Page 39 of Crimson Mate

Talia smiles up at me, those lilac eyes vulnerable as they meet mine. “Well,” she says, pairing it with a little shrug. “I'm not afraid of you anymore.”

Her smile turns sharp and devious, spiking heat straight through my veins. It was no secret I couldn't get enough of this female, but we were on a mission, so I did my best to keep my hands to myself.

“The Ashcrofts hired European artisans to build the estate we're standing in now,” the guide continues as the group looks over the portion of the sitting room we’re allowed to stand in—the rest of it sectioned off by velvet ropes—furniture and trinkets from centuries ago on display on the other side. “All of these are original furnishings,” the guide says, motioning to the fabric-covered couches, floral prints, and embroidered gold. “And it's said, at least by a few of our night keepers, that Lady Ashcroft herself can be found sitting in this very chair, an ethereal figure who longs to remain in her home.”

Talia snorts, barely covering up her laugh.

The guide spots her in the crowd, tilting his head as he continues with the tour, leading us out of the sitting room and through the kitchen, then on to the formal dining room, and the morning room next to it.

“And this is the morning room,” he says. “This is likely where Lady Ashcroft and Sir Ashcroft took their morning breakfast, along with their daughter when she was born.”

“Actually,” Talia speaks up, and I do my best not to cringe. “The morning room was used as school room, not a breakfast spot.”

The guide seems taken aback, then smiles almost pitifully at Talia. “I'm not sure where you heard that information,” he says. “But girls weren't educated in the fifteen hundreds. Unfortunately.”

“Tell that to my mother,” Talia mumbles under her breath, but the guide continues on, leading us through other various rooms in the estate.

“This is another spot where our night keepers claim they've seen an apparition, this one a masculine figure that could be Sir Ashcroft himself.” He points to a long hallway that leads to several bedrooms, those sections roped off and closed to the public.

Talia laughs, and I see her fingers flick just slightly?—

A stack of books topples over behind the group whose focus is on the opposite hallway. The humans jump, gasping as theylook to the guide and back to the pile of books now on the floor, which had been resting upon a Victorian desk tucked against the wall in a roped-off section of an open study.

The guide goes a few shades paler but clears his throat and smiles. “That was once Sir Ashcroft’s study,” he says, pointing to the open door, the humans now crowding around it, desperate for a look inside. “We have it sectioned off because there's a lot of paranormal activity reported there.”

“Clearly,” Talia says, doing everything but roll her eyes.

“You have to stop,” I say, trying to sound stern but unable to hide the amusement in my tone.

The tour continues, and Talia does no such thing, using her powers to sway an ancient chandelier or flicker a lamp anytime we enter a new room. The poor group of humans is abuzz with excitement and anxiety as the tour guide brings us back to the main entryway, explaining that we're allowed thirty minutes of solo exploring time, adding further rules about what is off limits.

The group of humans break off to explore the grand estate, and the second all eyes are preoccupied, Talia grabs my hand and leads me down a long hallway, climbing over the velvet rope and grinning at me mischievously as she heads toward what I know used to be her room.

Not that I'd ever been allowed in it back then, but I may have slipped her notes through her window a time or two.

“Nowthisis the site of my first fantasy of you,” Talia says as she tugs me into her room, closing the door and locking it behind her.

The room is befitting of any noble vampire daughter, complete with a marble desk, lush golden carpets, an elaborate four-poster bed that had been custom made, the bedding of the time period still situated perfectly atop it.

Lush velvet curtains hug the grand windows across the room that overlook the gardens, and I can’t help but smile at the spotwhere I used to meet her and pass her my letters before dawn would separate us.

Life had seemed so much simpler then, a clear path with a happy future laid out before us.

And now?

Now I lived a great unknown of my own making. But she was here and she was smiling at me, and that's all I can ask for.

“Right there,” she continues, pointing at the bed. “Oh, how I dreamed of the day we'd be married and allowed to fully submit to our cravings and needs,” she continues, her eyes whimsical as she looks at that bed. “Want to make that come true?” she teases, the look she gives me pure mischief.

Just the insinuation of it has my cock hardening beneath the leathers I wear, and I look from her to the bed and back again, calculating.

“I fear if I took you there right now, we'd break that piece of history,” I say.

She sticks out her bottom lip in a fake pout, walking backward and away from me, eyes hooded with lust as her spine hits the wall. She taps it a few times with her palm. “This is a very sturdy wall,” she says, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

In a heartbeat, I'm there, my hand tunneling into her hair to tip her head back as I slant my mouth over her ears. Her lips part, letting me in as I slide my tongue against hers, taking her mouth in sipping kisses as she fists my shirt to draw me closer.

“Tell me more about this fantasy,” I say between kisses, moving my lips from her mouth to the line of her jaw to her neck, relishing the way she goes pliant beneath my touch.

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