Page 117 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

“Of course, sire. Shall I clean up a bit while you eat?”

Laurent glanced around his room. His expression darkened. “No. I’ll get it later.”

I could practically feel Vittorio’s desperation. “Laurie. Just let him. Look how happy it will make him.”

Laurent scoffed. “Fine. Have it your way. But—leave the books.”

“Very good, sire.”

Laurent lifted me into his arms and strode forward. He settled me on his lap at the table.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, eyes darting toward Vittorio.

“Eat, little flower. You’ll need your strength today.”

“Because you can’t wait to sink your teeth into me?” I taunted.

There came a choked sound from across the room.

“Well, you’ve officially scandalized poor Vittorio. And yes, naturally I cannot wait. But I will. No, you’ll need your strength because I have other plans for you.”

Something hot curled low in my abdomen. The variables in our equation kept shifting—attraction plus trust minus fear, multiplied by an unknown factor I couldn’t quite solve for yet. “Like… Sex plans?”

This time, a muttered curse sounded. Laurent’s lips twitched. “You’re the one who insisted on tidying up.”

I bit my lip and our eyes met. The same idea seemed to flash between us as I said, “I enjoyed what you did with your fingers last night.”

“And I enjoyed the sounds you made when I did it.”

“Fucking hell,” Vittorio growled. “Fine, clean your own damn mess. You’re both making my ears bleed.”

Laurie and I remained locked in a silent battle. Then we burst into laughter. I hunched over in his arms, tears leaking from my eyes. “Oh, God. Poor Vittorio.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, his face transformed. I’d never seen him like this. I drank in the sight of him, memorizing it.

“I think we scarred him for life,” I gasped between giggles.

“He will recover.” Laurie scrubbed a hand over his face, turning serious. His thumb brushed over my lips. “You’re fun, little flower. Unexpectedly so. I haven’t felt this alive in centuries. Being around you…”

I exploded with warmth.

“Hmm. I’m going to enjoy having you with me in Italy this season.” His head titled, thoughtful. “And every season thereafter.”

My throat closed up. I tried to think of something to say. Something about how he’d change his mind. How in the end, no one ever wanted to keep me forever.

“Stop that,” he demanded, pressing his thumb firmly against my lips. “No sadness, no feeling sorry for yourself, and no doubt. You will be with me, do not fear.”

I swallowed, then changed the subject. “Are you going to tell me what you have planned for today?”

“Eat. I will tell you.”

I took my first bite while he explained what he had in mind. “I want you prepared when we reach Italy. The other houses will see you as either a weapon to steal or a weakness to exploit. You must be able to protect yourself—and to use what you are to our advantage.” His plans included Hassan for self defense training and several of the others to hone my voice control. As he spoke, he picked at the tray of eggs, bacon, and toast. Sometimes, he’d snatch my wrist mid bite, steering it toward his mouth instead.

I didn’t tell him how erotic it felt to hold the fork that fed him. Or that these moments between us were doing something to me. Making me feel things for him—deeper things beyond lust and hunger. I’d learned long, long ago to avoid attachments, especially when stuff felt too good to be true.

I wanted to believe I could pull back, that I’d learned to protect my heart better than this. That I could stop myself from feeling something deeper before it was too late—before he had the chance to decide I wasn’t worth keeping. But the truth was, he’d pushed me off the cliff when I’d spotted that golden bundle in a pink bow. And I hadn’t realized how deep the bottom of the ravine was. I was still falling, and the truth was, I didn’t want to catch myself.

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