A Hunger Like No Other

10

Is your blouse Azzedine Alaia?' the girl showing them to their table asked Emma.

She answered, 'No, you could say it's very authentic vintage.'

Lachlain didn't care what it was; she'd never wear that damned unfinished shirt in public again.

The bow that swayed low across her slim back as she glided along was like a magnet for the gazes of every male in this place. Lachlain knew they were imagining untying it. Because he himself was. More than one man elbowed a friend and murmured that she was 'hot,' earning a killing look from Lachlain.

It wasn't only the men who openly stared at her as they passed. The women looked at her clothes with envy and remarked to each other that she dressed 'cool.'

Then more than a few of them eyed him with blatant invitation.

In the past, he might have enjoyed the attention, possibly accepted an invitation or two. Now he found their interest vaguely insulting. As if he'd choose any of them over the creature he followed so closely!

Ah, but he liked that the vampire noted their looks as well.

At the table, Emma paused, as if to make a last show of resistance, but he seized her elbow and assisted her into the booth.

When the girl left, Emma sat with her back stiff, arms over her chest, refusing to look at him. A waiter walked by with a sizzling plate of food and she rolled her eyes.

'Could you eat it?' he asked. 'If you had to?' He'd begun to wonder if it was possible, and now prayed it was.

'Yes.'

In an incredulous tone, he asked, 'Why do you no'?'

She faced him with an arched eyebrow. 'Can you drink blood?'

'Point taken,' he said evenly, though he was disappointed. Lachlain loved food, loved the ritual of sharing meals. When he wasn't starving he savored it, and like all Lykae, he never failed to appreciate it. Now it hit him that he would never share a meal with her, never drink wine with her. What would she do at functions within the clan —?

He stopped himself. What was he thinking? He would never hurt them by bringing her to their gatherings.

She finally leaned back, clearly resigned to sitting there, giving a polite expression to the boy who briefly appeared to pour them water.

She tilted her head at the glass, as if wondering what would be the best course of action with it, then exhaled a long, wearied breath.

'Why are you always so tired?'

'Why do you ask so many questions?'

So she got braver in public? As if these humans would stop him from doing anything he wanted. 'If you drank as recently as Monday and you haven't a mark on your body—I would've seen it—then what is the condition you spoke of?'

She drummed her nails on the table. 'And that would be yet another question.'

Her answer sounded distant as a thought arose, a thought so abhorrent he fought it. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, and shook his head slowly as it hit him.

Oh, Christ, no. Was she with child? No, it couldn't be. The rumors had it that vampire women were infertile. Of course, the rumors had it that there weren't supposed to be any female vampires left whatsoever. But here she was.

What else could it be?

Not one, but two vampires under his care, in his home, delivered like a blight among his people. And some leech was going to want them back.

All the tension he'd felt during his long, crazed day came back redoubled. 'Are you with—'

The waiter appeared just then, and Lachlain rushed through ordering, having never glanced at the menus he shoved into the man's hands, sending him away.

She gaped. 'I can't believe you ordered me food!'

He waved her statement away, asking, 'You're with bairn, are you no'?'

She tensed when the boy returned to refill her water glass, then frowned at Lachlain. 'You switched our glasses?' she whispered when they were alone again. 'I never saw you!'

'Aye, and I'll do the plates as well,' he explained quickly. 'But—'

'So I just pretend to eat?' she asked. 'Then eat a lot for me. Okay? Because I would have a good appetite—'

'Are—you—with—bairn?'

She sucked in a breath as though scandalized, then said in a rush. 'No! I haven't ev—Um, I haven't even a boyfriend.'

'Boyfriend? You mean lover?'

She blushed. 'I refuse to speak with you about my love life.'

Relief flooded him. The day for him turned just like that. 'So you doona have one.' He liked the small sound of frustration she made—especially since it came instead of a denial. No current lover, no vampire bairn. Only him and her. And when he claimed her, he would do it so hard and so long that she wouldn't be able to recall another before him.

'Didn't I just refuse to talk to you about this? Do you have a talent for ignoring my wishes?' To herself, she mumbled, 'I swear, sometimes I feel like I'm getting punk'd.'

'You want a lover though, do you no'? Your little body's greedy for one.'

Her lips parted in shocked silence. 'Y-you speak so bluntly just to provoke me. You like embarrassing me.' She gave him a measuring look that gave him the feeling she was making mental tallies of every time.

'I could satisfy you.' Reaching under the table, he snaked his hand up under her long skirt, touching her inner thigh, making her jump back in her seat. He found it amusing about her that she could be surprised, even shocked, so easily when most immortals developed a blasé attitude about everything. He supposed she was right—he did enjoy embarrassing her.

'Remove your hand,' she said between gritted teeth.

When he rubbed his hand higher, circling his thumb over her soft skin, instant heat shot through him and he grew hard for her for the hundredth time this night. Her eyes darted around the room.

'Do you want a lover? I ken you canna lie, so if you tell me you doona, I'll remove my hand.'

'Stop this…' She was blushing furiously. An immortal who blushed at every turn. Incredible.

'Do you want a man in your bed?' he murmured, his thumb stroking higher until he found the silk she wore. He hissed in a breath.

'Fine!' she said in a strangled tone. 'I'll tell you. I do want one. But it'll never be you.'

'Why no' me?'

'I-I've heard about your kind. I know that you get mindless and savage, scratching and biting like animals —'

'What's wrong with that?' When she made that frustrated sound again, he said, 'It's the females that scratch and do most of the biting as well. Should no' be so new for you, vampire.'

At that, her face grew cold. 'The next man I take into my bed will accept me for what I am and won't look at me with disgust just for the way I'm forced to survive. I want a man who goes out of his way to make me comfortable and content instead of the opposite. Which means you've disqualified yourself from the competition from night one.'

She didn't understand, he thought as he slowly drew his hand away. Fate had settled them like this. He was stuck with her. Which meant there'd be no other competitors for either of them ever again.

Once Lachlain had stopped groping her under the table and the food arrived, he started his slow, sensuous