When a long five minutes passed and she didn’t stir, Andre, still keeping a wary eye on her sleeping body, grabbed his laptop and silently stomped over to his favorite chair. He hastily but silently repositioned the chair and table to better observe his confusing guest, then sat and began dealing with that night’s tasks.
Seventeen minutes later, she fidgeted a little. It pissed Andre off that he knew this solely because he’d been staring at her for fourteen of the past seventeen minutes.
He hated being distracted. It was such a rare occurrence for him that, when it did happen, it galled him even further. His Maker often teased him that his extreme ability to focus should be considered one of this vampire gifts.
She had obviously never seen him around this particular female.
He finally gave up, closed his laptop, and faced her fully. She was beautiful even when he judged her with his highly-critical eye. She was much quicker mentally than the humans he usually had to deal with. She was certainly mouthier than he was used to, and much more forward. He could probably become accustomed to…
Wait…he brought himself up short. What the fuck was he thinking? He wasn’t going to keep her…was he? She did smell incredible. At least she didn’t simper. And she was extremely…fuckable.
Andre chastised himself…he never acted as rashly as he had done this night. Not only did he claim some girl he didn’t know, but he’d had her brought up to his private residence. In retrospect he considered that he should have had Sigebert take her to one of the donor quarters…but BeauChamps would have easily tracked her there.
He couldn’t suppress a low growl at the thought of that nasty bastard getting his hands and fangs on her. No. His first impulse had been right. She was best protected here, in his quarters…even if he had no idea of what the hell to do with her once she woke up.
His bright sea-blue eyes narrowed as he studied her sleep-flushed cheeks and elegant brows. He could fuck her, he guessed. He was definitely in the mood for a serious feed and fuck session. But…she was somehow important to his Maker, which told him that she was more than a regular, boring, disposable human. He just wished he knew in what way. He scowled as he felt his curiosity pique.
One of his Maker’s vampire gifts was the ability to discern potential in both humans and vampires. If Sophie-Anne had taken an interest in the girl, then there was something “more” about her. He wondered if his Maker knew the girl couldn’t be glamoured.
Either way, it seemed this Emma was in some way valuable to his Maker, and therefore her queendom, so it was only his duty to protect her…especially from scum like BeauChamps.
He almost smiled at the memory of her telling him to watch where she was going. Mon dieu but she was mouthy. His eyes zeroed in on her sleep-softened lips, and unbidden the memory of that kiss resurfaced with a vengeance.
He’d mostly meant the kiss as a ruse to hide her from the bastard’s attention, but he knew that if it had lasted another few seconds, he would have been too tempted to fuck her right there against the wall come what may.
He stared at his crotch with deep irritation as his cock rose to salute the memory of her lips under his.
So what if the bitch tasted better than anyone else he’d ever kissed. So what if her lips had melted under his like she was fucking made for him. So what if her scent made his fangs ache. Fuck. His fangs weren’t the only thing aching.
He scrubbed his hands over his face and shifted in his chair. The bitch had dimples, and she couldn’t be glamoured. He had an ominous feeling that she was telling the truth when she stated that she wasn’t a game.
He glanced at the clock. Damn. It was only four hours till sunrise. At his age, he could delay dying for the day by a couple of hours, but it wasn’t a gift he advertised.
So…he had four hours to wake the human up, get her fed as he supposed she might be hungry by now, and inform her of his plans and rules for her.
He grabbed his phone and, after finding the extension since he’d never used it before, called down to the palace kitchen. Sophie-Anne kept the palace donors well-fed, but the kitchen was kept in operation twenty-four hours a day primarily to keep her personal pets happy. Andre never understood the need to pander to pets so much, but he was glad the kitchen was open.
“I need food for one human female to be delivered as soon as possible.”
“Yes, this is Andre.”
“No, I do not know what kind.”
“Then send a fucking selection and she can decide what she wants!”
He slammed his phone to the table. How the hell was he supposed to know what human females ate?
Emma stretched, then rubbed her nose. Something was tickling it…something warm and fuzzy. A blanket? No wonder she was so nice and warm. She sat up to unravel the mystery of the mysteriously appearing blanket, and jumped at the unexpected male voice.
“Sleep well,” Andre queried as he stared at her from across the room. Although his voice was decidedly impassive, his gaze was intent as he studied her sleep-flushed face.
“Yeah, surprisingly enough, I did.” Emma stood and stretched, then removed her scrunchy to shake out her hair. She started to put her hair back up when he stopped her.
“Leave it down.” She didn’t like the command in his voice.
“Why? It gets in the way and is really annoying.”
Andre was stumped. He wasn’t accustomed to having his orders questioned. And, what was he supposed to say? He couldn’t tell her that her dark hair was beautiful, that he thought the waves flowing down her back were lovely. Could he? No, he could not.
“Ffft. Do as you will then.” He flicked his hand negligently.
Emma gave him an odd look, then twisted her hair back up in her usual messy knot. After she folded the blanket and placed it over the back of the sofa, she turned back to the gorgeous but enigmatic vampire. Was he always in such a mood?
“You’re Andre?” She wanted clarification.
“Yes.” Andre wasn’t happy. His interactions with humans were rarely a pleasant experience for either one of them, and this human was particularly baffling.
“Well, Andre, thank you for the blanket. And for getting me away from BeauChamps.” She walked her bare feet over to him. “I really do appreciate it. There’s just something…off…about him.”
He regarded her sternly. “Yes,” he agreed. “I would advise you to have nothing to do with him.”
Emma grimaced. “Ugh, I’m in total agreement with you there.” She looked around. “Erm, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to tend to some human needs.”
Andre nodded. As he watched her retreat to the bathroom, he couldn’t help but reaffirm his high opinion of her rounded ass. Even her fucking toe nails were cute.
Were humans even supposed to have cute toe nails? He wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure about was that he wasn’t as in control of this situation as he wanted.
Emma escaped to the bathroom. As she tended to her human needs, she wondered at how stilted everything was between them all of a sudden. Not like they had a “history” or anything, but still. Finally gathering her courage, she went back into the den and pretended not to notice Andre tracking her with his beautiful blue eyes.
She was glad she’d painted her toe nails the day before since they seemed to fascinate him. Maybe he had some sort of foot fetish? She knew that vampires were weird about sex – Sophie-Anne had told her a lot about vampire ways, and in fact was still trying to get “between her beautiful thighs” even though she knew full well that Emma didn’t swing that way.
Just as things were about to get really awkward, someone knocked on the door.
“Stay there,” he advised before opening the door. Balking at his tone, but appreciating the implied security, Emma sat back down on the sofa, and watched in amazement as a man rolled a huge cart of food into the room. The man bowed low to Andre, then quickly left.
Disgust plain on his face, Andre gestured toward the food. “Eat.”
After voicing his one-word command, he sat back down and continued to watch her.
Emma approached the food cart and wondered why they had sent so much food. Steak, baked potato, corn, fried shrimp, slaw, spinach salad, fruit salad, jambalaya, jello, and several other things she couldn’t immediately identify. Finally she grabbed a plate and loaded it up with some shrimp and fruit salad. She wasn’t actually hungry, but he had been thoughtful enough to order her a mountain of food. On second thought, that jambalaya did look good. So did the red jello.
Suddenly the impish part of Emma’s personality came to the front. No matter how nice he was actually being to her, Andre’s innate superiority-complex was rather annoying. So, after making her selections and fixing herself a cup of coffee from the carafe and glass of milk, she carted everything over to the small table where he was sitting. The shock was still plain on his face as she tugged a chair over and sat.
What…did he expect her to eat standing up at the cart?
“Thank you for dinner.” She glanced down at the spread before her, laughed, and looked back up at him. “It looks like I was pretty hungry.” She didn’t notice his eyes fixating on her dimples.
Andre found himself strangely fascinated as he watched her eat. At first he was just grateful she didn’t shove the food into her face and chew like a damn cow. He actively avoided watching humans eat – they were fucking disgusting.
He quickly grew to appreciate how she took small bites, and took time to savor the food that she put in her mouth. She was actually rather…neat…in her eating habits.
Then she flicked her tongue out to lick her lower lip. He was glad she didn’t see his fangs inadvertently descend. He prided himself on his stern self-control, and was glad she didn’t witness his sudden loss of it. He finally managed to retract his fangs just before she glanced up at him.
“Does it bother you to see a human eat?”
“Normally, yes.” His expression changed as if he suddenly remembered to be disgusted.
“Why? Is it the food, or the chewing, what?” Emma was determined to get him talking somehow.
“Both.” Or maybe not.
Andre wondered why her eyes were twinkling like she was about to laugh again. And why did she keep talking?
Emma concentrated on finishing her dinner. The food was really good; the company, not so much. He just kept staring at her, like he expected her to do tricks or something. He didn’t seem to be the least bit interested in having any sort of conversation. Frustrated with the whole ordeal, Emma took one last sip of her coffee…and almost felt when his gaze landed on her mouth as she licked an errant drop off her bottom lip.
Finally tired of the day and all its unexpected, confusing and bothersome excitements, Emma just wanted to go home. By her guesstimation dawn would arrive in an hour or so, and she figured Andre would want to spend a few minutes commanding her to be careful. She put her dirty dishes back on the cart, and went to wash her hands.
The moment Emma left the room, Andre pushed the offending food cart out the door. Knowing a long conversation was due to take place and having a vague memory of humans sipping from cups during one, he snagged the carafe, small jug, and cup from the cart and placed them on the table.
And paced. His Maker and queen favored this human, so he had to proceed carefully. Regardless of the outcome of this conversation, he couldn’t allow BeauChamps to harm her. Her safety was his primary concern; her comforts were secondary at best.
That he wasn’t sure how to proceed irritated him. That he was irritated angered him. That he cared at all really pissed him off. That he didn’t want to dim the beautiful light shining from her lovely, lively brown eyes floored him.
When he heard Emma leaving the bathroom, he vamped back to his seat, and waited.
Emma walked over to the sofa and started to put her shoes on.
What the fuck?
“What are you doing?”
Emma gasped and looked up – he was suddenly mere inches away from her – she hadn’t even heard him get up, much less approach her. She was so surprised by his unexpected closeness that she involuntarily leaned away from him and would have lost her balance if he hadn’t put an arm around her waist. She automatically raised a hand to his chest.
“J..just putting my shoes on so I can go?” She hadn’t meant it to come out as a question, but dang, he had such a way about him. He was almost a foot taller than she was, and he smelled incredible.
He tilted his head a bit. “Go…where,” he demanded.
“Home – that place where I live?”
He pulled her even closer. She forgot her shoes and let him, and tried not to notice how she brought her other hand up to his wide chest.
“I guarantee that if you leave here, if you leave my chambers, you will be followed. BeauChamps scented you, and will come after you if given the chance” he warned with a deep growl.
Emma’s jaw dropped and her eyes grew big with fear and surprise. “Seriously? I knew he was eyeing me, but why would he go through all that trouble?”
“Because you’re beautiful and you smell fucking delicious,” Andre snarled succinctly.
Emma blushed scarlet. “Oh. Well. That’s not good.” Then to Andre’s astonishment, she laughed. “I’ve always wanted to be irresistible, just, not like that. At least you’re not affected.”
He clasped her firmly to his chest with hard hands, and slowly trailed his nose from her ear down her throat to the crook of her neck…and back up. He touched the tip of his tongue to her skin, barely tasting her, and rasped into her ear, “Want to fucking bet?”
**Ok, so here’s a second chapter – is it still worth continuing? Your reviews matter, so let me know what you think! **