Page 67 of The Guardian's Curse

“Then I’m special, I suppose,” she said.

“That you are,” he said. “May I ask you about your life?”

She gave his arm a squeeze. “Considering what we just did, you don’t need permission,” she said wryly.

“Politeness is never out of place,” he said, kissing her ear. “If you prefer to lie here in sated silence, I would happily accommodate that as well.”

“Yes, you can ask.”

“I...I hardly know what to ask,” he said. “Tell me of your family.”

“My mother and brother live in New York,” she said. Her chest tightened. “My father passed about nine years ago.”

“I’m very sorry,” he said gently. “May I ask what happened?”

“He worked for vampires for my entire life, but ironically, it was cancer,” she said. “The most normal thing you could imagine.” And there hadn’t been a damned thing she could do about it.

“Your father worked for vampires? The Vasilieva, I’m assuming?”

She shook her head. “The Casteron. And I’m assuming that’s how Elliott ended up here looking for me.”

“Did he not consider being turned?” Alistair asked. “That’s how—” He paused, as if to hold back a secret. “Some vampires turn in order to escape human frailty.”

Her breath caught in her chest. “I know they offered, but he refused for some reason. I wish he had. I miss him.” Her eyes stung, and she pushed back into him. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry to bring up painful memories.” He gently rubbed her temples, strong fingers spiraling in tight circles.

She groaned in delight. “Keep doing that,” she said. “Ask anything you want.”

“Am I your first vampire lover?”

“Yep,” she said. “And you set a high bar.”

His chuckle rumbled through her. “I’m pleased. What do you want?”

“Right now?”

“In general,” he said. “When Elliott is no longer a problem and your contract is complete, what would you do?”

The question stunned her. Crossing his threshold had been like stepping through the looking-glass. She’d nearly forgotten her life outside these walls. “I want to finish my grand travail. Maybe go and study magic further.”

“And then?”

She laughed. “I don’t know. Just getting that far would be a good first step,” she said. “I’d like to keep studying magic so I can build more spells like the ones I’m working on here. Maybe stronger ones. Honestly, I’d just like to be comfortable and happy.”

His hands stilled, and he gently kissed her temple. “If I can do anything to make that possible, then I will.”

“You’re very sweet,” she said.

He scoffed. “I am not sweet. I am terrifying.”

“Sweet as pie,” she teased. “You’re every bit as sweet and delicious as that cream cheese frosting.”

In a blur, he pushed her onto her back and pinned her lightly. He kissed her ferociously, until she had to push him away to catch her breath. “I am not sweet, Miss York.”

“You’re not convincing me,” she teased. “Perhaps if you kiss me some more, I might believe you.”

He let out a little growl and set out to do that, and quite a bit more. By the time he was done making his argument, she was wrung out and exhausted, her chest heaving as the echoes of climax rippled through her.

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