Valla busied herself making the tea as Elijah turned to leave the apartment, taking with him the frosty disapproval and pulsing power.
She breathed a faint sigh of relief, carrying the tray to the table and taking a seat.
“A little on the possessive side, is he?” the tiny gargoyle asked.
She shrugged, sipping the tea with an odd sense of disorientation.
Something had changed.
She just wasn’t sure what.
“He feels responsible for me,” she murmured absently.
Levet snorted, reaching for a cookie. “Responsibility isn’t the only thing he feels.”
Heat stained her cheeks. “Maybe not. He is a male, after all, but—”
“But what?”
Her fingers lifted to trace the scars that marred her cheek.
“After I escaped from the slavers I just wanted to crawl away somewhere and hide.” She shivered at the painful memories. “I don’t even remember how I made my way to France, but I was floating down the Seine on a rapidly sinking boat when Elijah found me and took me to his lair.”
“Ah.” His wings fluttered. “Your knight in shining armor.”
“Something like that.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
She hesitated, trying to put her nagging concern into words.
“Not bad,” she at last said. “He’s like most clan chiefs.”
“Arrogant pain in the derrières?”
She gave a sudden laugh. The small demon really was a charming companion.
“I was going to say that he’s obsessed with protecting the people he considers his duty.”
“Including you?”
“Elijah sees me as a damsel in distress, not a flesh-and-blood woman.” She grimaced. “I don’t want to be rescued.”
The gray eyes held an unspoken sympathy. “What do you want?”
“What every woman wants.” She glanced toward the window overlooking the rose garden drenched in silver moonlight. “To be loved.”
CHAPTER 3
Elijah made a sweep of the dark streets, pausing long enough to warn his lieutenants that the gargoyles were looking for trouble before heading back toward Valla’s apartment.
He smiled wryly as his feet followed the familiar route.
If he had any pride, he’d be heading back to his own lair. There were, after all, hundreds of beautiful women who would be eager to indulge his every desire. Hell. He could stop on the nearest street corner and within minutes there were be a dozen females hoping to capture his attention.
But the pride that had once led him to battle the corrupt chief to take command of Paris had been lost the moment he’d discovered a half-dead nymph floating down the Seine.
Even now he could remember the shock of recognition as he’d carried her in his arms to his lair, her golden hair flowing over his arm and her stunning blue eyes dazed. He’d known that he’d been waiting for this woman from the moment he’d awoken as a vampire.
She was his destined mate.
Unfortunately, the aggravating female hadn’t been prepared to accept her inevitable fate. And who could blame her?
She’d spent months being raped and tortured by animals before she’d managed to escape. And even then she’d nearly died. If it hadn’t been for his healers she would be in her grave.
Was it any wonder she needed to keep the world at a safe distance?
Including him.
So he bided his time, taking what Valla would offer and all the while leashing his hunger by a very thin thread.
A thread that had nearly snapped tonight, he remembered with a stab of white-hot excitement.
The taste of her lips had been even sweeter than he’d fantasized.
As ripe as strawberries with a hint of honey.
And her response . . .
Merde. Her desire had been every bit as eager as his.
If they’d been alone, he’d have taken her against the cabinets.
Instead he was walking the streets, still hard and aching with no immediate hope of relief.
His foul mood wasn’t improved as he entered the shadowed courtyard to discover the small gargoyle standing beside the fountain.
“What are you doing out here?” he demanded.
The creature gave a flap of his fairy wings. “Trying to help you.”
Elijah arched a brow. He was the most feared predator in France, perhaps in all of Europe. Even Victor, the clan chief of England, approached him with care.
“You imagine you can help me?”
“I may be small, but my powers are mighty.”
Elijah couldn’t resist. “So mighty that you’re hiding in a nymph’s apartment?”
Levet shrugged aside the insult, his polished tail playfully stirring the water that pooled at the base of the fountain.
“As you can imagine, I’m not a favorite among my people.” He shrugged. “But soon enough I will be reinstated into the Gargoyle Guild.”
“Hmm.” It couldn’t be too soon for Elijah. Not that he was jealous of the gargoyle, he hurriedly assured himself. Of course he wasn’t. Not even if Valla had shared her all-too-rare smile with the tiny demon. A smile she never shared with anyone but him. “And how do you propose to help me?”
“Beyond being a formidable warrior, I am also a favorite among females.”