Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (60 page)

“A billionaire then,” I stated and Lucien didn’t answer which meant yes. I powered through understanding this insane, totally unbelievable but still true tidbit of Lucien’s life and carried on, “So, essentially, it’s water off your back.”

Something drifted through his eyes, it wasn’t fast and it didn’t seem pleasant but I still couldn’t read it. Then it was gone like it had never been there.

Then he replied, “Essentially, yes.”

“Okay then,” I mumbled.

“Feel better now?” Lucien asked gently.

“Yes but you’re a billionaire so we can probably access arms dealers. Therefore we’re buying a flamethrower and I’m manning it should someone on The Council get a wild hair, do something stupid and they come after you.”

At that, a statement I made in jest (partially), Lucien’s entire face changed and I felt his body get tight. I also couldn’t read this change but I knew to my bones it was significant.

“Lucien?” I called when he didn’t speak.

He blinked, his body relaxed and his hand slid into my hair on the pillow where he started to twirl a lock around his finger.

“A flamethrower is unnecessary,” he whispered, his eyes warm, his face soft and even the air around us in our bed felt snug and safe.

“Of course,” I whispered back, sliding into his mood, the look on his face, in his eyes. “You could probably take on the lot.”

“Without a doubt.”

“So I have nothing to worry about.”

That thing drifted through his eyes again even as he murmured, “No, my pet, you have nothing to worry about.”

I didn’t like whatever was drifting through his features but, even so, I decided to trust him.

“Good,” I whispered.

His gaze moved over my face then his head dipped and even as his fingers kept twisting my hair, his lips moved on my neck. Lazy. Sweet. Nice.

My arms circled him. “Are we done talking?”

“Absolutely.”

“Are we going to sleep?”

“Absolutely not.”

I grinned. Then I twisted my neck, his head came up and our mouths met.

And we absolutely didn’t sleep.

Not for a long time.

And when we did, we did it close. Our bodies snug.

And, for my part, I did it feeling safe.

The Attack

I turned the faucet off, wrung out the washcloth, smoothed it over the edge of the basin and looked into the mirror as I grabbed a towel to dry my hands.

Lucien and I had just made love and he’d fed. It was beautiful. As good as always. Ecstasy.

I’d cleaned up and was wearing nothing but a short, ivory silk nightie. In the mirror, I could see the angry pink wound at my neck morphing, fading, healing. It didn’t take long now, less than half an hour, then it would be gone.

I watched the wound grow fainter for long moments thinking that was wild and totally freaking cool.

I folded and returned the towel to its loop and looked back at my reflection the mirror.

It had been a week and a half since we had the visits from our families. I was surprised but definitely not displeased that Lucien spent that entire time with me. We made love. He fed. We cooked together. We ate together. We walked to the lake and swam together. Ditto in the pool. We lay in bed or on the couch in the comfy seating area off the kitchen and whispered to each other or napped, doing both holding each other close. Lucien took me out to dinner twice. He took me shopping once. I made him watch a movie with me snuggled on the couch. I learned about his life, his family and vampires. I also learned he knew most everything about me but still, he liked hearing me tell my stories anyway.

The outside world intruded, of course. Edwina was there, quietly taking care of the house, stocking the fridge, sometimes clucking around us like a mother hen but usually making herself scarce because she felt the mood. My mother called, Aunt Nadia too, Stephanie, my sister and a couple of my cousins. They were worried about the nightmares I assured them (truthfully) I was no longer having. But I made short work of allaying their fears so I could get back to Lucien.

He also received calls, mostly business which he would take with me close. Sometimes they were about other things. Those he would take elsewhere. I was curious and wanted to ask because I sensed they were about me. But I didn’t because if it was bad, I didn’t want to know. Not then. Not in that golden time I fell in love with a vampire.

I stared at myself in the mirror, smiling.

There it was. Proof.

I was demented. Totally.

I was in love with Lucien.

I couldn’t have him, not like I could one of my own, to take vows with, make children with and grow old with. I also couldn’t have him like in the time before The Revolution, to take vows with, not make children with but to spend eternity together.

And I didn’t care.

I had him now. I loved him now.

And I knew it was in a way that I would love him for my forever.

To put it simply, there were not many girls who got the chance to fall in love with a vampire. To have his attention, his protection, his body, his humor, his generosity, his gentleness. He could be bossy and annoying but that was just him and he was hot doing it so although we exchanged words because he was who he was and I was too, it never amounted to much. I had been right, as crazy as it sounded. He had all the good stuff down pat and was the best boyfriend
ever
.

I didn’t know how long it would last, what we had. And I no longer cared.

Because I had it now and I would have it for a while and even when it was gone, I’d always have the memories we were making. And the moments we shared that would make the memories of years to come were so much better than anything I’d ever experienced, anything
any
woman would ever experience, were enough for me.

I knew it down to my bones.

The Mighty Vampire Lucien was mine… for now. So I was going to do whatever I had to do to make really fucking great memories.

But even more important, I was his. And, just as he promised, me giving him me meant something to him. Not something small, something huge. Something meaningful. Something sweet.

I knew that down to my bones too.

He loved me. He couldn’t be the way he was with me and not feel what I was feeling. It was impossible.

The strictures of his culture meant we couldn’t have forever. But he was just as intent as me to take what he could from the now and make it sweet.

I knew it. I
knew
it.

Right to the heart of me.

And he had been right. What he could give me when I gave him myself was beautiful.

I looked away from the mirror still smiling and wandered into the bedroom. Today was the end of our long, romantic interlude. He had an important meeting to attend that morning. To spend time with me, he’d postponed it twice which, he told me, was two times too many. However, he assured me, once it was done, he’d be back.

Therefore, I was a little surprised when I hit the bedroom that he was still in bed since I knew he needed to leave soon. But there he was. The covers down to his waist, chest exposed, arms lifted, his head resting on his hands and he was staring at the ceiling.

The urge came over me and I didn’t even try to suppress it. I had memories to make.

So I took off running across the large room. I saw his head come up and I launched myself on the bed, my body landing full-length on his large one.

He grunted, his body cocking at the hips but his arms locking around me as we bounced.

“Jesus, Leah,” he muttered when we settled, his lips twitching.

I planted my hands on his shoulders and smiled into his beautiful face.

“Right, so, something to take with you to your meeting that we’ll celebrate when you get back with fillet mignon smothered in homemade béarnaise sauce,” I started. His lip twitch became a grin and my smile got bigger before I did what I needed to do to make one, huge, beautiful fucking memory and without further ado announced, “I’m in love with you, Mighty Vampire Lucien.”

His grin died instantly even as his arms spasmed around me.

I felt my stomach clench.

Oh God.

“Leah,” he whispered, his deep voice sounding funny, rough, tortured. Exactly like it did the morning after the first time he fed when he nearly killed me.

Oh God!

I thought he felt the same or, if not the same, then
something.
He had to. With how hard he worked to get it, everything we shared, he had to.

But looking at his face I knew he didn’t.

Oh
God!

He didn’t.

I didn’t expect this. I never dreamed he didn’t feel the same as me. I could rejoice in the time we had, albeit short, if he returned my feelings.

I couldn’t bear it if he did not.

I didn’t know what to do.

But my body knew what to do and it prepared for escape.

Lucien felt it and in a nanosecond I was on my back with Lucien on top of me.

I knew I had no shot at getting away from him so I did the only thing I could do. I turned my head away and closed my eyes tight.

God.
God.

My vampire didn’t love me.

“Sweetling, look at me,” Lucien urged softly.

“Please, get off me,” I whispered and my voice sounded funny too. Rough. Tortured.

His big hand slid between my cheek and the pillow and he whispered, “Leah, sweetheart, please, look at me.”

I didn’t look at him but I said quietly, “I shouldn’t have said it. Forget I said it.”

“Look at me.”

“It didn’t happen. Just wipe it from your mind. Go to your meeting. We’ll both forget it and everything will be okay,” I whispered desperately.

“Leah,
please look at me.
”

It was then it occurred to me that his hand was cupping my face but he wasn’t forcing me to do what he wished. And it was then I opened my eyes, turned my head and looked at him.

I shouldn’t have done it. His handsome face was gentle and God,
God,
more beautiful than ever. His eyes were warm and openly troubled and that looked good on him too.

“I must attend this meeting,” he said gently. “It’s important or I wouldn’t leave you. Not now. Not when it’s essential we talk about a variety of things.”

I didn’t want to talk about a variety of things. I wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere and remind myself to stop being my…
fucking…
self. Doing stupid shit. Getting myself in trouble. Breaking my own fucking heart.

“Leah, did you hear me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“I’ll make this meeting short. I’ll get home as soon as I can and we’ll talk.”

“Okay,” I agreed knowing I’d take the time he was gone trying to figure out how I could get out of that talk even knowing I’d never get out of that talk.

“We should have talked before,” he told me, his thumb sweeping the apple of my cheek. “I knew that. We didn’t because I was enjoying you and I didn’t want that to interfere.”

He was
enjoying
me.

God, how could I forget? I was his meal. His fuck buddy. His pet.

God! How could I forget?

I should have remembered. I should never have fucking forgot.

It took everything I had,
everything,
but I fought back the sting of tears in my eyes and the ball of fire burning in my throat.

When I accomplished this herculean task, I whispered, “Go to your meeting. We’ll talk when you get back.”

“Back home,” he returned immediately and I blinked.

“What?”

“When I get back home.”

I knew what he was saying and it felt like he’d plunged a knife in my gut.

Why did he persist in this? Expecting me to give everything while holding himself away.

“Yes, when you get back home,” I forced out.

His face dipped closer and I braced, every part of me. I knew he felt it. I knew he heard my heart stuttering, my breath coming uneven. I knew he felt my body tightening. I knew it because I knew he had those abilities. And I knew it when I saw his face get even gentler, his eyes warmer and more troubled.

God, why wouldn’t he just go away?

“I told you what we had would be beautiful,” he reminded me, twisting that knife he left in my gut, making me bleed. “And I knew even before you said what you said earlier that you finally understood what I was giving to you. Now, you must understand our future.”

He was wrong.

I already understood it. I
always
understood it.

I just chose to ignore it.

Stupidly, as usual. Stupid, stupid,
stupidly.