Page 316 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

He raised his eyebrows, but knew she was right. As much as he'd tried to foster Fox's emotional independence, there was a neediness there that still showed up at times.

“But wait… you said you've never turned anyone. Who turned Fox?”

“Stella.” He couldn't keep the hard note out of his voice. It had been a source of contention between them since the day she had turned Fox.

Kate had raised her eyebrows, waiting for more. He shrugged. “Fox wanted it. I didn't want it for him. Stella gave him what he wanted.”

“Why didn't you want it for him?”

He pressed his lips together. “It's a curse, bambina.”

She stared at him for a long moment and he willed her not to ask more. She took the hint. “So, what did you do in Chicago?”

“I owned a few taverns, and then during prohibition I owned a piece of every speakeasy in town.”

“I thought the Chicago speakeasies were run by Italian mafia. Oh!” she said, clapping her hand over her mouth.

His lips curled into a smile. Once again, he was impressed with her knowledge of history. “How do you think the mafia got so powerful? Vampires can make a lot happen on the seedy side of business.”

“Is that where you killed people?”

He shook his head at her. “Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answers to, cara mia.”

“I didn't.”

He felt hurt from her and cursed inwardly at how sensitive she was. He tried to explain. “The answer is yes. Among other places. But I've tried to leave that way of living behind me. And it may be what you want to know, but I don't especially want you thinking of me that way,” he admitted.

She softened at that. “Okay. I can understand that. But it doesn't make me think less of you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You think it makes me exciting.”

She took offense. “No, I don't.” Her face had flushed.

“The truth, Kate.”

She took some bread from the bread basket and dipped it in the olive oil and balsamic vinegar he had poured onto a plate for them both.

“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged. “So what?”

He shrugged himself. “I don't know. I don't like it. I guess because I don't want to be that person.”

“Well, okay, you're not that person anymore. But it's what's made you who you are today. Right? So if it turns me on, well… you could just go with it, couldn't you?”

He couldn't help but smile at that. He helped himself to the bread. It was warm and melted in his mouth—a delicious sour dough. “Mmm, this is good, isn't it?”

“I know,” Kate said, reaching for another piece. “I shouldn't have it, but I just can't help myself.”

“Why shouldn't you have it?”

“I have a wheat allergy. I break out in a rash on my neck and chest if I eat it too many days in a row.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “So why do you eat it?”

She shrugged. “It tastes good.”

He took a sip of wine and considered. He had taken on a dominant role with her, which she obviously liked. And though he questioned its ultimate benefit to her, there were ways to use it to help her.

“Is this something you'd like help with?”

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