Stakes & Stilettos - Michelle Rowen [39]
I’d learned that a human’s blood was the first choice. A fellow vampire’s blood was a good second choice. Then there was animal blood, and the last resort, synthetic, which apparently had all of the nutrients but none of the zing.
I thought of it in terms of the human blood’s being the main course, and the vampire blood’s being dessert. Only some vamps, like Thierry himself, had more of a sweet tooth than others.
It was so bizarre.
Bottom line, I’d gotten off easy tonight. I should be thanking my lucky stars.
Thank you, lucky stars.
I glanced down at the beautiful ring on my right hand and then looked up into Thierry’s eyes. A promise, he’d said. He hadn’t exactly clarified what that promise was. A promise he’d help me? A promise he’d be around and wouldn’t get any more stupid suicidal “I’m going to jump off a bridge” ideas into his vampire brain? A promise that after he had his marriage to Veronique annulled, we might have a real future together ahead of us?
All of the above. Pretty please.
He raised an eyebrow. “What is that for?”
“What is what for?”
“The smile.”
I felt the expression widen on my face. “I’m just reminding myself how lucky I am.”
“Lucky?”
“To have somebody who is willing to put up with the crazier moments in my life.”
He held out his hand. “Come. Let us get the rest of that glitter off you.”
I placed my hand in his and he led me to the bathroom. He moistened a facecloth and worked at gently removing the remainder of the powder Stacy had blown at me. He stroked the hair off my face and ran the warm cloth over my forehead, my cheeks, my neck, and even down between my breasts.
“Wow, she got it everywhere, didn’t she?” I breathed. This was starting to feel better than a general cleanup should.
“She did.” He pulled the thin red strap of the dress off one shoulder and slid the cloth over my exposed skin there before moving to the other side. That strap fell away as well.
He moistened the facecloth again under the tap water and pressed it against the faint mark of my stake wound. His silver eyes flicked to mine.
“How does this feel?” he asked.
“Really, really good.”
His lips twitched into a half smile. “No, I meant your wound. Does it still cause you pain?”
I looked down at the mark. My borrowed red dress had pulled away enough that I was barely covered. The pink mark from the wooden stake was now pale and shiny in the bathroom light.
“I barely notice it anymore.” I was such a liar.
He moved the cloth away and stroked his thumb against the mark. “Your healing abilities have greatly increased.”
“Another plus to being a vampire.”
“Yes. But my blood has allowed you to heal much more quickly than I even thought possible. In this case, I think it’s a very good thing.”
My dress slipped another inch. His fingers then grazed against my left breast. I think it was intentional. The heat of his touch felt as if it was branding me. His gaze locked with mine again. “I almost lost you that night,” he said.
“I’m hard to lose.”
“I don’t like feeling so powerless to help you. I don’t know who this Red Devil really is, but he has my eternal gratitude for saving you.”
I could barely concentrate on what he was saying. I was sort of focused on what his right hand was up to. “He… he should get a medal or something.”
“Or something.”
I licked my lips and tried to focus, but his fingers were circling my entire breast now and I wasn’t thinking straight. “Have you ever been staked?”
He nodded. “Several times. None of my wounds have come as close to being fatal as this one did, though. Too close.” The dress slid down to my waist as he leaned forward to kiss my chest over the wound. Over my heart. I leaned my weight against the bathroom counter, feeling a little light-headed and warmer by the second.
“Your heart,” he said, “is beating very fast for a vampire.”
Your average vampire’s heart beats approximately forty