The Roman (The Florentine 3)

He exposed his chest. “My heart beats normally now. Come, feel.”

“No, thank you.” Raven narrowed her eyes, examining his face, chest, and hands. He looked like William, it was true, but William at about age forty rather than the twenty-something vampyre she’d known him as.

“You changed your hair.” One side of his mouth tipped up. “And your eye color.”

She didn’t respond.

He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip. “This reminds me of the day I had to prove to you I was a vampyre.”

He lifted his hand and stared at it. “I’ve been transformed. My heart beats, and red blood flows through my veins. I can’t be driving daggers into this body without doing damage.”

Raven ignored his display and kept her gaze focused on his eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“I think you know the answer.” He studied the floor, as if he were measuring the distance between them.

Raven flattened herself against the wall, her eyes moving to the brace she’d abandoned next to the desk. It was her only weapon.

The man’s gaze moved to hers, and his expression took on a new intensity. “Do you remember the first time I came to your apartment? When I gave you the relic from my teacher?”

Raven’s eyes widened, for as far as she knew, she and William had never discussed the events of that night with anyone.

“I called you Jane by mistake, because I’d seen the name in your passport. We talked about mercy and justice. I ordered you to leave the city.” He chuckled. “Of course, you didn’t listen. I’m glad. If you’d fled the city, I’d never have known you. I’d never have known hope, dancing in my arms.”

Raven covered her mouth with her hand.

The man’s brow crinkled. “I brought your stepfather from California and presented him to you as a macabre birthday present. But you instructed me to send him to the police instead. You asked me to set up a fund to help the children he’d abused. Did Monsieur Marchand tell you that he and his staff manage the fund? It was set up in your name, your name and Cara’s.”

Raven shook her head, too surprised to speak.

The man took a step forward. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. When I woke up, I had lost my memory. I thought it was 1274, and that my teacher had just died. I only came to myself a few days ago. But I’m here now. I love you, Raven. I swear by all that is holy I will never leave your side again, so long as I live.” His expression grew tortured.

“William?” she whispered, hoping against hope.

“I swear on my teacher.”

She rushed over to him, throwing her hands about his neck.

William’s arms were strong as they wound around her, crushing her to his chest. “Did they hurt you?”

“Sarah was able to get me away from the Curia before they could adjust my memories.” She spoke as her tears rained down on his chest.

“You’re crying.”

“Of course I’m crying. You’re alive.”

Beneath her ear his heart pounded, strong and steady. She pulled back in wonder. “Your heart is beating.”

“It tends to do that now.”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare make a joke. I saw what they did to you.” Her voice broke. “I watched you die.”

William’s own eyes began to water. “I am sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry it took me so long to return.”

Raven brushed the tears from his eyes, and William grasped her hand, staring at the evidence of his emotion.

“Those are the first tears I’ve cried since 1274.”

Raven placed her palm inside his opened shirt, against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat continued without any of the strange pauses it had favored while he was a vampyre.

She shook her head. “You’re human?”

“Yes. I’ve aged, as you can see. The scar I earned in a fall from a horse when I was sixteen has returned.” He gestured to his chin.

Reverently, Raven traced his scar. She placed her hands against his face, studying it intently. “You’re older than I am now.”

He chuckled. “I was always older than you.”

“You know what I mean. You were in your twenties when you were changed. You look older than that now.”

“Is that a problem?” he asked quickly.

“Of course not. I just don’t understand what happened.”

“I can’t explain why I’ve aged. This was the face I saw in the mirror after I awoke. But as for the transformation, Cassita, it’s nothing short of a miracle. I don’t know if you’ll believe me. But first…”

Tentatively, he grazed her cheek. When she didn’t pull away, he brought their mouths together. His warm lips poured over hers, a contrast to the coolness of his previous form.

He kissed her intensely, but with patience, tasting and savoring her lips and the inside of her mouth. When they parted, he pressed her ear to his heart and kissed her hair, over and over again.

“I didn’t expect you to be here. I thought Sarah’s people evacuated you to Prague.”

“They did, but Borek paid me a visit.”

William pulled back. “Borek? Were you wearing a relic?”

“Yes.” She pointed to her necklace. “Borek said he came to warn me—that Aoibhe sent him to hunt me. He looked for me here and in Budapest, then decided to visit Prague. That’s where he found me.”

“You believe him?”

“I don’t know. He warned me Aoibhe could have sent others and that I should flee. He also told me she had seized control of Florence. He didn’t want to live under her rule.”

“I can imagine. So Aoibhe gained the throne she always wanted. My poor Florence.” William wore a faraway look on his face. “We should go upstairs.”

They exited the vault and retraced the path to the elevator. The doors opened to reveal Monsieur Marchand, who was holding a large, flat wooden box. “I have the items you requested, sir.”

“Excellent.” William took the box from him. “We wish to retire to the apartment, undisturbed.”

“Of course.” The director accompanied them upstairs and to the other elevator before taking his leave.

William punched a code into the elevator keypad, and the doors opened.

“You don’t have to have your palm read? Or your eyeball scanned?” Raven gazed at him skeptically as they entered the elevator.

“No.”

“Why not?”

He pressed his lips to her temple. “Because I own the bank, and I didn’t want to give them vampyre biometrics.”

“Do they know you’re a vampyre?”

“That I was a vampire? No.”

“You own the whole bank?”

“Yes. I founded it in the fourteenth century, because I didn’t trust the Medici with my money. Over time, I have notified the bank staff of my death and the name of my heir. Funny how all of them were named William.” He winked.

“But the artwork, our clothes—how did you arrange everything to be moved?”

William’s features grew grim. “Long before I met you, I put in place an evacuation plan for the things I treasured most in case of a human war, fire, or some other threat. When it looked as if the Curia would march on Florence, I ordered my staff to send everything here. I wanted the art collection preserved for you.”

The elevator doors opened, revealing the entrance to the apartment. Once again, William entered a number on a keypad, and the doors swung open.

Raven headed for the bedroom, and William followed.

She sat on the bed and put her brace aside. Then she removed her colored contact lenses, discarding them onto a side table.

“Much better.” William took her hands in his. “The brave young woman with the great, green eyes. I knew the night I first saw you that you were one of the greatest goods of the world

and I should do whatever it took to save you. See how blessed I am because of you?”

Raven tugged at his hand, and he sat next to her.

“What’s in the box Monsieur Marchand gave you?”

“The relics of my teacher.” William kissed her fingertips, one by one. “They were transferred with everything else. I can’t bear to be separated from them.”

“Monsieur keeps referring to you as my husband.”

“Along with the art transfer, I left instructions for the bank to welcome my beautiful wife. I wanted you to have a refuge.” William fumbled in the pocket of his trousers.

He withdrew his hand. Nestled in his palm were two plain gold bands.

“It was not the best of circumstances in which to make a vow, but do you recall the words we exchanged in the Duomo?”

Raven’s gaze lifted from the rings to his eyes. “Yes.”

“I pledged myself to you before God. You did the same.” He lifted the smaller ring, and his face held a question.

She held out her left hand, and he slipped the ring over her finger.

“No hesitation.” His expression grew thoughtful.

“I made up my mind a long time ago.” She plucked the larger ring from his palm and slipped it over his finger. “I would have married you before, if you’d asked.”

A deep sigh of relief escaped from his chest.

She placed her arm around his waist. “Did you doubt me?”

“No, I’m just grateful for this second life. I swear I will do all I can to love and protect you.”

“I swear the same.” She kissed him.