“I was talking about you, pet.” He nosed my hair away from my neck so he could kiss it.
I melted against him. We’d been on our best behavior for far too long. I couldn’t stand another minute of resisting him. Craning my neck to get a better look at him, I bit my lower lip.
“Is that an invitation?” he asked darkly.
“Um-hmm.” I nodded. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from baiting him now that we were alone. “I feel terrible to have ruined your surprise.”
“Surprise?” he repeated, sounding confused. But what I meant caught up with him before he’d finished speaking. He groaned. “I’m sorry for that debacle. Jacqueline is, well, Jacqueline.”
“How illuminating.” I laughed. “She seems nice. She wants to go shopping.”
Julian’s eyes widened for a second, but then he relaxed. “That seems like a good idea. She’ll be better at that than I would be.”
“Then I should go?” I was still a bit confused by their dynamic.
“Jacqueline is important to me,” he said, swiftly adding, “not romantically. She is my oldest friend, and she has put up with my shit better than anyone I’ve ever known. I would like her to get to know you.”
“Why?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.
But he showed no sign of annoyance that I questioned him. “Because you are also important to me.”
His words–or rather, the way he said them–caught me off guard.
“And you’ll need things to wear. You didn’t pack enough clothes,” he added.
I was pretty sure he meant that I didn’t pack the right clothes.
“Then I’ll go.”
“This afternoon” he said firmly. “There’s an event you need to attend in the evening.”
“With you?” I asked slowly.
“No, this event is only for females,” he said casually. “The Salon du Rouge. You’ll be expected to attend. I’m sure Jacqueline will go with you.”
“Okay.” I had about a million more questions about this female-only event. I was here to pass as Julian’s girlfriend, stay at his side, and basically act as an amulet to ward off overeager familiars. It seemed silly to attend events by myself, unless…
Unless Julian was beginning to see me as part of his world. A thrill shot through me, but I tamped it down before it could spread its vicious deceit all the way to my heart. That wasn’t how this worked. We had an understanding. We had boundaries. I’d come to Paris knowing that, and I couldn’t waste the moments I had with him, hoping for an unpromised future.
My stomach growled, shattering the blissful moment.
“You’re hungry,” Julian said, starting to pull away, but I caught his hand.
“No, I’m not.” I was ravenous. My body was clearly confused as to what time it was or when I was supposed to eat. But I wasn’t ready for this moment to be over. It was too perfect.
“Liar,” he accused in an amused murmur. He planted kisses along my shoulder, nudging the robe to give him more access to my skin. “It’s my job to care for you. Let me.”
My breath hitched as he spoke. He had been attentive since the moment we met, even when that attention was coupled with annoyance or frustration. But now it had a new partner. There was a tenderness I hadn’t heard before when he spoke and something else that didn’t match the Julian Rousseaux I had known before:
Tentativeness.
But why? What on earth did a nine-hundred-year-old vampire have to be uncertain about?
Regardless, I had not flown all the way to Paris to lose an opportunity like this. I twisted in his arms, hooking an arm around his neck, and dragged his lips to mine. Julian groaned but didn’t resist. Instead, he slid his hands past my robe and grabbed the fleshy part of my hips. His fingernails dug into my skin, nipping at it with their sharpness, and my eyes flew open.
I pulled away, waiting for him to realize his mistake, but he didn’t. “Julian, your gloves…”
“Yes?” His eyebrow curved into a question mark. “Would you like me to put them back on?”
“N-n-no,” I stammered. My brain scrambled for any clue–any moment to latch on to–that would explain this sudden change of heart. “I just thought…”
But I didn’t know what I thought, because this was all happening so fast.
“I wanted to feel your skin on mine,” he explained softly. “I told you before that we wear gloves to protect others. Our nails are quite sharp.”
“I know,” I teased him softly. His grip on my hips loosened a little.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes shadowed with concern. “If you would like me to stop…”
“What’s a little pain mixed with pleasure?” I reached down and covered his hand with mine through my robe. “Don’t stop.”
“There’s another reason we cover our hands, pet,” he explained softly. “Our magic rests there, or what’s left of it.”
“Magic?” I repeated. “So when you say familiars are witches…”
“Magic is real,” he said with a smile, “but it is complicated. Very little magic remains in most vampire bloodlines. It’s why we have the Rites. Witch blood strengthens our bloodlines.”
“Like an infusion?” I asked. It was a little hard to concentrate with his bare skin on mine. He was warmer than I’d expected him to be. I wondered how it would feel if his hands slipped farther down between my legs.
