Regina Jeffers - Vampire Darcy's Desire

Elizabeth blinked.“I believe th-that my world tilted after all, my Husband,” she stammered.

“I believe mine did also,” he confirmed before setting her from

“I will let the world in for now, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth retorted, “but not forever.”

At supper, Darcy placed Elizabeth next to him, rather than allowing one of the footmen to set her a place at the head of the table.The servants at the meal gossiped about how often the young master and his new wife reached out to touch each other, how Mr. Darcy was seen holding her hand, how Mrs. Darcy blushed when he whispered in her ear, and how Mr. Darcy laughed out loud. Those who had served Fitzwilliam Darcy for many years knew something extraordinary had happened when he married Elizabeth Bennet. And hope began to return to Overton House—hope for a future for the Master of Pemberley.

Darcy excused his valet. It was his wedding night, and he knew not what to do. Darcy recognized what he wanted to do; he wanted to go to Elizabeth—to his wife—and take her, as a husband should. She was sultry and flirtatious and seductive and innocent all at once, and Darcy was so very aware of her physically that sometimes he could barely breathe.When she had been Elizabeth Bennet, and he had lain beside her at night, he controlled his desire by telling himself he could not compromise her and destroy her reputation—but those compelling reasons no longer existed. She was his; he had the right to take her as a man takes a woman.Yet he must resist; he could not love Elizabeth as a man because he was not a man; he was a dhampir—a wretched being, half vampire and half human—and Darcy would not create another of his kind. Elizabeth deserved better.

Darcy knew not how he could tolerate her presence in the next room. She would spend the rest of her days and nights in their home, and he could reach her simply by crossing through their

He could see her arch against him—see her lips part as he deepened the kiss—see her head fall back, exposing her lovely, pulsing neck. His muscles tightened, and his breath became shallow just thinking of her softness pressed next to him. Passion filled him.

When Elizabeth burst through the door to Darcy’s bedchamber, she was filled with enthusiasm. Her thoughts were of the newness and luxury of her quarters.Yet when she saw him, Elizabeth froze.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was a magnificent man to look at when he was dressed in waistcoat and cravat and tailored jacket. But Elizabeth found him especially appealing when his hair was a bit disheveled, and he wore a loose-fitting shirt and breeches. Tonight, however, he was perfect.

The muscular line of his back caught her attention—the expanse of his broad shoulders and slim tapering of his waist. Elizabeth gasped and Darcy spun around to find her there.

“Fitz—Fitzwilliam,” she stammered, trying now to force her eyes from his muscular chest. Do you not realize you are an aristocrat—a soft and pampered person, not hard and sculpted? she thought with amusement.

His voice came out clipped. “Yes, Elizabeth?” She is radiant. She is exquisite.

“I apologize.” She began to back out of the room, embarrassed at having intruded on his privacy.

“No,” he called out, moving quickly to stop her retreat. Darcy forced himself to sound calm.“Please do not leave.” He caught her wrist and held Elizabeth in place.

“I should not have come,” she said and flushed.

Darcy could not take his eyes from her.“You are my wife, Elizabeth. You need never apologize for entering this room.” He loosened his grip, but did not release her hand.“Come sit with me.”

He led her towards a small chaise, sitting back before settling

Darcy kissed the top of her head.

“I came to thank you.” She kissed the expanse of his chest and heard Darcy’s breath catch in his throat.

“I do not believe I deserve thanks.” Darcy’s voice sounded strained, as if he fought to control his emotions. His thumb stroked the side of her arm.

Elizabeth leaned back so she could see his face. “Oh, but you do. My wardrobe is filled with new gowns and finery such as I could never imagine. I do not merit such extravagance, but it is wonderful, just the same.”

“Then Madame Lucinda finished her work? I hoped as such.” Darcy kissed the tip of her nose.

“It is not just gowns; it is these!” Elizabeth reached into a pocket of her dressing gown and pulled out a pair of silk stockings. “Feel how fine these are.” She handed them to Darcy.

Darcy chuckled lightly; he thoroughly enjoyed making Elizabeth happy. “I think I would prefer them on your legs when I touch them.When I purchased them, it was with such a thought.”

“Mr. Darcy, you are a cad! ” Elizabeth swatted at his chest.

Darcy leaned down to kiss her tenderly.“Am I not to appreciate the beauty of my wife?” He pulled her closer into his embrace. “You should know, my Love, that when a man desires something as I do you, he will do whatever he must to possess it.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, overcome by the scent of him—of his maleness.“I will wear them especially for you, my Husband.” Darcy’s arms tightened around her, needing the pleasure of opening his life to Elizabeth.They remained as such for several moments before she sat up with a start.“Oh, I forgot.” Elizabeth’s green eyes caught the reflection of the light and glowed with excitement.“Wait here. I have something for you.”

She scrambled from the chaise before Darcy could stop her. Elizabeth disappeared into his dressing room, and he heard her

Just as he got the words out, she reappeared in the doorway. Her hands were clasped behind her as she approached where he sat. “This is not as sensual as a pair of silk stockings—” she began.

“ Three pairs,” Darcy corrected her.

“Yes, three pairs,” she said and laughed. “But I hope my small present will please you nonetheless. It is a token of my regard.” Elizabeth extended her hand towards where he sat.

Darcy sat up straight and accepted the package. He unwrapped the string and brown paper. Elizabeth watched as he lightly touched the raised letters on the front of the book. “You remembered our first conversation in the Netherfield library,” he said.

“There is little about you, my Husband, that I forget.”

When he opened the book to read the inscription, Elizabeth looked away, suddenly shy.When he said her name aloud, Elizabeth turned and Darcy clasped her to him. “Oh, my love,” he moaned, and he lowered his head to kiss her lips in earnest.

Elizabeth had no idea what she d had done with her inexpensive, yet heartfelt, present. If Darcy had any qualms about whether he needed her in his life, the book buried them. Since his parents’ passing, other than Georgiana, no one ever searched out a present especially for him. His uncles and aunts all had people on their staff who took care of such things. For Elizabeth to find time in the chaos of the past few days to choose something personal for him—it meant more than he could explain. Unwilling to control his ardor, Darcy deepened the kiss and clasped her harder into his embrace. Their mouths angled to press closer. For a few minutes, they were both lost one in one another until Darcy’s reason invaded the passion of the moment. “Elizabeth,” he moaned as he broke from the kiss, trying to get control of his traitorous body.

“I will have to buy you a library full of books if this is my reward.”

Darcy released her and strode away. He raked his fingers through his hair in disappointment.“I cannot do this, Elizabeth.”

She stood there, stunned.

“I cannot allow myself to succumb to your charms! I cannot ruin your life by touching you the way I wish to touch you!”