Page 34

“Just curious.” Licking her lips, probably subconsciously, Toni continued to stare at his mouth.

“You want to see my fangs?” he asked.

She nodded.

Opening his mouth, Lawrence gave her what she’d asked for, watching her eyes transform from merely curious to something different. Something more. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he guided her finger until she reached inside of her own volition. He ignored his body’s reaction, instead remaining as still as possible in order not to scare her.

“Sharp,” she said, moving from one to the other.

Unable to waste the opportunity, he gently closed his lips around her finger before pulling her hand away from him. As her finger passed his lips, he touched his tongue to it one last time.

Retracting his fangs, he watched intently as her chest rose and fell. He’d love to show her exactly how pleasurable it felt to experience a vampire’s bite in the middle of lovemaking . . .

He could not.

“You should go,” he ground out, hating everything about their situation.

Without another word, she did just that.

He cleaned up after them, leaving the remaining bottle of wine, the most expensive vintage in Stone Haven, in the room.

Toni’s scent clung to everything, and it seemed to follow him on his way out, taunting him. He was a fool for pushing her away and an even bigger fool for allowing himself to begin imagining them together. She’d been single for less than a week, and he hadn’t given her a chance to so much as catch her breath.

Vowing to do so now, Lawrence promised himself he would concentrate on his plans for the bar instead. The bar would be the social centerpiece of his new home.

Home.

He was hit with a cascade of memories as painful as they were insistent. Saw a flash of the head table where he’d broken the news of Alec’s death to his father . . . Heard the wail his chambermaid had made upon learning her brother had been killed, his body uninjured other than two puncture marks in his neck . . . Felt the raw sense of abandonment he’d experienced when his wife, Anna, had refused to leave Bowden Castle when he and his siblings were forced to do so.

They’d been young, neither yet seeing thirty summers, but she was very much human. He’d said everything he could think of to convince her the lines on her face that would appear over time, ones he would not share, meant nothing to him. He had not cared if she aged, but Anna couldn’t do it. She could not watch herself “wither away” as he remained looking like a “handsome young warrior,” as she’d always called him.

And so when they left, she’d decided to stay. He could see her even now standing on the ramparts, her crimson gown the last color he saw as they made their way over the hill that finally hid Bowden Castle from view.

He’d become quite skilled at burying memories of his human life, however, and he did so now as he climbed the hill toward the Addy Hutton Mansion. Kenton stood on the balcony of the father’s mansion, just next door, waving for him to come over.

“Come on over,” Kenton called down. Would he ever become accustomed to working with, rather than against, the former Earl of Rockford?