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My awareness of him ratcheted up every second of that elevator ride until we finally reached the top floor and the doors opened. It couldn’t have taken longer than two minutes, but it felt like forever.
I got out of that elevator as quickly as I could, pulling my arm out of his while I smoothed down my skirt for something to do with my hands other than grab onto his silky lapel and kiss him again.
“Are you all right?” he asked, following me into the large room with the stunning view of the city. There was a couch right in front of it, a large couch that two people could easily lay on while enjoying the view and kissing. Was I blushing yet? This was so awkward, and there was another elevator ride right there, and then probably a car ride. All of those enclosed spaces would no doubt be as alarming as the elevator.
I walked over to the window and pressed my palm against the cool glass, trying to rein in my galloping heart. I took a deep, steady breath, then another before I turned to him. He was standing very still, watching me with dark blue eyes from across the room, but it felt like I could reach out and touch him and that he could close that distance in one step.
“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” I said, fiddling with my cuffs.
“Are you worried that I’ll attack you again?”
I should be, but no, I was more worried that I’d attack him. “No,” I finally said and started walking towards him.
He watched me come, eyes never leaving mine for a moment. “I suppose it must be difficult for you to consider the possibility of a relationship. Sultry was talking about your apartment, how it’s designed for one person, one chair, one bed, and many books. Take your time, Miss Morell. There is nothing terminal in a relationship. People enter them, then exit as often as they stay.”
“You’ve had a lot of experience leaving relationships? I haven’t thought of that. It must be easy for you to let people close and then push them away when you change your mind.”
He smiled slightly. “Are you more worried that I’ll decide to keep you, or that I’ll move on?”
“Both options are terrifying. So, this is probably a bad idea.” I gestured at the space between us.
He tilted his head while he studied me. “I believe that the things we fear should be faced. Nightmares are only nightmares if you’re running, letting fear control you, don’t you think? Once you’ve conquered dating, you won’t fear it nearly as much.”
I frowned and walked past him to the elevator and pushed the button. “Or I’ll know that I was right to be wary. Either way, I apologize for my sensitivity.”
“Sensitivity?” he asked, following me into the elevator. He was too close, and the doors closed, leaving him smelling like jasmine and oranges. I should have put on perfume. Why didn’t Anna tell me to put on perfume? Oh, right, because she hadn’t dated as long as I’d known her.
Just because she watched dating shows with Gabby didn’t mean that she had the slightest idea what happened in real life, not that there was much real life vampire dating. Maybe someone blogged about it. I could start one if I wasn’t concerned about staying off the radar. He wanted me to explain about my sensitivity. What could I say? I suppose I could try the truth.
“My awareness of you is heightened after the other day.”
His eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed as he studied me thoughtfully. “It isn’t a relationship that worries you, but…” He cleared his throat and said, “I have been puzzled by something. You are Montaine’s daughter, but you can’t always afford sushi or help your friend with her daughter’s tuition. Why is that?”
“I don’t like notoriety.”
“You could claim your inheritance privately. I have several excellent lawyers that you could use if you’d like.”
“I have a lawyer, but it’s not that simple.” Cross was an excellent lawyer, politician, almost as good at persuading as he was at killing things. Everyone had to have a hobby or two.
“Ah. Forgive my intrusion.”
At least talking helped me not think about kissing him. Yes, why was the Montaine heir penniless? Because the estate had been left in Mother Mercy’s care and distributed to worthy causes before I turned eighteen. There was an estate somewhere with my name on it that hadn’t been legally sellable, but liquid assets were gone. I’d already been angry and gotten over it. There was more to life than money, particularly when you were an assassin with aims at retiring to become the keeper of sacred texts, but Mother Mercy had hired someone else for that instead of me, because I was far too good at what I did to be retired.
Cross had wanted to go on a killing spree for me, starting with the new book keeper and ending with Mother Mercy. You had to appreciate elf loyalty once they decided you were family. Even if there were liquid assets, Mother Mercy would be notified that the heir was alive and cognizant and claiming her inheritance. I didn’t want to be owned by her anymore, no matter how just the cause.
That was the last serious relationship I’d been in, in a dysfunctional family of assassins, Mother Mercy’s best weapon, to be used and used again. It wasn’t dating, but it was possession, and vampires were notoriously possessive. I glanced suspiciously at the Scholar. Was he really capable of being in a casual relationship? I probably wasn’t. The whole thing was bewildering. I needed to stop thinking and just enjoy the experience as much as possible.
The elevator doors opened into the lush dark apartment, and I started for the door.
“It’s out through the garden, Miss Morell,” he said, brushing my arm with his hand in what may have been a gesture of direction, but ended up being lightning and fireflies and a flashback of hospital floors and fangless kisses.
I froze and then turned, heading stiffly towards the wall of windows and the garden beyond. It was dark outside, even with the softly glowing orbs that floated slowly around the garden.
“Why did you have plants all around your bed?” I asked suddenly. Yes, talking about his bed was a brilliant way to dispel any awkwardness.
“I like plants. This way, if you would,” he said, opening the French doors wide and walking through. It smelled like jasmine and oranges, which made sense because there was jasmine, and oranges, blood oranges with white jasmine blossoms twining around the branches.
We walked down a path between rows of orange trees and jasmine, with the waterfall at the end of the enclosing bower. It was stunningly romantic, probably. I should hold his hand and look up at him while sighing audibly. The whole thing was so ludicrous.
