Page 36 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

I stared at him, blinked, then burst into laughter. “That’s a joke. You just…” I laughed harder. He was so serious. I’d never seen anything of the sort. But it was a joke. A good one at that. “Zola told you, didn’t she?”

“Told him what?” came Zola’s feminine, smoky voice. There was a blur as a body materialized beside me.

I jumped slightly, still unused to their quick movements.

“Told him about my skewed understanding of vampire abilities.”

“I might have let a few things slip.”

“Zola!” My rebuke was half-hearted. I set to work, positioning everything around my cutting board.

“What is this, Vittorio? You’re putting her to work? Does our fearless leader know?”

“She asked.” Vittorio offered Zola a meaningful look before turning away to continue his work.

“I did. I was bored.”

“Well, let’s go figure out what you’re wearing tonight. That won’t be boring. I’ve already selected several gowns.”

My chopping stopped. “Vittorio was being serious? I have to dress up for this thing?”

“Of course! When Laurent calls for a dinner party, it’s a very serious matter.”

I guarded my distaste, instead saying, “Well, I want to help Vittorio first⁠—“

“I haven’t need of it,” he called from somewhere in the pantry.

“Yes, you do!” I called back.

“Oh, very well.” Zola sighed. “When you’re finished, come to my room. There is time yet. We have until eight p.m.”

I glanced at the clock. It was only four thirty. Wow. Vittorio was really getting a head start. Then I considered the kind of meal he was preparing.

“I’ll come find you later,” I assured her.

“Very good, darling.” She disappeared.

I continued my cutting: four different types of lettuce, baby tomatoes, cucumber, red onion. Everything was placed in separate bowls so that Vittorio could build each salad individually. After that, I worked on yellow onions, celery, and carrots for the soup. Those were also placed in bowls beside the others, until I had a nice display for my efforts.

I had just moved on to the asparagus, trimming the ends for our main course, when the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I knew without looking exactly who stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

I didn’t like that. Knowing. Having this strange sense of his presence. An awareness that left my thoughts jumbled and my blood heated.

“Master Laurent?” Vittorio looked up from his work.

“What’s she doing here?” Laurent’s voice was flat, the question making my hackles rise. I refused to look in his direction.

“She wished to assist, sire.”

“And she knows what she’s doing?” His voice held an equal measure of surprise and doubt. A direct contrast to his usual emptiness.

Angry heat washed my cheeks. “Spoiled party girls are perfectly capable of wielding knives,” I snapped under my breath, resuming my chopping with perhaps a touch more aggression than necessary. I wondered how much—despite my comment earlier—it would hurt if I plunged it straight into Laurent’s chest. Maybe it wouldn’t kill him, but damn, it would still be worth it.

Footsteps sounded, crisp and clipped on the kitchen tile floor. I kept my face forward, ignoring him as he came up behind me. So close, I could smell the clean scent pouring off him. So close, that if I backed up a single step, our bodies would be pressed flush together.

An arm shot out around me, brushing mine in the process. My entire body tensed on high alert. His sleeve was rolled to his elbow, showing off a beautiful forearm with ropy veins beneath his skin. I forced my gaze away as he snatched up a cucumber medallion from the bowl. I didn’t dare turn as he placed it in his mouth. But I heard the muted sounds of his chewing. I felt the unnecessary exhale of his breath near my hair. It sent shivers racing across my scalp.

“Delicious,” he purred, lips brushing my ear.