A Vampire's Claim

Page 66

As the staff brought in wine, tea and appetizers, the three spoke comfortably of things that were occurring in Alistair’s territory, improvements in commerce, Australia’s continued allegiance to Britain versus control of its own governance, the possible visit by Queen Elizabeth and its impact. In some ways, it was little different from the conversations he’d hear at any other gathering of Aussie urbanites, except he was listening to three intelligent vampires who had centuries of experience between them in the cycles of change in governance. At another time, without apprehension of what else the evening might bring, he would have found it interesting.
“Well, I will say the new immigration policy is bringing them into Oz in droves, so we’re finally getting some decent food in this part of the world. My latest cook is from Italy. These appetizers will taunt you to come back for dinner soon, Danny.” Alistair sent an amused look toward her. “Since you insist on staying out in the bush, I’m sure you’re more than ready to see something on a plate other than lizards and kangaroo.”
“Well, we have other offerings, but when you visit, I’ll make sure a bowl of Bogong moths is prepared specially for you,” Danny returned sweetly. “Seriously, I’d love to have you and Nina out once the baby is born. I still can’t believe you’re going to be a father.”
“A frightening thought, for certain.” Alistair cast a fond look down at his reposed servant. “No one was more surprised than I when she conceived.”
“I was,” Lyssa remarked. “I didn’t think you’d leave off your strapping footy boys long enough to dip your wick into a female. Are you sure it’s yours? Your ego has been known to inflate enough to crowd out truth.” As they bantered, Dev decided there was another conversation going on between Master and servant. For Nina had twined her hand with his on her hip, and was tracing the creases between his fingers in a decidedly stimulated way. He thought of Aapti and Chiyoko again, their obvious enthusiasm to flaunt their sensuality. Was it just a matter of time, experience, as Thomas said? And was it a matter of “the mind doth protest too much,” given that his cock wasn’t protesting at all, but rising to the occasion like a damn cheer-leader, merely contemplating what might happen tonight?
“Nina’s been mine from the beginning.” Alistair defended his honor without rancor. “And even if I couldn’t plumb her mind to the depths of her soul, I would not doubt her.”
Lyssa nodded, studying their linked hands as well. “Then we will guard her carefully, Alistair.” Alistair’s grip tightened on Nina. “No one will touch her,” he said, a dangerous look crossing his face. “Or our child.”
“They better not,” Lyssa responded. “Or I’ll feel I’ve failed in everything I’ve taught you.” The dessert was brought out then, a confection of chocolate, cream and strawberries shaped into a star on each plate, and the tense moment passed as Alistair smoothly became the affable host again.
Who would harm the baby, love?
He wasn’t sure Danny would answer him, but he couldn’t not ask, not after that frisson of danger had rippled through the room and he saw worry cross Nina’s delicate features. When Danny’s answer came, he felt an easing of his shoulders from the connection, though her answer itself was far from reassuring.
No one would harm the baby. But there are vampires who would try to pass it off as their own if they could take the mother before she gives birth. They would kill Nina the moment the child was born, because she would be only a liability to them then and they would want the baby to blood-bond with them.
Alistair had moved their intertwined hands down to cup over Nina’s belly, a reassurance to the mother-to-be. Dev felt a surge of protective anger himself. Lady Lyssa might have waited until Nina wasn’t in the room.
No. It may irritate him, but Nina needs to be as alert as he is. He knows that. He’s just being a typically overprotective male. He heard the smile in her voice, and again, it gave him a shot of warmth. Nina may seem fragile, but she is quite capable.
However, it’s another reason Lyssa is here. She’ll provide additional protection until the baby is born next month.
Alistair spoke then. “Lady Lyssa, as our guest of honor, would you choose the evening’s entertainment, while we enjoy our dessert?”
And just like that, Dev’s warm feeling disappeared, swept away by anxiety.
20
“THOUGH of course,” Alistair continued, “I beg the indulgence of a protective father-to-be and prohibit Nina from anything too exerting. With your monk enjoying a similar status, though no one in the vampire world but you understands why”—he apparently had the privilege of teasing his sire—“we can involve the house staff, though regrettably they’re not as well versed in such matters.”
“I like being a woman of mystery.” Lyssa took a small bite, her eyes closed as she sampled the dessert. “Marvelous, Alistair. My compliments to the chef.” Then she opened her eyes, turned them to Devlin. “I don’t think we’ll need any of the household staff. I’d like to see how Devlin handles pain at the hands of his Mistress. See if he will submit to it.” Danny had lifted her fork with a bite of the chocolate star and was inhaling it, her delicate nostrils flared. As far as Dev could tell, the suggestion didn’t cause even a hitch to her movement. “Chocolate liqueur . . . A very nice touch.” She placed the morsel in her mouth, savoring before performing a comfortable single swallow, all her vampire constitution would accept of human food, that one tantalizing taste.
“Dev,” she said at last. “Please go to the room Alistair provided and bring me your whip and your hunting knife. When you retrieve them, strip off all your clothes and leave them in the room.”
A pair of household staff entered as if summoned by Alistair, to shift a decorative silk screen panel, revealing a spoked wheel hung parallel to the floor from a large hook embedded in the ceiling beam. From the sections of the wheel hung a series of chains.
Can you submit to me, bushman?
As she turned her head farther, he locked gazes with her. The soft wetness of her lips, her long golden lashes, even the porcelain trifle in her hair, all spoke of a beautiful, desirable woman. Most men would say they’d do anything for the touch of such a creature, the privilege of her bed. But taking that step with this one was more than an empty declaration.
At the dinner with Ruskin and Ian, she’d had him do something he’d like to do anyway. Even pulling the other two women into it had fallen in line with male fantasy. Uncomfortable and over the top, it had still been doable.
What are you willing to do for me, Dev? Be for me? You come back, you’ll be forced to face that question. Maybe it’s best if neither of us ever know the answer. If you leave, before or after, I will not suffer consequences from this company as I would have with Ruskin or Ian.
He gave her a bow, lifting his head to meet her eyes. “I will return, my lady.” Maybe he was the only one who saw the faint tremor that went through her hand, resting on her thigh. If he hadn’t seen it, perhaps he would have chosen differently, but he didn’t think so. Thomas was right. There was a moment when you accepted things, or walked away.
Not only did he suspect whatever would happen in the next few hours was going to answer that question, he believed she’d planned for it to be brought to a head tonight. He understood Danny’s quiet for the past few days better now. His lady had been thinking. She was tired of waiting. She wanted it settled. Whatever happened, while he was sure that was probably for the best, he couldn’t deny the panicked feeling roiling in his gut, his surprise that she hadn’t given him any warning, any time to prepare for this.
He perhaps could handle what was about to happen in this room, but could he handle walking away, if that was the answer?
When he returned, stripped as she’d requested and carrying the whip and knife, her expression was unreadable, her mind closed.
That was unsettling, particularly since he was still recovering from the trauma of stepping out of his room in the altogether and running right into a maid coming down the hall with a stack of towels. That stack was the only thing that averted a pleasant collision between her generous bare breasts and his chest. She’d given a startled yelp and blushed, but when he snagged the top towel, which turned out to be a hand towel, he’d heard her whisper to another maid, “I don’t think that’s going to be big enough,” as they went giggling on down the hall.
He didn’t dare look back to see if they were ogling his arse, because he was fairly certain they were. Well, hell. He’d swum this way with Thomas, had stripped down in the army and in the Outback for years in front of the eyes of God and everyone else. And of course, Danny had told him things about vampires who refused to let their servants wear clothes at all when they were in the privacy of their properties. If it was expected behavior, like the attire of Alistair’s house staff, why should he be embarrassed?
So he’d pushed down his discomfort and made it back to the solarium, though he did use the towel, tossing it away before he turned the corner and stepped into the room.
Stand there, Dev.
He came to a halt while everyone in the room, with the exception of Thomas, studied the breadth of his shoulders, the slope of his chest, the tapering of waist and hip. He should have shot through like a Bondi tram and kept on going.
“Holy God,” Alistair said reverently. “You have a good eye, Danny.”
Okay, that was it. He was mad as a hatter for not bolting.
Then Danny rose from her chair, studying him as she balanced herself and took off one shoe, then the other, a curiously domestic gesture, losing several inches of height as she went to stockinged feet. She extended her hand. “Bring me the whip and the knife.” Having been in combat, he had the same hesitancy as most about giving a weapon to another, particularly a person who’d made it quite clear she intended to use it on him. He knew what the hunting blade could do to flesh, after all. Though of course he had no one but himself to blame. He was the daft bugger so accustomed to having the bloody things close to hand he couldn’t leave them at her house. Hell, he’d been uncomfortable leaving them in the guest room.