Bed and Breakfast [Bloodkin 1] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) (10 page)

Or that what he told himself, at least. It was better to rationalize this and give himself a reason for his decision to stay. No, not a reason. An excuse. Because no matter how much he told himself that it would be all right, that it made sense for him to accept this employment, he didn’t dare to dwell on the heat he felt within him when Vane simply looked at him.

The truly insane thing was that Vane didn’t even try to seduce him. He followed the contract to the letter and had never tried to get Moss in his bed. Oh, he got aroused when he drank Moss’s blood, but he never tried to pursue him. At night, when he was alone in his room, Moss secretly admitted to himself that he’d have liked the bloodkin to reach out to him. Much to his shame, he’d sometimes found himself regretting that he hadn’t accepted the original terms of the “bed and breakfast” contract.

As maddening as the whole issue had become, Moss still liked his job. He liked being around Vane, even if the unavoidable feelings of arousal often flustered him. Vane was so cultured and intelligent that Moss found himself learning all sorts of interesting things from him. The other occupants of the house were very nice, especially Benson. For whatever reason, it seemed to Moss that Benson had a very strong friendship with Vane. It actually pleased Moss because he hated the thought of Vane having to bear a lonely existence before he’d come along.

In the end, though, Moss always told himself he needed to remember the truth about Vane’s nature. Even if Moss might have wanted to touch and caress the bloodkin, it was a horrible idea. No matter what his libido demanded, the fact remained that they were too different.

Three days after Moss’s fateful decision to work with Vane, though, Moss had a sort of revelation. He’d been acquainting himself with the state of Vane’s affair, which was taking up more time than he’d have liked. He wanted to do a good job and point out to Vane that he hadn’t made a mistake in hiring him.

He ate and slept because it was also a part of his duty, to remain in top physical shape so that he could feed Vane. But beyond that, the work kept him so busy that he didn’t interact with the rest of the staff as much as he’d have preferred.

All that changed one evening when Benson stalked into the office, looking just as mysterious as always. “I believe your presence is required in the living room,” he said.

“Is something the matter?” Moss asked, looking up from the papers he’d been studying.

“Not at all,” Benson replied. “We’re merely hosting a small celebration in honor of Lord Bloodmoor.”

A party?
“What’s the occasion?”

Was it Vane’s birthday? Did bloodkin even celebrate birthdays? Moss didn’t know, and he made a mental note to look up bloodkin traditions. It seemed that many things which he’d taken for granted regarding my boss were false.

“It’s not strictly for your employer,” Benson said, “but for the old Lord Bloodmoor, the former Kin Lord. Both he and his wife were killed many years ago, but Vane still remembers them fondly.”

Vane’s father and mother. Moss had wondered what had happened to Vane’s family since Vane never really mentioned them too much. It also didn’t escape Moss’s notice that Benson had called his employer by his first name. Even so, he didn’t make any comment. The old butler actually looked quite saddened as well, and Moss guessed Benson must have known Vane’s parents.

“I’m honored for the invite,” Moss replied, “but I’m not sure I should attend. Would my presence even be appropriate?”

Benson gave him a penetrating look with those eerily alert eyes. “Vane would want you there,” he said. “Or rather, he’s going to need you.”

Moss couldn’t resist that argument, so he nodded. “Should I go change?” he asked.

“You’re fine as you are,” Benson answered. “Come. Follow me.”

As they left the office, they headed downstairs, toward the living room. When he and Benson reached their destination, Moss found that the servants had already set out snacks, although the word was probably a little insulting when referring to the prepared meal. Moss suspected the dishes must have been something specifically bloodkin, perhaps with reference to the commemoration of someone’s death, since he didn’t recognize any of them. Then again, bloodkin didn’t have any cuisine of their own, for obvious reasons.

He got an answer to that dilemma when Vane entered the room through a different door. The bloodkin almost seemed to guess what Moss had been thinking and said, “They’re elven dishes. Thank you for your consideration, Benson.”

“It is, as always, my pleasure,” Benson replied smoothly.

Vane threw a look Moss’s way, and for all of Benson’s words, he didn’t seem very enthusiastic about Moss’s presence in the room. In fact, even if he’d expressed his gratitude toward Benson, he appeared to be displeased that the butler had organized this. “Thank you, Moss. Your presence isn’t required tonight.”

“I think it is,” Benson said. It was odd to see him outright contradicting Vane, especially since, under normal circumstances, he was the consummate professional. Perhaps, this time around, their friendship mattered more.

But Moss didn’t want to disturb Vane, especially on a day of mourning. Vane hadn’t mentioned it to him and hadn’t asked him for support of any kind. Maybe it would be better if he removed himself from the room.

He never had any idea what to say when something like this happened. The fact that Vane was bloodkin made it all even more awkward. Still, Moss felt that, at the very least, he should express his condolences.

“I’m very sorry about your loss,” he said lamely.

Vane shrugged. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Didn’t it? Moss wasn’t so sure. He wanted to inquire about it, but that would be more indiscreet than helpful. Torn, he looked between Vane and Benson, seeking an answer. He almost wished Benson had never sought him out. Paperwork, he could handle, but a recalcitrant Vane was a whole different matter.

What bothered Moss the most, though, was the idea that Vane might be suffering and Moss couldn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t even necessarily because of Moss’s strange attraction toward the bloodkin. He just didn’t like to see anyone suffering from pain and loss. Or so he told himself. He suspected that again, he might be trying to fool himself in that regard, but his own confused emotions didn’t matter so much right now. Vane was the one in pain.

“If there’s anything I can do to help…” he said slowly. “I know we’ve only just met, but I—”

He didn’t get to finish the phrase, as Vane released a heavy sigh and made his way to Moss’s side. The bloodkin took Moss’s hand and sat down on the couch, pulling Moss with him. Moss landed in Vane’s lap, which would have been a very interesting place to be, if not for the glum circumstances.

“Contrary to what Benson might think, I don’t need to talk about it,” Vane argued. His hand tangled in Moss’s hair, kneading Moss’s scalp. “Bloodkin don’t linger on that type of pain.”

“Well, maybe not on the pain,” Moss said carefully, “but the loss is still there. Surely you must miss them.” Moss would have suggested describing them, but Vane had already said he didn’t want to do that, so that would be prodding.

As it turned out, Vane showed far more openness than Moss had expected. His arms came around Moss, embracing him tightly. “You’re right,” he said. “I do miss them. I miss the way things used to be.”

Vane didn’t say anything more, and Moss chose to keep his mouth shut. He did notice that Benson had disappeared while Moss had been distracted, but that was really irrelevant. What mattered was the way Vane held Moss, like he was precious to him, something to be valued.

They didn’t speak, but they did hold on to each other. And that night, when Vane fed from him again, Moss could no longer deny what he’d instinctively felt in his heart. Bloodkin or not, Vane was a man he could easily fall for.

* * * *

“What in the world were you thinking, Kier?” Vane glared at his longtime friend furiously. “A commemoration of my father’s death? Did you like him so much and I accidentally missed it?”

Kier grimaced. “I didn’t dislike him. He and your mother were the ones who hated me. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I know you, Vane, and I respect your pain. And don’t forget, I lost something, too, back then.”

Vane couldn’t really bring himself to remain angry with Kier when he was reminded that Kier always did his own private mourning, and not only around this date. “I just wish you hadn’t involved Moss,” he mumbled.

“He’s good for you, Vane, and he likes you. Stop hiding behind your ridiculous notions and open your eyes. You dream together.”

Kier’s continuous involvement in Vane’s love life irritated him. “And what would you know of it? You’re not exactly a model for perfect relationships.”

Kier recoiled as if he’d been slapped. Vane cursed himself for even mentioning it, but it was too late to take the words back. For a few moments, they just stared at each other. “It looks like you’re in quite a mood today,” Kier finally said. “Do everyone a favor and talk to Moss. He’s probably worried about you.”

Without further ado, Kier turned on his heel and left. Vane plopped down on his chair and groaned. He really was on the edge. The reminder of his parents’ death hurt, but it wasn’t the only factor contributing to his temper. In fact, the most important issue in his life right now was a lovely human with deep-green eyes. Moss haunted his every waking moment. Vane was used to being in control, no matter what happened, but something about Moss shattered his every defense. Never in his life would he have imagined that he’d end up hugging a human he’d known for less than a week while seeking emotional comfort.

It was unlike him. All right, so Moss had many qualities. He seemed strikingly pure hearted, especially for someone who’d already suffered such disappointment in his life. But he was also so painfully gorgeous and so very eager to please it made Vane’s cock ache.

Vane had told himself over and over that this need for Moss must strictly be connected to the fact that he’d never had a “bed and breakfast” who didn’t provide “bed” services. It was the novelty of being denied. But Vane had never been good at fooling himself. He was a realist. His urgency and increasing desperation obviously had something to do with not being able to bed Moss, but that didn’t explain why he’d found it so interesting to simply hold the human.

He had to be strong. He’d committed himself to keeping a platonic relationship between them, and he had to stick to that.

Vane was still musing over the likelihood of that happening when a knock sounded at the door. It was shy and discreet, and even without his advanced senses, Vane would have easily guessed who was his visitor.

“Come in,” he called out.

The door opened, and Moss slid inside, his expression guarded and earnest. “I’m sorry to bother you, Lord Bloodmoor, but I had some questions regarding the documents you provided.”

Vane looked at him, barely managing to rein in his nearly irrational desire. “You’re not bothering me,” he said. “Please sit. I wanted to speak to you about something anyway.”

Moss hesitantly sat down on the seat in front of Vane’s desk. “Is there a problem?”

“About yesterday,” Vane began. “I apologize if I made you in any way uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to burden you with my problems or my past.”

Moss’s eyes widened. “Oh, you didn’t discomfit me. In fact, I’m flattered you chose to trust me.”

Great.
How could Vane tell him now that he had no plans to repeat the event? It would be terrible of him, but he had no choice. “Yes, well, I assure you it won’t happen again. You’re my secretary, and your main job isn’t to coddle or comfort me.”

Moss stared at him with those wide green eyes. “I understand,” he finally said. “Again, it was no bother, but I would never want to presume anything.”

His voice trembled a little, and Vane found himself getting up and going around the desk. He knelt in front of the chair and gripped Moss’s chin, forcing the human to face him. What was he doing? He had no clue.

He desperately wanted to kiss Moss, to feast on his blood, but also on his pleasure. Their gazes locked and held, and Vane found himself leaning closer. What would it be like to take Moss into his bed? He could do it. Moss wouldn’t refuse him. Moss wanted him. He could tell.

But a few days earlier, Moss hadn’t even known him. He’d come here seeking for employment and had almost refused Vane’s offer due to his understandable anxious attitude toward bloodkin.

In truth, very little had changed since that day. Moss and Vane still had a contract, one binding both of them to a certain type of behavior. For Moss’s own good, Vane wouldn’t break it.

Releasing the human, Vane pulled away. “You said you had a question about the documents,” he said. “What can I help you with?”

Moss blinked, as if snapping out of a daze, but then found his voice. “Indeed. I’ve found that certain individuals seem to be taking advantage of your trust in them. If I’m right in regard to this, they’re manipulating your finances.”

The human’s outrage amused Vane a little. He couldn’t say Moss wasn’t right to be angered by the deception, but usually, Vane was far too busy dealing with matters of life and death to handle minor squabbles like that.

Nevertheless, he didn’t appreciate being taken for a fool. “When you feel safe enough that you are correct in your assessments, feel free to address the people in question directly. You have my permission to handle the situation as you see fit.”