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I avert my eyes, refusing to succumb to whatever pull there is between us. He’s still my captor. “Perhaps you should lay off the alcohol if that’s how you act,” I say, peering out of the corner of my eye at him.
He compresses his lips. The dimples in his cheeks explode and my knees weaken at the sight. He’s so handsome, and I hate that I think so. Especially in this moment.
“You have my word, Marina. No more whisky.”
He continues walking past the gardens and toward the back of the property.
“Where are we going?” I ask, not really caring, as this is giving me a tour of the property and a better sense of how to get the hell off it.
“This is my father’s house,” he says, motioning behind us at the palatial estate, not much smaller than a castle. “My house is just beyond that hill. I thought I’d take you there.”
I want to ask him why, but the more I know the better.
It isn’t long before I’m so caught up in the beauty surrounding me that I quickly forget about my mission and take it all in. The lush landscape and vibrant colors of the flowers create a visual masterpiece. Hydrangea bushes of every color line the walkway, while beautiful pink and white roses stretch out in front of me where the sidewalk splits. The limbs of a large weeping willow tree hang loosely above the garden of roses, right at the center of where the cobblestone walkway splits. The grounds are spectacular, but the manor in the distance is truly a sight to behold.
“It’s beautiful,” I say under my breath.
It is. It’s truly magnificent. It looks like something out of an old Hollywood movie. The closer we get, the more impressive it is. No detail was spared in the design. The entire front of the stately white house consists of two wraparound porches, one on the ground level and the other on the second story. The need to sip lemonade in a rocking chair on the porch grips me. There is so much to look at. Between the sweeping magnolia trees and the line of rose bushes set in front of the porch, the scenery is something out of a fairy tale.
Nothing about this place screams evil. In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s bright and cheery; it looks like a home. I chance a glance in Julian’s direction. He’s wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and a pair of pressed black pants. Sweat drips from his brow.
“You a little warm?” I ask, gesturing to his clothes.
“Indeed. It is a bit warm today.”
“Should you even be in the sun?” I can’t help but put a little bite into my words.
He smirks. The bastard has the audacity to practically laugh at me.
“Not all folklore about vampires is true, Marina,” he scoffs. “I can be in the indirect sun, if I take precautions.”
“Sunscreen?” I ask, curious as to what he could possibly do to avoid spontaneously bursting into flames.On second thought, fire away!
“Something like that,” he chuckles. “I’ll experience a bit of displeasure later, but it’s worth it.”
“Good. You deserve displeasure,” I say, sounding more like a spoiled brat than a victim who has every right to wish ill on her captor.
“I do,” he agrees, and it only manages to piss me off. I want a fight. I don’t want this easygoing Julian. It’s a front and it only confuses me.
“Don’t do that,” I bark, turning toward him. “Don’t act repentant. I’m not buying it. I might be out here with you, but it’sonlybecause I couldn’t bear those walls for another minute.”
He blows out a harsh breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Marina. But I thought we could try for one day to be cordial.”
“Could you do it?” I ask, and his brow rises in confusion.
“Do what?”
“Play nice with the person single-handedly ruining your life?”
He flexes his fists at his side, appearing to be seconds away from losing his patience with me, but I stand tall and await his response. I won’t bow down. I won’t cower.
“I’ve allowed you to be angry.”
I bark out a laugh. “Allowed?”
“Let me finish,” he snaps. “I’ve allowed you to be angry because you have every right to be. I’ve taken the brunt of that anger, because I understand that you need to let it out on someone. But I’m the wrong person, Marina.”
I laugh, but it’s completely without humor. The actual gall of this creature is more than I can handle.
