Vampire Darcy's Desire

lacks sensibility—too naive—too trusting.”

“Then you think I am jaded?” she asked mockingly.

He kissed the nape of Elizabeth’s neck and behind her ear, feeling the beat of her heart at the base of her neck.“Do not put words in my mouth, my Lady.”

Since they had discovered their need for each other, Darcy had gave given her a world she would never know again. She turned to face him.“Another memorable day.”

“It is not over, Elizabeth.” He leaned her back onto the blanket, looming over her. “I cannot send you home without kissing your lips properly.” He held himself tantalizingly above her, his words a whisper on her cheek.Then he lowered his whole body over hers, pressing his mouth to her own. His tongue parted her lips, and Darcy was lost to the moment. His hands caressed her shoulders, and he rolled with her, positioning her to lie on top of him. Her heat burned his very soul. His hands moved up and down her back. The blood coursed through him—pounding into his senses. Finally, she broke the kiss, burying her head into the side of his neck. Breathing heavily, Darcy rasped her name,“Elizabeth!”

“We cannot let this happen, Fitzwilliam.” She spoke the words while remaining wrapped in his embrace.

Darcy could feel his heart thunder in his chest. He turned to tuck a loose curl behind her ear.“It will not.You must forgive me, Elizabeth. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe this to be real.” He spoke to the ceiling, unable to turn his head and see the disapproval on her face.

Although she knew they must stop, part of her wanted Darcy to

Ahh! She screamed out in pain, cupping the palm of one hand in the other. Blood flowed from a cut across her palm, the result of her hand coming down on the edge of the rapier she had foolishly laid on the floor.

Although not bleeding profusely, the wound lay open and fresh. Darcy scrambled to his knees, and without thinking, he pulled her hand to his mouth and sucked the blood away. It was an innocent action. Yet the moment the blood touched his lips, something inside him changed. He shuddered visibly, and his eyes closed, as if savoring a fine wine. He sucked again, and his eyes glazed over, an icy coldness, the color of snow crystals floating through the air.

Elizabeth watched in horror. “Fitzwilliam!” she cried out in fear, trying to dislodge her hand from his mouth, but he held her fast, his tongue washing over the gap in her skin.“Fitzwilliam!” she demanded, pulling harder, but he kept hold of her. Finally, in desperation, she grabbed the sword and swung the butt of the handle against his face, cutting a gash into his cheek.

Darcy fell back, his fingers releasing her. Elizabeth sprang to her feet, the sword grasped tightly in her hand.Anger filled her, but the remorse she saw spreading across his face made her want to comfort him all the same.

Darcy covered his eyes and face with his forearm. A moan of disgust burst from his lips. He never looked at her, afraid to witness the disdain in her eyes.“Now,” he said, his lips trembling, “now, you see the animal I am.” The hollowness in his voice was nearly as frightening as his actions. “I can never live a normal life.” He lowered his arm to his side. He still lay flat on his back while she remained poised with the sword above him. “Put the sword away, Elizabeth, and tend to your wound. I will injure you no more.” He licked his lips, bringing moisture back to them, but still tasting her lifeline there, making her a part of him.“Leave, Elizabeth.We must not meet again; it is too dangerous.”

Tears ran down her cheeks. “I will not leave you, Fitzwilliam,”

Unable to trust himself any longer, Darcy grabbed her wrist, pulling them both to their feet. “Bloody hell, Elizabeth! I cannot do this! I will kill myself rather than hurt you!” He grabbed her cloak and violently shoved it around her shoulders. “Do not return.” He placed his handkerchief into the palm of her hand to stop the bleeding. Then he carried her to the back door. “It ends today; I cannot have the life we created here! Fate dealt me a different hand, and I must play those cards.” Bitterness laced his words.

Elizabeth fought him every step of the way, beating her hands forcefully against his chest. “No!” she screamed repeatedly, but when he tugged the door open with one hand and pushed her out the entrance with the other, she quit fighting. Her sudden stillness forced him to react, and Darcy froze. No trace of his temptress remained. Instead, she stood there miserably, with tears dangling from her thick lashes. They stood in a terrible tableau, muscles flexed for action. Her words were barely audible, but he heard them nonetheless. “I do not want to leave you, Fitzwilliam. You need me—whether you like it or not—you need me.”

“I need no one!” his voice boomed in defiance.

Elizabeth shook her head. “That is where you are wrong, Mr. Darcy. You never needed anyone, and this moment—this very moment—is where it has gotten you.You may deceive yourself; but you cannot deceive me.”With that, she stormed off down the path.

“Damn!” She heard the curse as she strode away from him, followed closely by the dramatic slamming of the manor house door. Despite the histrionics of the last few minutes, she smiled with the knowledge that Fitzwilliam Darcy had no idea what he just started—with a fatalistic certainty, she knew this was not the end.

“Elizabeth, where have you been?” Jane called out as Elizabeth came through the door. Elizabeth hid Darcy’s handkerchief in her pocket before she entered the house.

“Nowhere in particular,” she assured her family. “I went for a walk. I slipped and fell on a sharp stone and cut my hand. It took me a few minutes to stop the bleeding.”

Mr. Bennet looked up in concern.“You staunched the wound, Child?”

Elizabeth nodded to reassure him.“I cleaned it as best I could, but if you will excuse me, I will go to my room and wash it thoroughly.”

She had started away when her mother added,“You have a letter from your Aunt Gardiner on the table by the door.”

“Thank you, Mama. I will return shortly.” She grabbed the letter and bounded up the stairs.

Tossing both her cloak and the letter on the bed, Elizabeth poured water into a nearby bowl.Taking the soap from the tray, she began to wash the wound completely. Although the blood had stopped long ago, the feel of his mouth remained. Her eyes inspected the opening, looking for evidence of his perversion, but she saw none—only the cut. She took the handkerchief from her pocket and placed it in the soapy water to soak.