Chapter Fifteen
In nearly six hundred years Ricard had not been treated like this. No human had the nerve to stare him down, let alone force him to look at her. When he thought back he wasn’t even sure his own sire had done this to him.
The experience nearly had him at a loss for words.
He studied the curlicued pipsqueak, noting the way her bottom lip quivered and the way her blood raced through the veins at her neck. Her eyes were slightly dilated, another sign of rising anxiety.
“I do not like for you to be afraid.”
“I just said I’m not afraid,” she said quite sharply.
“You are not afraid to be bitten, so you say. But you are afraid I may turn you away.”
She huffed. “How perceptive of you.”
“You bait me.”
“Hardly.” She shook her head but did not make eye contact when she answered.
The fact was the little imp was baiting him. She was doing her damnedest to tempt him into either fighting with her or simply taking her. He fought to keep his fangs from descending.
He hated to admit all she said was true. For centuries he’d tried to apply logic to love, thus separating himself from the pain. Theories and conjecture, hundreds of them, lay scrawled on parchment, in notebooks, on the computer. But the impetus behind each was a painful longing. He’d waited so long that he’d begun to doubt.
Now sitting on his lap was the one he waited all these years to find, and he was terrified.
“Really, you’re the one who baits me.” She stared beyond him at the wall. “Sending me in here to sit and wait while you and Serge and Rafe argued over who would question me in your special vampire way. The whole time you knew I’d see all those pictures and find your charts and see your notebooks. You sent me in here to get me all excited about thinking you wanted me.”
She turned to look at him with a glare. “Or maybe you sent me in here to make me think you’re some sweet and interested man who lives with love ideas formulating non-stop in his brilliant little brain.”
“You believe I have a little brain?”
She rolled her eyes. “Or, did you send me in here to break it to me scientifically? That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t have any interest in me. You’re not even thirsty enough to take a bite. You wanted me to see how scientifically focused you are and that you have no real desire for me other than to find out what I might know that could help you with your mission.”
He laughed. “Yes, that’s it exactly. It’s both of those things. For hundreds of years I have had so little interest in the concept of love that I’ve spent time trying to debunk it’s existence. Furthermore, because I found you in a weakened condition from this most recent loss concerning…” He paused, and Jessica nodded.
“In your weakened condition you made decisions that led me to believe you were easily influenced and thus any unintentional influence my superbly powerful presence had would have been the cause of you throwing yourself at me.”
“Throwing myself at you? Hmm.” She twisted her lips to the side and remained quiet for a moment. “You are so very confused and inexperienced in the ways of love to have misconstrued my attempts to lead you to the answer to all these many years of research.” She fanned a hand toward the desk.
“Oh, do explain. I would so love for you to help me conclude my research.”
“And I shall.” She squared her shoulders. “You see love sits in your lap, literally. There is no need for you to continue with your silly little experiments. There’s no need for conjecture or hypothesizing why some men find love and others do not.”
“You don’t say.” As the lovely little imp descended into a maddening logical explanation of why applying logic to love equated to lunacy Ricard could hardly follow the conversation.
All he could focus on was the way it felt to hold her and how everything in his world seemed to have shifted into the exact place it should be, the exact way it once was. The wall of pictures no longer looked like hundreds of test projects. Instead, he saw couple after couple, living proof, that love was real.
“…furthermore, if you do not accept my terms I am open to discussing yours. But, I will not be told no. Absolutely, that is not an acceptable answer.” Her finger pointed up into the air. “Actually…” She dropped her hand to his shoulder and turned to look at him. “Please just tell me you love me. I can’t take any more. I’m not half as good at this as my mom was.”
She dropped her head onto his shoulder. “Please.”
“I love you.”
Her head popped up. “Really?”
“Yes, darling. I do, and you know it.”
“I’ve known it since you came to my home. I knew the moment you set foot in the building. I felt it.” Her gaze dropped to Ricard’s lips, where his fangs were visible. “I’m not afraid,” she whispered and turned her head.
There was so much to tell her, so much he should share before this moment. He’d meant to say it all, to bare the painful truth of his past, but he could not. In this most perfect of moments he could not allow his secret to cast a black mark on the beginning of their love.
He bent toward her neck, pausing at her ear. “Neither am I, now that you’re here.”
His lips grazed over her skin, parting just enough to allow the tip of his tongue to glide along a pulsing vein. The sound of her soft sigh combined with the way her body relaxed against his broke Ricard’s resolve.
Being as gentle as he could he set his fangs into her skin.
Her breath caught in a frightened intake and her body jerked.
Ricard sensed a flurry of activity in her mind. It was as though a part of her was trying to rationalize the situation while another part of her swam in a tidal wave of pleasure.
The desperate attempts to remain in control and coherent through this moment when Ricard first tasted her were futile. For even though this was not the act that would bind them to each other for all eternity, it was a most important step forward.
This first taste of his mate would forever be burned into his soul. After this moment there would never be another he would crave. Not any other human would meet his need for blood. No other woman would capture his heart.
Do not fear, my love. He thought the words, sending them to her filled with all the love he felt.
Her mind did not calm. Her conscious mind clung to a state of wake that should not have been possible. Her strength in this second was surprising, far more powerful than any other humans.
Jessica, my love, relax. Allow me to care for you.
The churn of thoughts slowed. Once again she relaxed, though her breathing remained rushed.
Holding her to him, Ricard drank, and with each swallow she became more at ease. From the soft moans and the slowing respirations he knew she was no longer frightened.
Remaining focused on Jessica, Ricard noted her thoughts no longer ran wild. She calmly tried to explain how or why this could happen. Though there was acceptance, she still tried to explain it. This process intrigued him. He wondered at her ability to keep from slipping under his influence.
Drinking one last bit, Ricard memorized her taste. Hints of apricot flavored the metallic tang of her blood. Apricots. Ricard had not tasted anything as sweet in hundreds of years.
Apricots and chili.
A low growl, fueled by the excitement of recognizing his mate’s flavor, rumbled in his chest.
Jessica shivered.
Spicy. She was sweet and spicy, just the way any Spaniard loved his woman.
Sweet, spicy, and soft, the way a woman should be.
Jessica’s hold on him loosened, and Ricard realized he’d taken more from her than he should. Pulling back, he dotted several tender kisses to her neck, licking the puncture marks until they closed, leaving no apparent sign of what had happened. At least, not apparent to anyone who was not a vampire.
For a few moments she lay snuggled against Ricard’s chest, her eyes closed and a smile curving her full lips.
Long dark lashes hid her beautiful eyes. Those would be the first eyes he’d see every night from now forward.
Curls sprang in every direction, draping over his arm. Again the scent of raindrops at sunrise swirled.
Knowing this woman was his to cherish and love for the rest of his days pleased Ricard more than anything had in many years. He fought to ensure the fear of losing her would not overwhelm this moment.
As he sat holding her, waiting for her to awaken from quiet slumber, every moment of the last twenty-four hours played in his mind. At first he was bewildered by the turn of events.
In one short revolution of the sun he’d gone from being a scientist whose primary focus was on stopping Raymond Tyrone to a vampire in the throes of mate lust. His number one priority went from stopping a madman to loving a woman.
The transition was confusing. His brain held onto the concepts of science and the greater good of Central City and mankind.
Yet, his heart, a muscle which now seemed far stronger than his brain, demanded he reset his priorities.
Raymond Tyrone no longer seemed the titan he once did. Panthera Laboratories was not an unstoppable adversary. Instead, Ricard’s new priorities categorized the vile man as a rich, petulant, twisted child whose selfishness led to his death. Now Panthera would be more easily shut down. Rollins would be subdued and imprisoned.
From Ricard’s perspective Jessica was more powerful, far more intriguing, and full of secrets he could not wait to unlock. How had this human woman been able to maintain a separation between them while he fed from her? What power did she have? What secret was she keeping?
Secrets? The idea of his mate hiding information from him gave him great concern. She knew things he could not learn unless she told him, yet, she kept something hidden deep in her mind. Could she possibly have a secret as torturous as his?
How could he hide such a secret from his mate? How was it either of them could hide anything from the other?
This new perspective had Ricard more concerned than comforted.
Jessica gasped. Her eyebrows crinkled and her eyes moved rapidly beneath her eyelids. Her lips twitched.
“It’s all right, love. You’re only dreaming.” He cuddled her closer, whispering the words in her ear, and savoring the experience of holding his mate. Now was not the time to tell her.
Before long she relaxed, turning her face into his neck and curling up in his arms.
Ricard wondered if she dreamed of Joshua, which brought his thoughts back around to Tyrone and the experiments performed on the poor child. The entire Stevens family had been duped, used, and thrown aside by Panthera. The only one left to talk about it was Jessica.
He’d have bet his life she was high on Rollin’s list of people to find and torture next.
The fact these two people, one he hated, the other he loved with every cell in his body, were so completely intertwined changed everything.
It was not at all possible Tyrone would have known Jessica was anyone’s mate. But, based on the experiments on Joshua, her parents’ connection to Panthera’s research, and the fact Ricard was nearly a hundred percent confident Tyrone had experimented on their mother while she was pregnant and had purposefully driven Matt Stevens insane, it was nearly impossible to believe Jessica was not also a victim.
This hypothesis led him back to the fact Jessica was able to keep secrets from him.
Staring down at the woman he loved, Ricard realized Jessica knew far more about what she’d seen and heard from Panthera than she could share. But what was keeping her from sharing? That was the question.