on the intricate mosaic floor.

With a few nods, the staff dispersed to do as he’d asked.

“Catarina, this is Marissa. She’s going to be staying here for a few weeks.”

Catarina’s brows arched in judgment. “If you think you’re replacing me—”

“I’m not. Marissa belongs to another. She is here on her patron’s bequest. And you will make her welcome.”

Beside him, Marissa stepped forward, the sternness of her expression something new. “What house are you from? I’m curious, as speaking to one’s patron so boldly was considered a punishable behavior at the Primoris Domus in Corvinestri.”

Catarina faltered, her cheeks coloring. She dipped her head so that her long blond hair swung down to hide her face. “I am from the Secundis Domus outside of Tesoro.” She looked up and made brief eye contact with Dominic. “My apologies, my lord. If I may be excused?”

“Si.” When Catarina’s footsteps faded, he turned to Marissa.

“Masterfully done. In one small moment, you let her know who you are and you put her in her place.” She’d also defended him, but he didn’t dwell on an aspect he might have only imagined.

Marissa lowered her head slightly. “I apologize. I overstepped my bounds. I am a guest, after all I spoke without thinking.”

He laughed softly. “You spoke with your heart.” He came a few steps closer and slipped his knuckles beneath her chin to raise her eyes. She was only a few inches shorter than he.

“Although I don’t believe you do much without thinking.” He dropped his hand. “There is a time and place for both. Too many let their emotions rule them and end up paying the price, but without emotion, life is a tame existence best left for the weak without emotion, life is a tame existence best left for the weak and infirm.”

“She is young.”

“And you are not?”

“Not…as young as Catarina, no.” She turned away but not before the shadow of some greater emotion crossed her face.

When she looked at him again, her smile was slightly disconnected. “I do not mean to keep you from daysleep. I’m sure your staff can direct me to the kitchen and my room.”

What had upset her? He raised a brow. “Are you dismissing me?”

Horror broke the smile. “No. Never. I would never—”

He laughed. “It’s all right, Marissa. I know how Arnaud runs his house, but I don’t stand so much on formality. The only thing I never joke about is my work.” He held his hand out, knowing he’d already touched her more than was proper but not caring.

Contact was sorely missing in his life. “Let me show you to the dining room.”

She hesitated, staring at his outstretched hand. “Arnaud runs his house very strictly.” Slowly, she lifted her hand and her fingers coasted over his, teasingly warm but with a delicate friction that spoke to places deep inside him. She raised her gaze to meet his eyes. “This will be something of a holiday, then.”

“Perhaps.” He gathered her hand into his completely and led her down the hall. The heat of her skin recalled summers on the Amalfi coast, but those were memories from another life. He Amalfi coast, but those were memories from another life. He glanced at her. How innocent she was. No more than a possession to Arnaud. And now Dominic must tell her of Arnaud’s plans. He must explain how he’d been commissioned to experiment on her these next few weeks, to gently make clear the dangers of his work, but not now. There would be time enough for that in the evening. Now, as he felt the sun break the horizon, he wanted nothing to do with any of that. He would not give her a reason to fear him, not in this moment.

As they approached the dining room, a servant opened the door. Dominic dropped her hand to let her go ahead of him.

“Serve Lady Marissa here.”

“Yes, your lordship.” The servant nodded and left.

In the quiet of the room, she shook her head. “It is wrong to call me Lady Marissa.”

“In my house, I do as I please.” And right now, what he wanted to do was something he knew she would not abide, but lack of sleep made him reckless. He picked up her hand and pressed it to his mouth, inhaling her scent as he kissed her smooth, gilded skin.

She jumped, but not enough to wrench her hand from his grasp. “My lord,” she whispered.

“Do I frighten you?” Her heartbeat had increased the moment he’d touched her. If he had a pulse, it would have done the same. “That is not my desire.”

“Then what”—she swallowed, the delicate lines of her neck flexing—“what is your desire, my lord?”

Flexing—“what is your desire, my lord?”

Not what, but who. But wanting her was dangerous at best.

He released her hand and took a step back, his control teetering.

“Only company.” He pulled a chair out for her, then sat on the other side of the table. That would give her room to breathe.

She sat very straight. “Catarina does not provide that for you?”

“Catarina is first and foremost a comarré.”

“As am I.”

He shook his head. “You are a comarré second.”

She tensed. “Why would you say—”

“You are a woman first, cara mia.”

Unbelievably, she blushed. The signum on her cheeks blazed against the rising color. “You are a most unusual man.”

He nodded. “You are getting to know me very quickly.”

Servants entered with her dinner and a goblet of blood for him. He took it from the extended tray. It was warm. “This isn’t from the reserves?”

The servant tucked the tray under his arm. “Catarina thought you might want something fresher, my lord.”

With a nod, Dominic dismissed his staff with a wave.

Marissa spoke when they’d left. “She wishes to make amends.”

He lifted the glass. “Perhaps, but I rarely drink from her vein.

She is only doing what is required of her.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it abruptly, only to take a She opened her mouth, then closed it abruptly, only to take a bite of the meal before her instead.

“You want to know why that is?” He shrugged. “I am often busy and do not wish to be disturbed or pulled from my work, and she…does not complain that we have so little interaction. It is odd, perhaps, but it suits.”

She nodded and set her fork down. “It suits you not to have as much power as you could?” She lifted her hands and stroked the inside of one wrist. “I’ve never known a vampire who didn’t care whether or not he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of the comarré he owned. You are a rare creature, Lord Falconetti, to give up both power and pleasure.”

He stared at her, the embers of his desire rekindled by her words and fanned by what was clearly a challenge she was not the innocent he’d thought. No, indeed. She must know what her words were doing to him. But for what purpose? Did she think she could take Catarina’s place? That Arnaud would give her up? Was this the kind of trouble she’d caused to make her house declare her unreturnable? If so, he was not opposed to it. He smiled, lids lowered, while a thousand questions filed his head.