Page 30 of Desperately Seeking Vampire
For some reason, the fact that he could have suffered for so long but still had a sense of humor warmed my heart. I knew then that I was a goner. I wasn’t going to spend my life with him in a mild form of lust and enjoyment of his presence—I was head over heels in love with him.
“That mark is the ability to read my mind?”
“More that we can share thoughts. I assumed, when you did not respond to any of my attempts to reach you, that for some reason we were denied that connection, but I take it you have heard some of my comments to you?”
“I’m not sure,” I said slowly. “Can you do it now? Or does it have to be a special time?”
He was silent for a moment.
I shook my head. “Sorry, if you were broadcasting, my receiver didn’t pick up.”
“Ah. Perhaps it is as I speculated, and we will simply not be able to share that connection. It may be that by being so long in the state of noctambul, I lost that ability.” He took my hand, his fingers warm on mine. “I will do what I can to make up for that shortfall.”
“You don’t have to make up for anything,” I told him, leaning over to give him a kiss before pulling out onto the street. “Where are we going?”
Ivo was silent for a few seconds before answering. “The castle.”
“To see your friends?” I asked. “Or to go to your room and make hot, sweaty bunny love?”
He froze for a second, then slowly turned his head to look at me with eyes that were a dark sage. “Is bunny love some modern term for lovemaking so profound that you won’t be able to walk for at least three hours?”
“Oh, goddess, yes,” I said, taking one hand off the steering wheel to fan myself. “Three hours, Ivo?”
“Possibly four if I get my second wind,” he said, then leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.
But the smile on the corners of his lips was still there.
And my mind was filled with all sorts of thoughts that had me rolling down the window on the drive back to his temporary home.
SEVEN
“A cartomancer.” Christian looked thoughtfully at Minerva when Ivo had explained the situation with her employer, in hopes that he might have a suggestion for ways to deal with the strongmen.
“I would simply remove them from her vicinity,” Ivo had told them both when they settled into Christian’s study. Minerva had chosen to sit on a leather love seat, which pleased Ivo since it allowed him to sit next to her in close contact. His arm was draped casually over her shoulders, and to his further delight, she leaned into him, placing a hand on his thigh. “But whoever sent those two might well send more.”
Christian nodded, and then studied Minerva. “A cartomancer can do more than just read tarot cards, can they not?”
“Sure. Any cards will do,” she answered. “Why?”
“You said that your employer had a strong reaction to them. Could it be something about the cards themselves that are problematic?”
“I doubt it.” She gestured to where she’d set her deck of cards on a small table next to her. “They’re just cards. I like these because of the pictures on them, but there’s nothing special about them other than that. They’re beat-up, and have been taped and glued back together over the years, but they’re comfortable.”
“Would you mind doing a reading for me?” Christian asked, looking inscrutable.
“Not at all.” Minerva waited until Ivo pulled the table around to sit in front of her; then she shuffled and cut the deck several times before laying out five cards, and going through them while Christian watched closely.
Ivo heard nothing remarkable in the reading; it seemed to simply be a warning that he needed to practice patience, and that to rush forward into action would lead to folly—in other words, common sense—but when she was done, Christian nodded and gestured toward the cards.
“Do it again, please.”
“Again?” Minerva gave a little shake of her head as she gathered up her cards and shuffled them. “I don’t normally like to do that. Some people ask me to do a second reading if they don’t like what I tell them, but—”
“Don’t do a reading for me. Do one for yourself,” Christian interrupted.
“Why her?” Ivo was driven to ask. He felt mildly itchy that Christian thought he could give orders to his Beloved, but he reminded himself that not only was he a reasonable man without a shred of jealousy in his body; Minerva and he had sought out Christian’s assistance.
But if Christian thought he could simply boss Minerva around, he would be forced to fisticuffs to show his host that only he had that right.
