Bite Me, Your Grace

She nodded. “Yes, I—”

 

“You are not in the slightest bit afraid of me, are you?” he interrupted, staring at her as if she were an exotic animal.

 

She regarded him with a measure of surprise, realizing that she was not. “Should I be?” she reasoned aloud. “You are not the soulless creature the myths portray.”

 

“What makes you say that?” He seemed to be genuinely curious, as if what she thought mattered to him.

 

Angelica shrugged, unused to a man taking her seriously. “Well, you have a reflection, for one thing.”

 

The vampire’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “A stone has no soul, but if you hold one before a mirror, will it not cast its reflection?”

 

Angelica’s eyes widened in astonishment at his logic and she nodded quickly. Her shoulders hunched as fury radiated within. Of course! Even a fool would realize that!

 

“You are angry and ashamed.” He sounded surprised. “Why?”

 

Her voice was ragged with self-contempt that she could not conceal. “I should have known that. The logic is stupidly apparent.”

 

“I do not believe I have ever seen a woman react in such a way over her ignorance.” The duke peered at her like she was an odd curiosity displayed for his entertainment.

 

His musing tone fueled the conflagration. A small measure of the contempt in her gaze was now directed at him. “Perhaps they hide it better than I do.”

 

Burnrath did not reply and instead continued to stare at her as if he could peer into her soul. Angelica shivered and brought the conversation to a more comfortable topic.

 

“All that aside, I do think it is now too late to fear you.” She forced an airy lilt to her tone. “After all, I should think if you had meant to kill me by now, you would have.”

 

The vampire leaned forward. “Death is not your only danger in being alone with me, little Angel.” He was so close that she could feel his breath on her lips, and her body, unbidden, began to tremble. He was going to kiss her! She closed her eyes and…

 

***

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

“Dammit!” Ian growled, leaping up from the sofa as the reality of the situation crashed upon him. “It is my coachman.”

 

He strode to the door, teeth clenched in irritation at the interruption.

 

“Your Grace?” Albert inquired, taking in the sight of Ian’s open shirt and bare feet. “I thought you were wanting me to take you to your club.”

 

“My plans have changed,” Ian said, prepared to dismiss the coachman. Then he remembered Angelica’s injuries. If she had not awakened so quickly, he could have healed her with his blood, but he didn’t dare frighten her further. “Would you be so kind as to fetch a doctor?”

 

“Why, are you unwell?” Albert asked anxiously.

 

“It is not for me.” He shut the door in the coachman’s face.

 

His foul mood faded as he returned to the beauty reclining on his sofa. He had never before met anyone as fascinating as Angelica Winthrop. Her passion for her writing humbled him even as the rich descriptions of her stories captivated him. His gaze caressed Angelica’s face and form, noting her fine-boned features and luscious lips that caused him to nearly forget himself and capture them in a devouring kiss.

 

“Is everything all right?” she asked nervously, her fists clenched in her lap.

 

“I sent for a doctor to see to your ankle, Miss Winthrop,” he said with forced formality even as he longed to return to their engaging conversation.

 

“Oh. Thank you.” Her long lashes swept her cheeks as if perhaps she regretted the return to propriety.

 

The cozy spell was broken and they spent the next half hour struggling with stilted small talk, not daring to meet each other’s gazes.

 

The doctor arrived, not batting an eye at the young lady in male garb.

 

“Miss Winthrop is a neighbor and dear friend of mine.” Ian had worked out a plausible lie. “She had a quarrel with her mother and sought a confidante. Unfortunately, she was so overwrought that she tripped on my doorstep.” He shook his head at the idea of such female silliness, ignoring Angelica’s snort of disgust.

 

“I want you to say she was found on the sidewalk,” Ian concluded. “She is well-bred and I do not want her compromised. You will be well compensated, naturally.”

 

Dr. Sampson nodded and patted his black medical bag. “Just the thing. Now I shall see to the little patient, and then we may get her home to her worried parents.”

 

Ian paced the hallway, hoping Angelica’s ankle wasn’t broken and that her foolish stunt wouldn’t get her into too much trouble. As his jaw clenched, he was disturbed about how much he cared, especially with the new concern that she’d reveal his secret. He frowned. Surely she couldn’t be so foolish. And if she was, what would he do then? He couldn’t kill her, and he sure as hell couldn’t Change her.