I hated that there was some truth in what she’d said. But I wouldn’t renounce my compassion. Never.
27
THROUGH LONDON
Alex
The flavour of the few drops of Irene’s blood lingered on my tongue after I’d tasted it. I’d spent a restless night, thinking about her parted lips, flushed cheeks, and soft breathing while I’d healed her cut. Healing her had been an unplanned decision, which I almost regretted. She’d had no idea the healing would have been so arousing. And I’d had no idea how healing her would affect me.
I couldn’t hold her hand without being sick, but I made her moan with my vampire powers.
My butler tossed me nervous glances as I waited for her in the entrance hall, pacing. I’d been selfish with Irene. My desire to touch her had been so strong that I hadn’t hesitated to offer my help, but I hadn’t considered the consequences for her.
I’d also hoped she would trust me after what we’d shared. Or maybe I was the only one in turmoil after the healing. Maybe she had already forgotten about yesterday.
My train of thought derailed when Irene came down the stairs. She looked stunning in a lilac-blue gown with a matching hat and a white underskirt; the fabric reminded me of sea foam.
Her cheeks flushed when our gazes met.
Perhaps she hadn’t forgotten.
My mouth grew dry, and being a vampire had nothing to do with that. “You look lovely.”
She brightened. “Myrtha has an extraordinary wardrobe.”
“We shall arrange one for you.”
Her radiance dimmed. “After we’re certain I’m not going to fade.”
“It won’t ever happen.” Determination steeled my voice.
The butler bowed as we left the house. Thick clouds shielded the sun, for which I was grateful. I didn’t want Irene to witness my discomfort in the sunlight.
I opened the carriage door for her, and she paused, a foot on the step, glancing at my hand before moving on. I didn’t offer her my hand. I wanted to, but the thought made me gag, and throwing up in front of her wasn’t my idea of impressing her.
She sat in front of me in a froth of lilac-blue fabric, looking like a mermaid. Her wili power added a translucent quality to her porcelain skin, absolutely mesmerising. Myrtha’s skin was the same, but the effect on Irene was like a kick in the bollocks. In a very good way…if such a thing existed.
I rubbed my forehead, struggling to make sense of my thoughts. Two minutes with her and my brain went barmy.
She shifted, and I had to move as well, not to touch her legs.
I cleared my throat. “We’ll visit one of my informants first.”
“Who?”
“Mrs. Talbot. Clever sleuth. She’s a low-power witch, married to a policeman.”
The carriage jerked, and she moved again, inching closer to me. I slid onto the seat to find myself cornered. The familiarchoking sensation rose in my chest. It didn’t matter that Irene was the one cornering me. The fear of her pressing against me overwhelmed my own desire.
“You don’t want to touch me, do you? Not even by accident.” She sat at the other end, giving me more space.
“It’s complicated.”
“Yesterday…” As she blushed, the rich, flowery scent of her blood thickened, driving me mad.
“I shouldn’t have done that. You had no idea what would happen.”
Judging by how she stiffened, I’d said something wrong.
