She felt one of her shoulders creep up toward her ear. In a quiet, shaky voice, she said, “You didn’t give me any time to finesse.”
“No, I didn’t, did I?” he said. “You just tied Evenfall’s IT administrator into gibbering knots.”
His voice had turned gentle again. While she suspected that gentleness of his was not always a safe or good thing to hear, this time he didn’t appear to be angry with her. Not quite angry. She didn’t think.
When the silence became too prolonged, she said, “So . . . Did I pass your test? Am I still staying?”
“Oh, indeed you are,” he told her. Finally he looked away, and only then did she realize how intense his gaze had been, like a spotlight, and how much the pressure eased from her chest when she was released from it. “Tomorrow you can explain to Gavin just how you did what you did, but for now, I believe I’ve asked quite enough from you for one evening. That will be all for tonight. Raoul has seen to your needs?”
Relief tried to turn her legs to noodles. She swallowed and said, “I— Yes.”
“Then I’ll say good night.”
As he stood back, she rose to her feet and almost turned to go, but then paused to look at him again. “Xavier?”
He looked at her, slim eyebrows raised, looking as surprised as she was that she chose to linger in his presence. “Yes?”
A Vampyre’s gaze was supposed to be mesmerizing, but he hadn’t used it to force her into doing anything. According to his promise, he never would. Until she had reason to do otherwise, she might as well take him at his word.
She met his gaze. “Thank you for this opportunity. I really mean it. I’ll work hard and do everything you or Raoul ask of me.”
He smiled again, and it must have been her imagination that said there was something slightly wistful about it. “Very good, Tess.”
Awkwardly, she returned his nod, and she left the room with a huge sense of relief and an equal amount of disquiet.
Outside in the hall, Raoul waited. When she appeared, he escorted her to the attendants’ house without saying a word. If he had heard anything of what had happened in the study, it didn’t show in his bland expression.
The tension from the last fifteen minutes faded and exhaustion rolled over her, as inescapable as the tide. Light-headed and shaky, she could have sworn she could still feel where Xavier’s lips had rested on the thin skin of her wrist.
If she hadn’t been so afraid of him, so tensed for the bite, it might have been . . . pleasurable.
If he weren’t a Vampyre intent on feeding from her, his actions could have been construed as . . . caring.
She rubbed the area with a scowl.
She was grateful he had refrained from taking blood, and she was still frightened of him, but mostly he just confused her. He prompted her to think of things she didn’t want to consider. While she had caught glimpses of his sharp, powerful personality, overall, he had shown her a depth of courtesy, thoughtfulness and feeling that she simply had no idea what to do with, even when she had been challenging or downright rude.
No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t put him in a simple conceptual box. He didn’t fit. He was too big, too complicated. The very fact that she couldn’t simply label him and be done with it made her uneasy. It hinted at an unknown future, one where she learned new things and made adaptations, and became a stranger to herself.
She shook off the uneasiness. She could handle learning and adapting, as long as it meant survival. For now, supper was waiting and she could take time to settle into her own room, and put all thoughts of Xavier del Torro out of her mind.
? ? ?
Left alone, Xavier paced the room in long, quick strides, while his mind raced. As he reached the sitting area, he glanced at the book he’d been reading, but a quiet contemplation of Descartes’s intelligent, ordered philosophy wasn’t in his foreseeable future.
To save wear and tear on the book’s spine, he closed it without bothering to mark the page. He and Descartes’s writings were old friends, and he would reread all the old passages soon enough.
He went back to his desk and checked his email. Already there were fifty-six replies to the blast email. Like an apologetic cough, the program emitted a discreet ding and the number of unread replies updated to seventy-two.
Something shook through him, and he burst out laughing. He dialed Gavin’s number again, and Gavin answered without a greeting. “Never mind, I figured out how she fucking did it. Your computer is compromised. Are you coming to Evenfall this evening?”
“Yes, I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Bring it with you. I’ll wipe the hard drive and reinstall everything while you’re here.”