“I’m sorry, Ildaria. You lost everything. It must have felt like the end of the world,” G.G. said softly.
Ildaria shrugged as she set the items she’d collected on the island in front of him. She was not going to feel sorry for herself.She never did that, and muttered, “I did it to myself. Obviously, I didn’t learn from my mother’s mistakes. I just had torebel and go to the bar.”
“Bloody hell, do not tell me you have been blaming yourself for all of this for the last two hundred years?” he exclaimedwith dismay.
“If I hadn’t gone to the bar and drank—”
“If your mother hadn’t been an alcoholic slut jumping from one bed to the other,” he interrupted, shocking her into silenceso that he continued. “Or if her last boyfriend hadn’t molested you and killed her. Or if Juan had just saved you and walkedyou home rather than sexually assault you himself . . .” He paused, glaring at her. “That’s what you should be saying. Youdidn’t bring any of those things on yourself, and the small part you played by accompanying your friends to the bar wherean older brother was going to look out for you was something every kid does at some point, and you were the kid,” he reminded her firmly. “You were a fourteen-year-old girl. A child, and you were only four when you were firstmolested. Do you blame yourself for that too?”
“No, of course not,” she said at once. “Mostly I don’t even think about that part of my history.”
“But it and the attack ten years later are the reason you lack experience with sex,” he said quietly.
Ildaria blinked several times, and then sighed with defeat as she recalled that had been the point of this talk. Explainingher lack of experience while not being a virgin. “Si.”
“And why you haven’t really been . . . assertive in the shared dreams, but have left me to lead,” he suggested.
She nodded, and then smiled crookedly and pointed out, “Although I’m pretty sure I am the one who put myself naked in a bedand chained to it in the English room of the Night Club. You looked pretty shocked when you turned and saw me like that.”
“Yes. I was,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I was also surprised when your wrists were suddenly looselater.”
“I wanted to touch you,” she admitted simply.
G.G. nodded, but then asked wearily, “What are we going to do about this?”
Ildaria stiffened warily. “About the dreams?”
“About my being a possible life mate for you,” he corrected.
She stared at him briefly, and then turned and grabbed a large plate and started to move the still warm muffins from the muffinpan to the plate before she said, “That is up to you.”
“But what do you want?”
“I would like you to agree to be my life mate,” she said stiffly.
“Even if I refuse to turn?” he asked.
Ildaria let out a slow breath. At least, he hadn’t refused outright to be her life mate, or gone running screaming from the room at the idea, as Marguerite had feared. Turning, she carried the plate of muffins to the island and set it in front of him before meeting his gaze. “Si.”
G.G. considered her briefly, and she could almost see the cogs turning in his head. She had no idea what he was thinking though.
“Okay,” he said finally.
Ildaria stared at him uncertainly. “Okay?”
“Okay, I would like to be your life mate,” he explained gently.
Ildaria beamed at him, feeling like she’d just won the lottery. She had a life mate.
“But,” he added, and her smile faltered. “You need to accept that I won’t agree to the turn. Ever. I’m happy having one life,Ildaria. I don’t want to drink blood to survive.”
Ildaria merely nodded. It was no more than she’d expected, and she could deal with that. It would be hard to watch him ageand die, of course, but she wasn’t the first immortal with a life mate who refused to turn and she could deal with it. She’dhave him at least for a while, Ildaria told herself and simply said, “I suspected that would be the case. I accept.”
G.G.’s eyebrows rose. “That easily? No trying to convince me? No argument?”
She shrugged. “One piece of cake in your life is better than never having any.”
That surprised a short laugh out of him. “Did you just call me cake?”
“Maybe,” she said with a small smile. “Although it probably should have been beefcake.”
They shared a smile and then he grabbed a muffin off the plate and moved it to his own. As he cut and buttered the muffin,he said, “I think we should go slow for now.”
“Slow?” she asked, moving back to begin putting fresh paper muffin cups in the now empty muffin pan.
“I think we should go on dates, get to know each other better . . . but stick to dream sex for now,” he suggested.
Ildaria continued what she was doing, finishing off with the paper muffin cups and then switching to filling them, but hermind was working. If he thought they could do that, he didn’t know as much about immortals as she’d thought. At least, notabout life mates. Resisting each other would be damned near impossible.
“I know it will be hard,” G.G. added, when she didn’t comment. “We’ll have to be careful, but I think if we avoid touchingeach other—”
“Why?” she interrupted, finally turning to look at him.
He paused with his muffin halfway to his mouth, and lowered it slightly before admitting, “Because I don’t think you’re readyfor the real thing yet.”
“But—”
“And I’m mortal. My parts don’t grow back if you have a flashback, panic and bite anything off me.”
G.G. had spoken in a teasing tone, but she didn’t think he was really joking. He was worried about how she would react duringreal sex. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised since she’d just told him she’d bit off Juan’s penis.
A sigh
