“It is. Do you have information for me?”
“I have a question for ye’, fire-starter.”
“What is it?” He rubbed his bleary eyes.
“Do ye’ know where yer woman is?”
Chapter Sixteen
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Beatrice chanted, punctuating each utterance with a quick kick to the side of the small room where she had been stashed. The four walls seemed to close in on her with each passing hour. She glanced at the fading light through the porthole.
She guessed that she was on a freighter of some kind, after being snatched from the streets of Mayfair while shopping on Thursday morning. Now it was nearing Thursday evening, from the look of the sun, and she braced herself for her inevitable appointment.
It just figured that the one time she left Gemma and Terry’s house without her guard was the day she would be kidnapped.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
She just couldn’t stand the idea of the rough-looking thug they’d hired to tail her during the day following her to the lingerie shop on Conduit Street.
Beatrice had been shaken by her argument with Giovanni the night before. She’d thought they’d been doing well, and her trust in him had been growing each night they spent together. When his frustration boiled over, she had been unprepared.
Not that she wasn’t frustrated, too.
He was right-she was attracted to him; that had never changed. And it was maddening to sleep next to him every night and morning knowing how he felt about her. Knowing that he wanted her. Knowing that making love to him would be amazing. She’d certainly had a taste of his passion during the infrequent feedings they shared. He never seemed to take much, but just the touch of his lips at her neck sent her shuddering toward release.
But Beatrice had held back, not wanting their physical attraction to overwhelm what she knew was the most important part of their relationship. She still needed to trust him.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she chanted as angry tears gathered in her eyes.
In the dim light of morning, when she’d finally removed her rumpled dress, she forced herself to confront her feelings for the vampire she shared a bed with every night.
She sat next to him in her robe, stroking his face before she rolled him over and removed his jacket. Her hands pressed against the iron weight of his chest, and she lifted his muscular arms to pull it off.
This immortal being that slept next to her every night was almost unimaginably powerful. His hands could snap her like a twig if he wanted. Even more, one simple touch from him could render her malleable to any whim he could imagine. Yet, Giovanni knew how she feared mental manipulation and had always restrained himself.
He was waiting for her. He had been waiting for months. He had never wavered in his promise not to leave her again, and he had done everything in his power to make himself a permanent fixture in her life.
She pulled his shoes off and set them at the foot of the bed before she leaned over to remove his tie. He purposely made it crooked so she would fix it. Such a small, human thing. He did it purely for her attention.
“Because I love you, Jacopo,” she whispered.
Beatrice felt tears on her face as the walls she had carefully constructed for the past five years fell, and she finally let herself imagine a future with Giovanni. Could she give up the life she knew to join him? Even more, could she imagine a future without him?
She curled next to him in bed, wishing for the sun to fall faster so he could be with her again. She lay next to him and considered trying to wake him but decided it would just be frustrating. She had tried more than once to rouse him during the afternoon to give him some important message, only to be disappointed when he had no memory of it when he woke.
And now, she sat in the bowels of the creaking ship, banging her head against the wall.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
They must have used chloroform or something similar, because she hardly remembered anything besides thick arms and something soft covering her nose and mouth. Then she’d woken in the swaying boat, alone and unharmed, which probably meant she was due for a visitor as soon as the sun set.
She stood up, pacing the room and trying to imagine any form of escape. There had to be something. There had to be someone. Someone she could plead with. Someone she could bribe. Someone who…
Her attention was drawn to the porthole. The sky was deep blue, and the setting sun turned the clouds gold.
In the distance, she could see land, closer than she would have expected for such a large ship, but then, she really didn’t know much about boats. She stopped pacing and started jogging in place, trying to loosen her stiff muscles and think.
Beatrice muttered to herself, “No way in hell am I spending another month of my life under this sick bastard’s control.”
She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, which dispelled some of the fear she’d felt five years before and gave her renewed confidence. No doubt the humans he had guarding her were under orders not to harm her either. She walked to the small bathroom in the corner of the room, relieved herself, and prepared to do everything possible to make keeping her a major annoyance.
She jumped up and down, doing as many of her warm-up exercises as she could in the limited amount of space. She mentally ran through the throws she had learned in her judo class, the hits and kicks she had learned from Gemma, and tried to quiet her mind the way Tenzin had always advised her. She hoped one of the humans had guns; she might be able to steal one.
As the sky darkened, she realized that the possibility of avoiding a vampire was probably non-existent. She sat on the bed, closed her eyes, and listened for the approaching footsteps. In the back of her mind, she realized that Giovanni would be waking soon. He would realize she was gone, but would he have any idea where she had been taken?
Beatrice heard footsteps coming toward her room. She could tell it was more than one person, but she couldn’t tell how many. The door swung open, but she remained on the bed, trying her best to look calm. A young, dark- haired vampire of medium build walked in and looked around, only glancing at her as his eyes swept the room. He was completely unremarkable except for the twin fangs she could see in his mouth. He murmured something over his shoulder in a low voice. She had noticed Giovanni and Carwyn using the same tone when they didn’t want her to hear something.
With some ceremony that was probably meant to frighten her, Lorenzo swept into the room. His blond curls were shorter than she remembered, and his Botticelli face bore the smudges of healing scars around his mouth and left eye. He was still wearing the ridiculous white wardrobe he had favored in Greece, though he was dressed for the colder winter weather of Northern Europe.
“Beatrice, my dear, it has been too long,” he said as he looked down his nose.
“You look like a ski bunny. Nice sweater.”
“Ah!” his face brightened. “You have regained your delightful sense of humor. Excellent. You were so dreadfully dull when we parted in Greece.”
“You mean when your dad came and spanked your ass with his two friends? Yeah, that was awesome. Nice scars. You getting a
