The Raven (The Florentine 1)

Chapter Forty

Although William was unable to meditate while holding Raven in his arms, he was surprised to discover that the posture calmed and relaxed him. He closed his eyes and rested, allowing his mind to drift like a sailboat over the sea.

He felt a modicum of guilt for the way he’d treated her—first, allowing her to exchange her freedom for his assistance with her friends, and second, exacting her painful history in exchange for Emerson’s life.

Don’t you get tired of death? Her sweet voice echoed in his ears.

The truth was he did tire of it. When the Black Death scourged Florence and he had to scavenge for uninfected humans on which to feed, he tired of death. When the old prince allowed the brethren to kill without limit, including infants and children, he tired of death.

He overcame his fatigue by killing the Prince and taking over the principality. He accumulated wealth and power, he allowed his appetites to be fed, and he derived a measure of satisfaction from all his pursuits.

But he lacked hope. He lacked peace. The only way he could continue was to never, ever think of the future.

Of course, Raven couldn’t know that vampyres didn’t live forever. That the Curia had cursed them to a life of only a thousand years. Still, given his age, he had time and time enough to spare.

He’d outlive her.

The thought burned through him.

William released Raven as gently as he could, determined not to wake her. He retired to one of the guest bedrooms so he could shower and dress.

His considerable respect for her had increased a hundredfold. He was more determined than ever to make her his.

He simply needed to be patient, and patient he was.

“Good morning.” William looked down into Raven’s wide green eyes.

“Good morning.” Her tone was hesitant.

He leaned over and kissed her.

“Did you sleep well?” He spoke against her lips.

She nodded.

“What’s the matter?” He sat next to her on the bed.

“I don’t know,” she confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“You came to see me; we had a meeting of the minds. Emerson is safe and you’re wearing my protection.” William gestured to her right wrist. “Is that an adequate summary of the evening’s activities?”

She lifted her wrist to examine the bracelet, a small smile playing on her lips.

Her eyes moved to her protector’s. “So you won’t harm Professor Emerson?”

“If he commits an infraction within the city, there will be consequences. But I won’t harm him because of the illustrations. I’ve decided to channel my energies in other directions.” William’s mouth extended into a provocative smile.

“What directions might that be?”

“Here.”

He brought their lips together, this time seeking entrance to her mouth immediately.

Raven welcomed him inside, curving her hand around the back of his neck and pulling him closer.

William’s lips pressed, devoured, tantalized.

His fingers spanned her waist. Then they ascended underneath her blouse to her breasts. He traced the opening before slipping his hand under the material to cup her bra, his hands cool.

She hummed appreciatively and he began circling his fingers, stroking and rolling.

Raven moved her hand to his hair, winding the strands. She tilted her head, languorously exploring his mouth, reveling in the feel and taste of him.

With a growl, William shifted, lightning fast. He pulled the covers from her lower body and brought his hips between her legs, arching over her.

His mouth descended to her neck, kissing and sucking at the flesh beneath her ear.

She moaned and he lowered his lips to her breasts, pushing her blouse aside and kissing across the skin that swelled above her bra.

“William,” she whispered.

His arousal was pressing up against her, through their clothing. He slid his hand down her side, his touch scorching, and lifted her leg to wrap around his hip.

“William,” she groaned.

He looked down at her, his eyes alight, his beautiful mouth parted.

“Let me pleasure you,” he rasped, kissing her fiercely.

“I can’t.” Her voice was small, her expression conflicted. “What happened last night, what I told you—I’m a mess.”

“Spend the night with me, here, in my bed.”

“William, I—”

He lifted a hand to her face, his touch light and soothing.

“Come to me tonight.”

“I’m not promising to sleep with you.”

“Why not?” He kissed her again, this time gently.

“I’m worried about my heart.”

He arched an eyebrow at the space between her breasts, his lips curving up into a half smile.

“Not that heart.” Her eyes slid to the side. “When you laugh at me, it will hurt.”

William’s expression grew thunderous.

“Have I given you any indication that I find this funny?”

“No,” she whispered.

“What I want most at this moment is to peel your clothes from your body and place my tongue between your legs.”

Raven’s eyes flew to his.

Naked desire shone in his eyes; electricity shot across his skin.

He traced her lower body with his finger. “Let me in.”

“I know myself.” Her eyes slid to the side again. “I know my failings and I know my fate. I’m supposed to be alone.”

“I can’t see how that’s possible, since I believe you’re supposed to be with me, in my arms, in my bed.”

Her green eyes fixed on his. “I’ve had two lovers, William. Neither of them made me feel the way I feel when I’m in your arms. If we do this, I’ll become attached to you.”

He lifted her wrist, moving the bracelet aside.

“You are already attached to me.” He began to kiss her wrist, drawing the flesh into his mouth and sucking.

“Vampyres may not have feelings, but humans do. You know this.”

William paused.

“It isn’t correct to say that vampyres are entirely without feeling. It depends on the vampyre.”

“And you?”

“I lack empathy, like most vampyres. Except when it comes to you.”

She lifted her hand and placed it over his heart.

She felt what she thought was his heartbeat, but it felt strange. It was stronger than a human heartbeat, but after it pulsed it would fall silent for several seconds.

“You have a heart.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I didn’t know vampyres had working hearts.”

“We need our blood to circulate, to keep the body working. Life is in the blood.”

“The other night, when you took me home after taking me to meet the others, you mentioned hope. What do you hope for, William?”

He frowned. “That I wouldn’t be condemned to an eternity of empty darkness.”

Raven cringed at his words. “Is that what you have?”

“Not exactly.” His expression grew guarded. “Somehow the darkness recedes when you’re near.”

She withdrew her hand and he grasped it, kissing the back of it.

“Your skin smells of roses.” He inhaled deeply. “It’s exquisite.”

He pressed his lips against the length of her arm, moving back and forth at a leisurely pace.

“This is my warning,” she whispered. “My heart is part of my body.”

He touched the space between her breasts. “I will treat you, all of you, with care.”

Raven watched as the beautiful, flawless man above her kissed her wrist with absolute abandon and found words tumbling out of her mouth.

“I’ll come to you tonight. But I don’t promise to sleep with you.”

William smiled slowly.

“I enjoy a challenge.”

He kissed her once mor

e, an embrace burning with promise, then he withdrew. He extended his hand to help her out of bed.

“I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Raven focused on his retreating back, part of her wondering why she had resisted him.

After breakfast, William introduced her to another member of his security team, a tall, bald man with extremely broad shoulders.

“Raven, this is Marco.”

“Polo,” she blurted out.

William and Marco eyed her quizzically.

“I’m afraid you have him mistaken with someone who died many, many years ago,” William said, his lips twitching.