Anca was rattled by the way her father’s
eyes darkened. She could sense his and Demi’s mounting tension, and was
determined not to continue the conversation. As she searched her mind for a
safer topic, she reached for the wine.
She took a sip and choked. It was thick and
cloying, with a metallic taste. She reached for the linen napkin under the
heavy silver cutlery, quickly wiping away the thick red liquid leaking down her
chin. “I’m sorry.” She could feel her cheeks heat with embarrassment.
Valdemeer gestured to Geza. “Bring Anca
water immediately. She isn’t accustomed to our native wine.”
She nodded. Within seconds, a crystal goblet
of iced water appeared before her, and she drank deeply.
“It takes some getting used to,” Demi said,
as she lowered the goblet. “Corsovan wine is more…robust than traditional
vintages.”
She nodded, but didn’t respond. Robust was
one way to describe it, she supposed. To her, it was more than robust. Corsovan
wine tasted a lot like blood.
As the meal progressed, Anca fought back
yawn after yawn. The days of travel had caught up with her, and she could
barely keep open her eyes. She struggled to uphold her end of the conversation
and answer Valdemeer’s seemingly never-ending stream of questions, but it got
more difficult to form coherent answers.
He must have realized, because he pushed
away his untouched plate and nodded to Demi. “Nicodemus will see you to your
room now, Anca. If you’re inclined tomorrow evening before dinner, we’ll play a
game of chess. I would like to see if you remember anything from your school
club.”
Anca smothered a yawn with her hand and nodded.
“It’s been years since I had time for a game. I’d like to give it a try.”
“Excellent.”
Demi stood up and pulled out her chair.
“Come.”
She stood up, laying her napkin beside her
almost full plate. The snack Demi brought her on the train had stuck with her.
Coupled with her mounting exhaustion, she hadn’t had much of an appetite. Only
Demi had done justice to the vegetables and lamb. “I’ll see you at breakfast,
Papa.”
He shook his head. “I keep odd hours, Anca.
It will be the evening before I’ll be free.”
“Okay.” Impulsively, she walked to his seat
and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight, Papa.”
He touched her hand on his shoulder,
squeezing gently. “Goodnight,
copia
.”
“Child,” Demi translated in a whisper.
She
stood up and followed Demi from the dining room and through the castle. Instead
of learning the route to her room, she focused on the way his buttocks flexed
in the tailored slacks.
A hint of alertness returned as some of her
sleepiness ebbed, replaced by a stirring of sexual tension. Her body ached for
his. Common sense didn’t offer much of a barrier to her desire. All the reasons
she had thought of earlier to avoid getting involved with Demi seemed less
important now.
She was so intent on her thoughts that she
didn’t pay attention when Demi stopped moving and turned in her direction. She
walked right into him before she could stop herself. Her breath escaped with a
sigh as his arms came around her to steady her.
He was frowning down at her. “Are you all
right, Anca?”
She nodded. Her stomach tightened, and she
licked her lips. “Fine, Demi.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the
other, which caused her chest to brush more fully against his. She put her
hands on his chest. “Just fine,” she said in a husky whisper.
He cleared his throat. “Well…“ He trailed
off as his eyes met hers.
Anca stared up at him, enchanted by the
ruddy color in his cheeks. As she licked her lips again, with deliberate
slowness this time, his cock hardened and pressed into her hip. She wriggled
against him, smiling when he cupped his hands around her buttocks and pulled
her lower body closer to his.
“What game are you playing?” he growled.
She shrugged as she moved her hand up to the
back of his neck and twirled a lock of his hair around her finger. “I don’t
know,” she said honestly. “I don’t think it’s a game.” She cuddled closer. “I
want you, Demi. I felt it the moment I touched you. I
saw
us making love
that night in my shop.”
He made a sound of frustration. “It’s too
soon,
meu dragostia
.”
“
Meu dragostia
?” she repeated with
confusion. “What’s that?”
“It’s Corsovan.”
Anca rolled her eyes. “Of course it is. What
does it mean?”
“It was a slip of the tongue.” Demi shook
his head. “I should leave you to sleep.”
She
shook her head. “Tell me what it means.”
He sighed. “It would be best—“
Anca yanked gently on his hair. “I’ll just
ask someone else if you don’t tell me.”
Demi’s mouth tightened. “Very well. It means
‘my love’. Are you satisfied now?” His face flushed a brilliant scarlet, and he
refused to meet her eyes.
She blinked at the telling statement, and
his even more revealing reaction. “You felt it too.”
He cursed. “I’ve always felt it, Anca. I’ve
known you were my destined lifemate since before you were born. All my life,
I’ve been prepared…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”
She frowned at him. “What? I don’t
understand.”
He eased her away from him. “Don’t ask me to
explain it all. That duty falls to your father or Ylenia.”
Anca’s head spun as she tried to absorb
everything he said. “Please, I don’t understand what you mean, Demi. What’s a
destined lifemate, and who is Ylenia? Is she my father’s mistress?”
Demi scowled. “Ylenia is the spiritual guide
of our people. She will tell you what you need to know.” His expression
hardened, and he dipped his head. “Goodnight.” He turned away from her.
Before he took a step, Anca put her hand on
his arm. “Wait.” He stiffened, but he didn’t move forward. “I’m only trying to
understand. Everything is so different here.” She took a deep breath,
suppressing the sob that wanted to emerge. She was appalled at the urge to cry
and blamed it on jet lag. “Everything has changed in the last three days. My
only constant has been you. Don’t leave me.”
Slowly, Demi turned back to face her. His
hand trembled when he stroked her cheek. “I will always be here for you.”
She bit her lip, overwhelmed by the
tenderness in his expression. “Am I truly your love, Demi?”
This time, there wasn’t a hint of
embarrassment in his expression. “Yes. I love you, Anca.”
A tangle of conflicting emotions whirled
through her. Pleasure at his words, mingled with fear. What did he expect from
her? In New York, if a man she had known three days told her he loved her, she
would run away as fast as she could. She would write him off as another crazy
and move on.
She didn’t doubt Demi’s sanity or sincerity.
Looking deep into his dark eyes, she could see the honest emotions reflected
back. More than that, she could feel his love emanating from him in waves. She
could almost see it and wondered if being in Corsova had honed her psychic
abilities.
“I don’t expect you to love me.” His voice
was hoarse, but he spoke levelly. “I didn’t plan to tell you anything yet.”
“Why not?” She bowed her head. “Are you
ashamed of loving me?”
“Never,” he said forcefully, “but you must
choose me.” With a gentle hand, he nudged up her chin. “It wasn’t my place to
burden you with my emotions.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. If
we’re destined to be together…” She trailed off, unable to accept so absurd a
concept. Sure, she was attracted to him, and felt a deeper emotional connection
with him than any man in her past, but destined lifemates? What an archaic
concept. It was almost as ridiculous as arranged marriages.
“Destiny orchestrates what should be, but no
one can force love if none is felt.” He stroked her cheek. “We must all be free
to choose what our heart wants.”
She swallowed. “You’ve chosen me, have you?”
She winced at the hint of skepticism in her tone.
He didn’t seem offended. “I was certain we
belonged together, but meeting you removed my last trace of doubt.” Demi
sighed. “You haven’t been raised as I have, to expect our union. This is too
much to spring on you. Rest now, and we’ll talk later—whenever you’re ready.”
Once again, he moved to step away from her,
but Anca locked her arms around his neck. “Don’t leave.”
“But—“
“Come inside with me.” She laid her cheek on
his chest. “I won’t pressure you to talk about anything, if you don’t want to.”
“What do you want from me?” He sounded
confused, not annoyed.
“Just hold me, Demi.” Anca held her breath,
waiting to see if he would agree. Again, she wondered what had happened to her
decision to be sensible and avoid any deepening relationship with him. Perhaps
she was just emotionally overwrought from meeting her father and longed for
comfort. Anyone would do.
Liar
, her heart whispered.
“If that’s what you want,” he said after a
long pause.
“Yes,”
she whispered. She dropped her arms and took his hand to lead him through the
wooden doors. As he fell in step behind her, she knew what had happened to her
previous plan. His complete forthrightness about his feelings had left her
without defenses. Before his revelation, she had wanted him, but now, her
desire was even more intense.
As they entered the chambers assigned to
her, Anca sensed the night ahead would change everything. The thought
frightened her, but it was also exhilarating. Giving herself to Demi seemed
like the most natural thing in the world, and she forgot about her fears as he
closed the door behind them and took her into his arms.
Chapter 7
Demi held her against his chest without
speaking or moving. Anca could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing through
her ear, until it mingled with her own inside her head. She closed her eyes and
let him support her. She yearned for his touch, but having him hold her was
almost enough.
She changed her mind when he nudged up her
chin and claimed her lips. At five-eight, she was tall, but he still topped her
by half a foot. He had to dip his head to kiss her, and she stretched her spine
to meet him.
His lips were soft against hers, coaxing her
into responding to his touch, but never demanding. He traced the plump contour
of her lower lips with his tongue, and she buried her fingers in his blond
hair. Anca parted her lips to urge his tongue inside, but he ignored the
invitation.
Instead, he trailed his tongue down her chin
to her neck. She closed her eyes and tipped her head backward as he breathed a
trail across the column of her throat, to the bend of her neck where it met her
shoulder. She pressed her lower body more firmly against his as he opened his
mouth and breathed against her skin.
Her nipples hardened as his breath caressed
her skin. She parted her legs and thrust her hips forward so she could straddle
his thigh with her pussy. She rubbed it against his leg.
Demi flicked his tongue across her skin in
teasing darts as one of his hands moved past her hips. He cupped her buttocks
and lifted her more fully onto his leg.
Anca gyrated her hips and cried out as Demi
nipped her neck. Her pussy tightened, and she moved her arms to lock them
around his neck. Her legs were weak, and she didn’t think she could stand at
all without his assistance.
He moved both of his hands to her hips and
lifted her into his arms. “Lock your legs around me,” he said when he lifted
his head.
Anca anchored both thighs around his waist.
Her eyes widened as he moved to the writing table instead of the bed. As he set
her on her feet beside it, she recognized the table from the vision she’d had of
the two of them the night she met Demi.
He stepped away a few inches so he had room
to strip off his light-blue button-down shirt. Anca’s hands went to the hem of
the red sweater she wore, but his hands covered hers.
“Let me.” His voice was husky, and his
cheeks had flushed pink. “I want to reveal you an inch at a time.”
She let her hands drop to her sides. Anca
waited for him to make the next move.
Demi dropped to his knees as he pushed up
the sweater to her midriff. He buried his face in the flesh of her stomach and,
once again, teased her with quick flicks of his tongue.
Anca anchored her hands in his hair, as her
pussy grew more slippery with her arousal. Her body reacted instinctively to
his proximity, preparing for his mouth to explore her pussy.
Instead, Demi moved upward, slowly rising
from his knees as he pushed up the sweater and followed its path with his
mouth.
She raised her arms for him to pull it off,
and then stood in front of him in her pants and bra. Anca’s swollen breasts
pushed against the cups of her red bra, and her nipples were so hard they
ached. “Please,” she whispered, cupping one of her breasts in her hand,
offering it to him. She traced the outline of the nipple with her finger.