MIDNIGHT CONQUEST: Book 1 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (19 page)

Trying to cover her amusement, Davina made a dramatic display of plopping back into the chair and, from his seat across the table, Broderick presented a triumphant grin. With elbow on the table and chin in hand, she covered her mouth to hide her smile and helped him set up the pieces for the next game.

Broderick’s rush and violent onslaught unnerved Davina. She took a particular offense to his knight’s consistent pursuit of her queen.

“Must you be so brutal in your approach?” she quipped. “You give yourself no time to think about your next move. Can you at least savor the game?”

Broderick covered his mouth, making an obvious demonstration of stifling a fit of laughter.

Davina almost had as difficult a time as he did holding back her mirth, but that soon died as his pursuit became even more aggressive. She placed many obstacles in his way, sacrificing other important pieces just to save her queen, remaining defensive in her all of her moves. Protecting her queen became a single determination for her. She’d be damned if she’d let her go to that brute!

In three more moves, Davina found her piece cornered and captured. She’d lost her queen. One more move—checkmate. Her face flushed with heat, but that subsided once she remembered this game went far better than the last. Surely he would be content with this attempt. The rampant emotions running through her were confusing and uncomfortable. She couldn’t decide if she enjoyed his company or couldn’t stand being around him. “You have had your game. Now go!”

“The game still held no satisfaction for me, mistress. Much more challenging, I will admit. Your anger seemed to improve your game, but your efforts were not good enough.”

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she sat back into her chair, as casual as she could muster, and laced her hands in her lap. “I’m afraid I’ve given you my best, sir. Methinks I’m not as good as I thought. Or at least not as good as you are.”

“Well, if your efforts were the best you could do…” Broderick shook his head with the corners of his mouth turned down in pity. “Who taught you to play?”

Now
that
hit a tender spot. Davina rose from the table and Broderick snatched her wrist. “My brother, sir! And I will have you know he was a very good chess player!”

Broderick’s face softened and he released her hand. “Please accept my sincerest apologies, Davina. I didn’t mean to stir grievous feelings over your late brother.”

Davina rubbed her wrist, eying Broderick with suspicion as she sat back down. “How do you know of my brother?”

“When I touched you, I could feel the anguish and grief. I saw flashes of him. I could feel the depth of your affection.”

Davina gazed off into the past.
Ah, my sweet Kehr. What a void I have since your death.
“Will the pain ever go away?” she whispered, forgetting for the moment she wasn’t alone.

“Nay, milady.” Broderick rested his elbows upon the chair’s arms and steepled his fingers under his chin. “The grief may dull over the years, but it never completely fades away.”

“You talk from experience.”

Broderick nodded. “My family was murdered.”

“Your family?”

“Aye. My two brothers, their families, and my parents.”

Davina gasped. “Your entire family?” The grief of losing her brother and father was overwhelming at times, but she couldn’t imagine losing everyone she held dear. Empathy swelled in her for Broderick’s loss and she fought back the tears stinging her eyes. “How could you bear such a loss? How did you survive?”

Broderick shifted in his chair with apparent discomfort over the question.

“Please forgive my intrusion,” she apologized with haste. “‘Tis not my place to ask such an intimate question. I find I’m desperate to talk about my own losses, maybe learn to cope as well as you seem to have.” A thick stillness fell and Davina stared at the chess pieces, not wanting to chance a confrontation. After a long moment, she braved a glance up, and the compassion in his eyes surprised her. “Do you ever talk about it?”

“About the pain? About what happened?”

Davina nodded.

“Nay.” And he averted his gaze.

“I thought…” She trailed off, her hands fidgeting a nervous dance in the folds of her skirt.

“What, Davina,” his voice coaxed.

“Well, ‘tis rather…well…I actually feel relieved I’m not alone in my grief.”

“Do you not grieve with your mother, the other members of your household?” Broderick leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms upon the table.

“At first, but a short time thereafter, no one would mention their names. No one would speak about those precious times spent with them. Their deaths seem too much to bear. It has become an unspoken rule in our home, try as I might to overcome the silence.”

“Names? You spoke only of your brother.”

Davina cleared her throat. “Both my father and brother died at the Battle of Flodden Field.”

“I suppose that senseless war left a lot of orphans and widows in its wake. I remember Kehr,” Broderick whispered, staring into the past.

“You what?” How could he know her brother?

“From the first night you came into my tent. You and your brother used to steal honey from the pantry.”

Soft laughter fluttered over Davina’s lips. “Aye. We kept our little secret for a while. I should have taken your advice and not stolen so much at once. You—” Davina stopped, her mouth hanging open for a moment. “You remember.”

The corner of Broderick’s mouth turned up. “Aye. I remember.”

Davina’s heart slammed against her chest. He remembered her! He knew her! Then her face grew flush. “Why the charade? Why did you pretend as if you didn’t know me?”

He remained seated, leaning back in his chair, at ease. “I did not.”

“You most certainly—!”

“Nay, milady. I just never made you aware of my recollection.”

“You conniving—!”

“I am no such thing.” Broderick raised his eyebrows and studied her with amusement in his eyes. “Why, may I ask, does this vex you so, milady?” Broderick rose from his chair and swaggered toward her.

Standing and backing away from him, she stammered, “I am not…you…I…” Davina cringed over her senseless response. Damn her and her ridiculous desire for this man!

“I would say you have quite a bit of your heart invested in this. Why is it so important I remember you?”

Davina stopped and stood her ground. “Nothing could be further from the truth, sir. Methinks you displayed devious behavior.”

“Devious?”

“Aye, devious! You had the upper hand and took advantage of me!”

Broderick’s grin grew and he continued to advance, his voice as creamy as ever. “I wager you have been thinking about me for a very long time that I should have such an advantage over you, as you say.”

“You conceited—!”

“Aye, you have.”

Davina gasped as she found herself in a corner. Before she could dodge his path, he trapped her, pressing his body against hers. “Admit it, Davina,” he breathed hot against her cheek. “Tell me you never stopped thinking about me.”

“You are mad!” Her struggling profited nothing against him.

His lips stroked her skin, his nose pushed back her hair, revealing her ear to his mouth. “Say it,” his voice caressed.

“Nay.” She panted as his tongue dove inside her ear, then around it, lapping at her lobe and tapping a primitive part of her being. He nibbled his way across her jaw to her lips, where his mouth hovered for a moment, his heavy breath mingling with hers. Her own heated desire reflected in his eyes and burned her soul. Closing her eyes, she fought him no more. Broderick moaned and slanted his mouth across hers.

Lost. And for the moment, Davina wanted to be that way. Lost in the long-awaited taste of Broderick’s kisses. Lost in the years she ached to have him hold her as he did now. Lost in the fantasy that his hunger proved he thought of her over the years as much as she did him. In the dream that he ached for her, trembled in her arms, swooned in her kiss just as she did his.

Chapter Seven

Broderick threaded his fingers into the thickness of Davina’s tawny tresses and he pulled her harder against him, groaning into her mouth. His lips devoured her, touching her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, claiming her lips once more and capturing the taste of her at last. Davina’s yearning merged with his growing hunger to absorb her, body and soul. His mouth traveled to her throat, his tongue dancing a hot, wet trail across her skin. They seemed to cling to each other in a desperate attempt to become one in their union, leaving Broderick breathless.

Stopping for the moment, he broke from their kiss and struggled to maintain some control over his senses. The rose oil from her heated skin mixed with the scent of her blood, and his mind swirled. Opening his eyes, he searched to stave off the spell engulfing him, fighting off the dizzying effect.

Broderick’s breathing, ragged and trembling, screamed a warning. He closed his eyes and fell into another ardent kiss, but more demanding, his body tense, a new and powerful yearning coursing through him. Davina’s excitement, mixed with her fear, titillated his senses, making it near impossible to pull away. Her fear ignited the Hunger hiding behind his passion, and the familiar and deadly pain shot across his gums, his mouth watering, his tongue aching to sample the sweetness her blood promised. A low, guttural growl rumbled from Broderick’s chest as he wrestled to keep himself from giving in, and with a sudden force, he shoved away from her.

“Broderick?” Davina’s trembling voice beckoned to his instincts, a temptation too great for the immortal side of him to resist.

“I apologize for my display, Mistress Davina,” he rasped, his words wooden and rough in texture. Broderick kept his back to her. Seeing her so vulnerable would be his undoing…and hers. He straightened his clothing to try and gain composure over his deadly instincts. “I enjoyed our games and hope to spend more time with you in the future. If you will excuse me.” Without a backward glance, he left her alone in the parlor and rushed to the nearest exit through the kitchen. The cold night air, a welcome reprieve. No one in sight, to his relief, Broderick proceeded quickly through the courtyard and headed toward the gate. Just as he rounded the corner of the castle, the light from the parlor’s oriel window caught his eye…as did the silhouette of Davina. He made an abrupt stop, seized by the vision of her staring at him. Even in the darkness, in her shaded features, he could see her lips swollen from his kisses and the sadness in her eyes.
Better the sorrow in her eyes, than her blood on my hands.

A trick of the torches, she told herself, as his silver glowing eyes stared at her through the darkness, and yet a strangely familiar dread came over her and settled into the pit of her stomach. Davina shuddered and her heart pounded. Broderick turned on his heel and stomped out of the courtyard through the gate.

“You fancy him?” Lilias asked.

Davina turned to her mother, standing beside her. “Nonsense. He’s a beast.” Davina realized her hands clutched the sill of the oriel window. To avoid her mother’s admonishment, Davina left and distracted herself by visiting the nursery to check on her daughter. Cailin lay sleeping like an angel nestled in the clouds. With a kiss to her plump cheek, Davina slipped out and went to her adjoining chamber.

Here, she was alone. Rosselyn had not yet come back, still with Nicabar somewhere, she supposed. With methodical routine, Davina readied for bed and slid beneath the large comforter. She lay watching the flickering firelight. Her emotions danced about like the flames, and she struggled to rein them in.

“Broderick MacDougal.” She tasted his name, at last putting a full identity to the man who had given her strength and haunted her. Broderick elicited such confusing weights upon her heart. She ached for him to continue his advances because he drew out of her the overwhelming desire to surrender; and yet those very same feelings scared her to death.

Davina tossed in her bed, as if trying to make the uncomfortable feelings go away by making her body comfortable. It seemed obvious Broderick knew something about grief she did not. He seemed to have succeeded where she failed. Would time, eventually, cure the grief? Would he be open enough to share his experiences with her? And where would such confessions lead?

She shifted with unease. Davina guessed Broderick’s interest in her held only primitive motivations, and she knew how those encounters ended. Were all encounters so shallow? Rosselyn often spoke of the pleasures of joining. What did Rosselyn find that Davina had not? Rosselyn talked often of tenderness and caresses. Her own mother uncharacteristically told Davina on her wedding night that lovemaking could be the most wonderful experience when one knew deep love. Yet Davina’s own experience with Ian was brutal, unfeeling and painful, and especially humiliating. Her cousins even spoke of the act with disgust or as their duty. None of them mentioned love, passion or thrills.