Corbin stood quietly, letting me think,which I doubt any human man would have done. But that’s a vamp foryou—they have unlimited time, which usually equates to greater thanhuman patience. In this case, I was glad of the difference.
“All right,” I said finally and steppedthrough the door.
The room I entered appeared to be a bedroom,and it surprised me by not being an obvious “sex lair” like the onewe’d found Taylor in. There were no slick satin sheets or sex toys.Instead, it actually looked like a room where someone lived andspent time—if you can call what vampires do living.
There was a large brass bed covered in adark green and gold bedspread against one wall and a fireplaceopposite it against the other wall. There was already a small firegoing in the grate—its flames were reflected in an old fashionedfull-length mirror that stood in a golden claw-footed frame in thefar corner of the room. Angled to face the fires was a large brownleather easy chair and beside it stood a tall wooden bookcasefilled with all kinds of books.
I walked over to the shelf as Corbin shut usinto the room and studied his private library. I was tryingdesperately not to think about how we were now locked in togetherbut despite my nervousness, a few of his books caught my eye.
There were a lot of things I would haveexpected to see on any guy’s night table—some Clancy novels,histories of different wars, mostly by Shelby Foote. There werealso books in French, Spanish, and possibly Japanese, which Icouldn’t read. Hmm, Corbin was well read at least. Being an Englishmajor, that was definitely on my wish list for Mr. Right—too bad hewasn’t human and I couldn’t stand him. Besides the novels and theforeign language books, there were a few volumes so old I wasafraid to touch them—was that really a first edition ofTamerlane?
“Amazing,” I murmured, daring to trace thespine of the book with a single finger.
“A fine work by a tormented man.” Corbin wassuddenly standing right behind me.
I looked up at him. “You knew Edgar AllanPoe?”
He shrugged. “In passing. I knew one whoconsidered bringing him over. Unfortunately, his mental illnessnear the end was such that it was feared he would be toodestructive if he became one of my kind.”
“But think how much more he could havewritten,” I breathed. “Maybe your, uh, friend should have taken therisk.”
“Maybe. It is a difficult decision—there isa fine line between genius and madness.”
I looked farther down the bookcase and foundsomething that topped even Tamerlane. It was a tatteredpaperback book with a picture of a bare-chested muscular man in akilt with fangs. At his feet was a woman who was falling out of herlow cut dress. I had known that there was a proliferation ofvampire romance novels ever since the fanged set had come outpublicly about ten years before, but I had never dreamed that areal, self-respecting vampire would read them. Especially afour-star vamp like Corbin.
I looked up at him. “Uh…Immortal HighlandLover? Seriously?”
He smiled. “I read it for comedic effect.The historical inaccuracies amuse me. As well as the way thewriters always assume a vampire would keep his accent forcenturies.”
“Doesn’t he?” I asked, frowning.
Corbin shook his head. “Maybe if he or shewas able to stay in their country of origin. But in the era I wasbrought over, the need to keep moving, or be suspected of what onewas, made that impossible. By the time I was a century old I hadbeen around the globe twice and spoke twelve different languages.The accent is one of the first things to go.”
“Can you still use it if you want to?” Iasked curiously.
He grinned. “That I can, lassie, an’ ye wishit.” His brogue was so thick and startling that I started laughing.Corbin laughed with me and before I knew it the book was back onthe shelf and I was in his arms. “You’re beautiful when you laugh,”he murmured. There was still just a touch of an accent in his deepvoice.
I looked up at him. His body was big andhard in all the right places against mine and I couldn’t help theway my heart started to race when he was so close to me. He’sthe enemy, I reminded myself sternly. A vampire’s a vampire,no matter how charming he is.
“Don’t do that,” Corbin whispered, lookinginto my eyes. “Don’t talk yourself out of feeling for me.”
I frowned. “How do you know what I wasthinking? Are you trying to glam me?”
He looked frustrated. “No. I’m trying tomake you care for me. But it appears to be an uphill battle.”
I shrugged. “Those are the breaks. Maybe youshould have fallen for someone who hasn’t seen what vamps cando—how violent and destructive they can be. Or maybe you shouldjust glam some other woman into thinking she loves you.”
He frowned. “Is that what you think I want?A false love? A woman who only thinks she cares for me because Imanipulated her mind?”
“It’s what a lot of vamps seem to want,” Ipointed out. I had seen it more than once—a human so enslaved byglam-sex that they would literally do anything for the vamp who wassupplying them. No crack head in the world has anything on aglam-addict.
“I see it is useless to try and change yourmind.” Corbin let me go abruptly. “Therefore, let us commence yourpunishment.” His eyes were hard and every trace of the thick accenthe’d used earlier was gone. I felt like a cold wind had sweptthrough the room, taking away the warmth that had been momentarilybetween us and replacing it with chilly civility. But please, likeI wanted to have warm fuzzies over a vampire?
“Fine.” I lifted my chin. “You said no sexand no spanking. So what are you going to do to me?”
Corbin settled into the brown leather chainand steepled his long fingers. “To begin with, I will watch youdisrobe.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “You’reserious? You want me to strip for you?”
“Exactly.”
“God.” I ran a hand through my hair, whichwas beginning to come down out of the tight
