Part 19 (1/2)

She dropped to the floor and brushed her hands. ”There.” She unknotted her skirts in the dim light. When she looked up, he had managed a smile.

”I've never seen a girl do that.”

”I expect not, with the insipid kind of girls you probably fancy.” The bulge of muscle at his biceps, the hard planes of his chest and the ribbed abdomen were hypnotizing. Maybe he could compel her, in some ways. She wouldn't look lower. But she couldn't escape the impression of a dark nest of hair at his groin to match the hair in his armpits and the light spray across his chest. G.o.d, what was she that she could so desire a man who was injured? Taking herself firmly in hand, she removed the hairpin from her collar at the nape of her neck, and held it aloft. ”And now for these shackles.”

Elyta's words came back to her. Should she release him?

She shook herself mentally. He was Gian. And if she was anything, she was an excellent judge of character. He was arrogant and intelligent and maddening. But he was not violent toward women. Indeed, he had been kinder to her than anyone in her life.

She descended upon him, determined to ignore the throbbing inside her that he evoked.

”I never knew what accomplishments I should... desire in a woman.”

”I'll wager sleight of hand or breaking and entering were not at the top of your list.” She worked the lock until the mechanism clicked. ”Now you can move around our little cell to escape whatever sun gets past that fur.”

”It won't matter. She'll be back tonight.” Despair lurked in his eyes.

There were things she had to know, since he was so weak. He was too big for her to carry or drag. ”What effect would going out now have on you?”

He took a breath. ”I'd burn in seconds.” He shook his head. ”Normally I'm old enough to go out in the sun briefly. We toughen with age. But right now I'm... I'm fairly weak.”

That was an understatement, ”With clothes?”

”Noticeably absent.”

”With clothes?” she insisted.

He closed his eyes as though he didn't care to argue anymore. ”I'd burn less.”

She wasn't going to subject him to any more torture than she must. How much was that? ”If we wait until late afternoon?”

”Kate, we're not going anywhere.” He looked at her expression and relented. ”But late afternoon is better.”

All right. Late afternoon. The later, the better. But not too late. When would Elyta rise and come for him? Her mind was racing.

Luigi would be gone. Either he had returned to Firenze, or he and the groom were dead. She and Gian were alone against Elyta and her crew. She was only human, and Gian hardly more and maybe less right now. She took his hand and felt the thrill of touching him. But his flesh was cold even though the early mornings of May were warm. It was a mark of his poor condition.

How could she give him strength?

She sucked in a breath as she remembered the contessa's restorative. Kate knew what would help Gian. Human blood. And they had some of that. It was running in her veins.

That's why Elyta said he was dangerous to her. He needed Wood. She found herself blinking rapidly as the voices inside her argued back and forth.

You can't be thinking of giving him your blood!And how else is he going to be strong enough to escape by this afternoon ?

Maybe he just needs rest.

She looked at him, haggard and s.h.i.+vering. You know that's not enough.

But what if he sucks you dry?

You got yourself into this mess, Katie my girl, and now you'd better have the courage to get out of it. Giving him your blood is better than failing both of you entirely. She wasn't going to admit failure. She'd come for Gian, and she was going to leave with him.

No matter what that took. Giving him blood was the lesser of two evils.

She chewed her lip. Could she just... offer that? Here, have some of my blood. And how would he get it? She had no knife to slit her wrist.

Oh, G.o.d. He didn't take it like the contessa from a German pewter tankard. She had seen him getting his blood in a tavern from that serving girl. He bit her neck. And vampires had fangs. He didn't have fangs now, but somehow he got them. That's how that serving girl got twin puncture wounds just over the artery in her neck.

Very well. Pressing her lips together in determination, she curled beside his naked body.

”No,” he protested. ”No.”

”You're cold. I can warm you.”

”I'm not... safe.” His hot breath hissed in and out. It bathed her neck in his scent, more man now than cinnamon and that something else that was sweet. ”You don't know...”

”But I do.” She slid her arm under his neck and pulled him to her. ”Your mother took blood when she was weakened by the stone to help her recover. Wouldn't it help you?”

He didn't answer. ”I'm depleted. I might take too much.”

”Let me worry about that.” Fear wound round her spine. She remembered his strength when he hurried her across town to his house in Rome even when he was horribly burned. Still, what other way was there? ”You need strength if we're to get out of here.” She lifted her chin.

But wait, didn't the children's stories say that you became a vampire yourself if a vampire bit you? Or was that a werewolf?

Maybe that was the danger Elyta meant. She didn't want to become something that needed human blood to survive. She could ask him, but did she really want to know? Because she was going to do this anyway, no matter if she became a monster or not.

She was going to do it for Gian, who was not a monster, even though he needed human blood. She steeled herself and drew him closer.

His breath was hot on her throat as he struggled with himself. He gave a low moan, and she felt the vibrations that had been quiescent now throb slowly in the air. They were not as electric as they once had been, but they were there. ”Yes,” she breathed, though inside she was trembling. She stroked his hair and eased him even closer to her throat.

His lips brushed the flesh of her neck and sent goose-flesh down her right side. But she did not draw back. The fear, his nearness, his scent, all combined into a brew of antic.i.p.ation, and... sensuality. Her blood began to pool in her center, leaving her almost light-headed.

The twin pains were not unexpected, but she jerked a little in reaction. His amis came round and held her to his body. He began to suck. Horror drained away. All that mattered was the feel of his body moving against hers in matching rhythm to his sucking.

”Kate,” he murmured against her neck. ”Kate.” And the word was not a paean to hunger, but a caress. She arched into him, and the feel of her blood pounding inside her matched the rhythm of his lips, sucking, caressing her neck. That vibrating, electric feeling in him ramped up. She could feel his ecstasy and it was infectious. His hold grew stronger on her and she held him tightly in return. Their breath, matched now in some urgent pull toward life, pressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest. She could not help but thrust her hips against him, and in doing so she found something quite unexpected. Oh, her blood was giving him strength all right.

He had an erection. How she longed to make love to him, with him sucking at her neck. The sensuality of this most intimate exchange of fluids, him to her, and her to him in return, would be... paradise.

Abruptly, he pulled away, with a moan of frustration.

Kate felt... bereft.

He was gasping for air. ”Did I... did I take too much? Are you all right?”

”A little... disoriented.” As though she had been pulled from ultimate intimacy back to an everyday world. Yet she still throbbed inside. Her heart pumped. Her breathing pushed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his bare chest. And she still felt his erection against her thigh.

”I can't erase the memory of this unpleasantness with compulsion as normally I would.” He was looking at her so... tenderly.

”I'm sorry.”