The Vampire’s Fake Fiancée

He’d been nearly three hundred years without the touch or affection or attention of a woman. Surely one honest kiss wouldn’t undo the very delicate self-control he’d put into place, would it?

Tessa stared at him, her pretty blue eyes filled with doubt. “I’m ready when you are.”

There was a challenge in her voice. It was enough to make his decision. He was going to kiss this woman like his life depended on it.

He threaded his fingers into her hair and brought his lips to hers.

The sweetness of her mouth combined with the warmth and softness of her lips into a glorious cascade of sensation. It showered over him like sparks, biting into his skin with a mix of pain and pleasure.

Oh yes, he remembered this. What it felt like to kiss a beautiful woman. Except this sensation was far beyond anything he’d experienced with Evangeline. Maybe it had been so long that he didn’t remember it accurately. Or maybe he was just that out of practice.

Or maybe it was Tessa.

He teased his tongue along the seam of her lips. They parted and his tongue grazed hers tentatively, testing for her response.

It came a second later as she moaned softly, a sound so quiet it could have been a whisper, but it spilled from her throat as involuntarily as a breath. The sound washed over him like a balm, soothing the scars that latticed his soul. Scars left by Evangeline. Deep down inside, a part of him broke open.

He almost wept with how much he’d missed this small intimacy. The contact. The communion of touch. To think otherwise was a lie. His throat constricted with need and his fangs ached with the craving to have even more of her. All of her.

In his head, he knew he needed to stop.

But that knowledge didn’t match the desire that burned through his body.

A slave to the overwhelming need for more of her, he indulged the kiss a moment longer, lingering at her mouth like the succulent offering it was, until at her second, louder moan, he finally released her.

Her eyes stayed closed for three long seconds as she inhaled a breath that seemed to have no end. When her lids lifted, she blinked several times.

He realized his hands were still in her silky tresses. He eased them free, already wondering when he might be able to kiss her again.

She just stared at him.

“Better?” he asked. If she said no, he’d have no other recourse than to take her somewhere private for his third attempt. Because there would be a third. Sebastian Ellingham was no quitter.

She nodded and swallowed and blinked some more.

Her cheeks were flushed. He’d met her challenge, that much was plain. He took a modicum of joy from that.

“That was…” She cleared her throat and gripped the bag of sweets a little tighter. “That was much more convincing. I think that will do. If an occasion for such a thing even arises.” She laughed in a sort of nervous, giddy way that seemed very unlike her. “Probably won’t, but who knows?”

“Right. If needed. And only if needed.” Except, bloody hell, he was ready to do it all over again immediately.

She jerked like she’d suddenly remembered where she was. “I should probably get home.”

“The car’s not far from here.” He got them moving toward it and imagined she was happy for the reprieve from being face to face with him. Perhaps he’d put too much into the kiss. Had he offended her? Taken the kiss too far? Damn his inexperience with women. With normal women, anyway.

Silence hung between them until he’d gotten her settled into the car and taken his own seat behind the wheel. Traffic was minimal. He drove up Main to make a U-turn at the light, buying himself a few more minutes to figure out if he owed her an apology.

She broke the silence before he’d come to a conclusion. “What time do you want me tomorrow?”

His mind couldn’t quite process what she was asking, going somewhere he doubted she’d meant. Then the teeth of the cogs caught the wheels in his brain and everything made sense. “Early is fine. I don’t sleep much.”

“Neither do I. Eight a.m. too soon?”

“No, perfect. Come for breakfast then. I’ll tell Greaves.”

“Your butler?”

“Sort of.” She might not know what a rook was, but there would be plenty of time for explaining in the morning.

She nodded. “Eight it is.”

She seemed happy enough. Maybe he’d misread her being upset by the kiss. He pulled into her sister’s driveway and went around to open Tessa’s door.

She climbed out and gave him a little nod, holding her purse in one hand and the shopping bag in the other. “Thanks for dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before he could say anything, she leaned up, kissed him on the cheek, then darted toward the house.

She had her hand on the doorknob as he spoke. “Tomorrow, then. Sleep well.”

She nodded, a jerky, rapid motion. “You too. Night.”

Then she was through the door and gone.

He stared at the closed door. Women were curious creatures. He was nearly four hundred years old and what he understood about them wouldn’t cover a postage stamp. Not that he’d ever cared to improve upon that.

Not until now.

“How was it?” Jenna was lounging on the couch, eyes glued to the television where her favorite reality show, Real American Firefighters, was on, while eating ice cream out of the carton. She wore sweatpants with bleach stains and a NFPD T-shirt with a frayed hem. Jenna took her down time very seriously.

“It was fine.” Tessa couldn’t bring herself to say more than that because while she was slightly afraid of what adjectives might come out of her mouth, she was more afraid of her sister knowing the truth.