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Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [837]

By Root 6783 0
smiling at?” Auggie asked.

“I thought you might be a threat to our domestic arrangement, but you won’t be able to behave yourself long enough to be a threat to any other man in Anita’s life.”

“Jean-Claude has already invited me down to sample the wares again.”

“Sample the wares,” I said, “what the fuck does that mean? Am I wares, things to be sampled? I don’t fucking think so.”

“See,” Micah said, “you keep this up and you won’t ever get the ardeur again.”

Jean-Claude joined us. “You are being exceptionally careless with your words, Augustine. It isn’t like you to be so impolitic.”

“He’s scared,” Nathaniel said. He came in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pressing his nakedness against my back. I didn’t have to see his face to know the look. It was a look he’d only recently worn around me. Possessive, it said, mine, it said. I’ll share, but it’s mine. He usually only brought the look out when someone was behaving badly, or he didn’t like them. I think we were all agreed on what we thought of Auggie. He was such bad news.

“Afraid of what, pussycat?” Auggie asked, disdain thick in his voice.

“Wanting Anita as badly as you do,” Nathaniel said.

The comment made me tense, but he pressed himself even closer, and I relaxed against him. He rested his face touching mine, so we probably looked like one of those posed engagement shots. Auggie was right about one thing; Nathaniel could play games when he wanted to. He played less and less as he got more comfortable with his life, and himself, but he hadn’t forgotten how to play.

“You don’t like wanting anyone that much. You see it as a weakness,” Nathaniel said, “and you’re beginning to realize just how hard to deal with Anita can be.”

I turned and looked at him, forcing him to move his head enough for us to make eye contact. “Do you find me difficult?”

He grinned. “I like being dominated.”

I started to say how hard I’d worked to ensure that he wasn’t dominated, then realized what the grin meant. He was teasing me. I tried to glare at him, but I wasn’t serious enough for it to work.

“Do not let your unease be your undoing in this, Augustine,” Jean-Claude said.

“What’s that mean?” he asked.

“It means that if you continue to say and do such things to ma petite, then I will not be able to offer you the ardeur from her.”

Auggie had a moment where something flashed through his eyes. For just a second I would have said it was fear. “Maybe I am being stupid, but I came to her looking for a Julianna and what I found is Belle.”

Jean-Claude’s face went very still. “Why would you say that?”

“I only saw you love two women in nearly six centuries, Jean-Claude. You don’t choose to love Belle Morte, she chooses it for you. You chose to love Julianna. I thought, if you had finally fallen in love again, that it would be someone like her. I thought that the tough talk, and the danger, were just surface. I thought if I scratched deep enough that Anita would be more like the only other human I ever saw you love.” Auggie shook his head. “You’ve got a physical type you like, petite brunettes, but beyond that”—he shook his head again—“Jesus, Jean-Claude, sweet Jesus, don’t you ever have anything in a woman’s personality that you like every time?”

“Did you come here thinking that if you pushed ma petite hard enough she would crack open and be gentle and feminine in the way of Julianna?”

“It wasn’t just you, Jean-Claude, but Asher, too. He never seemed to have a physical type, but personality; he liked gentle, laughing, comfortable women. Belle used to accuse him of being addicted to peasants, when it came to women.”

“And you reasoned that if one woman had kept both of us happy, she must meet the criteria for both of us.”

Auggie nodded.

“Logical,” Jean-Claude said. “Wrong, but logical. I had forgotten that about you.”

“Forgotten what?”

“That you tried to make of love and emotions something logical, something that could be understood.”

Auggie frowned at him. “You’re making fun of me.”

Jean-Claude shook his head. “No, but I would remind you that Asher went on his own and

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