The Raven (The Florentine 1)

“Maximilian is not a man. And nothing happened to him. No doubt he’s resting privately. Vampyres can’t survive in the sun.”

“But you can. You stood in the sun when you came to my room.”

William leaned forward at the waist and dropped his voice.

“That is an exception you’d best forget.”

She turned her head to the side, avoiding his eyes.

“And Bruno? How is he?” she persisted.

“There’s no change in his condition. The doctors don’t know if he’ll recover.”

“I want to see him.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave. It’s for your protection.”

Raven stood, panicking.

“But I have to go home. I have to see Bruno.”

William glared at her.

“I asked you repeatedly to leave the city. You refused. I warned you that you would come to me for help. And here you are.”

“You brought me here!”

“To save your life.” He crossed to her in two long strides. “Again and again, I offered help and you spurned it. You could have left the city, but you didn’t.”

“It would have been irrational for me to leave on the advice of a stranger who broke into my apartment.”

“My warnings were given in good faith. You ignored them. Now you’ve come to the attention of two of my associates. Ergo, you have entered my world whether you realize it or not.”

“What does that mean?”

He straightened proudly. “It means, Jane, that I shall offer you my protection. In return, you’ll give me what I want.”

“What’s that?”

William gave her a sensual look.

“You.”

Chapter Twenty-five

“Excuse me?” Raven wasn’t sure she’d heard what she thought she’d heard.

William’s expression left no ambiguity, as his eyes traveled the length of her body.

“I warned you that I would exact a price. The price is you. You’ll be safe living here. If you wish, I can continue administering blood so your leg will remain sound.

“I have the largest private collection of Renaissance art in the world. Much of it has never been restored. I’ll give you free rein to assess my collection and restore it. I’ll even build a lab for you, out there.” He pointed to the gardens that lay beyond the library windows.

“I’d live here as your personal art restorer?”

His lips twitched. “I’d have other, personal expectations of you.”

“Sex?” Her voice sounded higher than normal.

“Of course.”

“Why?”

He seemed surprised by her question.

He reached out to cup her face and his eyes grew soft. “Because you interest me. It has been many, many years since someone caught my attention.”

Raven couldn’t pretend she didn’t like his gentle voice or the way he touched her, as if he truly found her pleasing.

She didn’t know him well enough to know if he was lying or not. It was possible this was some tortured game and that she was merely a pawn in a greater contest.

His kiss the previous evening had felt sincere. But Raven had been deceived before, and so she didn’t trust her feelings.

She wished she were more used to a man’s attention. Perhaps then she wouldn’t be so affected. So vulnerable.

“Is sex the same for vampyres?” She pulled away from him.

His hand dropped to his side and he frowned. “The same as what?”

“The same as when you were human.”

“I couldn’t tell you,” he said coolly.

His demeanor didn’t invite interrogation and so she elected not to pursue the ambiguity in his statement.

But she made a mental note to ask about it later.

He ran his thumb across his lower lip. “When a vampyre feeds from a human, the urge to engage in intercourse is overwhelming. Sex and feeding go together, almost universally.”

Raven wrinkled her nose in revulsion.

“Do vampyres ever have sex with one another?”

“In some cases.”

“Do they feed from one another, too?”

“Sometimes, but vampyres need human blood in order to maintain their health.”

Raven decided to keep William’s attention fixed on answering questions, in order to give herself time to plan an escape. She tried to look curious.

“Why would a vampyre feed from another vampyre?”

“It bonds the two. There may be political or expedient reasons to forge that bond. The blood of an older vampyre can strengthen a younger one.”

“Are you bonded with anyone?”

“No.” He moved away from her abruptly. “I need to disclose that when a vampyre takes a human lover, the human becomes overwhelmed by the experience and develops an addiction to it. In some cases, the human begs to become a vampyre. In other cases, the vampyre gets carried away and kills the human.”

He paused, noting her reaction.

Her jaw had dropped open and she was gazing at him in horror.

He hastened to explain himself.

“You should know that I am what they call an old one—I’ve been a vampyre for centuries. I have more power than the others and I have much more control. I won’t be carried away when I drink from you. You’re safe with me.”

Raven laughed without amusement. “Safe? Nothing you have said so far makes me feel safe. And thanks for the invitation, but I’m not interested in having sex with you.”

William smiled a slow, sensuous smile. “You say one thing but your body says something else. Your heart rate escalates when I touch you and you hold your breath. Your pupils dilate and your skin warms. One might almost think you are aroused.”

Raven felt her cheeks flush.

“I can’t help biology.”

“Neither can I,” he retorted, coming nearer.

“Are all vampyres misogynists? I had no idea.”

His eyebrows lifted. “I am not a misogynist. In fact, I’m a great admirer of women. I’m simply stating what your body already recognizes—you are attracted to me.”

“Find another art restorer to snack on.”

He moved closer, his eyes fixed on hers. “You don’t know the pleasure I’m capable of giving you. There are those who would beg to become my lover, just for one night.”

Raven’s gaze dropped to his mouth.

He licked his lips.

She shook her head, as if trying to snap out of it.

“Then you should have no trouble finding a willing partner. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

He stepped in front of her. “In a few days, the two bloods I administered to you will disappear from your system and I’ll be able to enjoy your true vintage. I’ve been looking forward to sampling it for a while.”

“You’d drink my blood?”

He gave her a half smile.

“Vampyres tend to do that.”

“I’d rather die.”

“What?” His tone was harsh, if not incredulous.

“You stole the illustrations from the Uffizi and now you’ve kidnapped me. I don’t care what you are. I have no intention of staying with you as a sex slave or a fountain drink or anything else.”

He scowled. “You wouldn’t be a slave. You’d be royalty.”

“You said I’d be under your control.”

“I said that’s usual. You should know by now that you are far from usual. In fact, I think you’re strong-minded enough to maintain a degree of autonomy despite an intense sexual relationship with me.”

“A degree of autonomy isn’t freedom.”

“Being my lover is.” He reached out and traced her collarbones from shoulder to shoulder. “Freedom to enjoy the pleasure I’ll give you. Freedom to leave your cares behind and focus only on living a life of erotic delight.”

“That isn’t an inducement.” She set her teeth. “I’d rather kill myself than be touched against m

y will.”

William glared. “I am not a rapist.”

“So you say.”

“I saved you from being raped and I killed three men in order to do it,” he hissed.

“Maybe because you wanted to finish the job.”

“Cave,” he warned.

He was perilously close to losing his temper, but, through a visible effort, he restrained himself.

He clenched his jaw.

“You’d end your life, simply to avoid this?”

Raven lifted her chin. “Yes.”

“Do you know what happens to suicides after they die?”

She shrugged. “They go to sleep and never wake up.”

“No, they don’t. Suicide is the worst thing a human being can do. You shouldn’t even consider it.” William looked deeply into her eyes. “You say you don’t want this, but I saw you blush. You want me to touch you. You want to be in my bed.”

“No.” She spoke defiantly.

“Convince me.”

His gray eyes dropped to her lips.

He brought his body to within a hairsbreadth of hers, but didn’t touch her. His mouth hovered close.

Raven waited, expecting him to kiss her.

He didn’t.

She inhaled deeply.

Still, he didn’t move.

“Cassita,” he murmured. The movement of his mouth brought their lips in contact, but only for a second.

Then his lips were on hers and he was kissing her.

His hand sifted through her long hair, cupping the back of her head. He brought their bodies together, erasing the space between them.

Then he slowed the tempo of his lips to an agonizing crawl. He pressed against her, brushing his lips across hers as if the distance were interminable and he had all the time in the world.