AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And that’s not going to happen if Darcy and I don’t stay focused.
Wiggling my fingers at my sister, I hurry after Darcy, letting myself into the shadowed greenhouse and tiptoeing through the humid, jasmine-scented air. From what I can see in the dim light, the space looks as grand and glorious as the rest of the Blackmore estate. The amateur gardener in me wishes I had time to snoop and sniff my way around the large room, but someone has to keep their eye on the ball around here.
I push through the doors leading from the greenhouse into the mansion, emerging into a wide hallway.
To my right is more hallway. To my left, is the elegant central staircase.
Following my gut, I head up the stairs.
Annie and I were given a tour of the mansion a few weeks ago, but I was still too antsy around vampires to pay much attention to anything except watching Annie’s neck as we were led from room to room, trailed by vampires who kept sniffing the air around us like we were a plateful of yummy twin pastries. I can’t remember much about the layout, but if I were Darcy’s office, I’d be on the second or third floor, tucked away from the bustle of the main part of the house.
My footsteps nearly silent on the thick carpet, I pad down the hall to the left at the top of the stairs, finding two empty sitting rooms and several locked doors without a sound coming from behind them. Darcy is quiet, but not that quiet—even vampires breathe every now and then.
Retracing my steps, I head right at the top of the staircase instead.
About halfway down the long passage, I catch a faint, rhythmic clinking sound and trail it to the last door on the right. I press my ear to the wood, straining for some confirmation that it’s Darcy behind there, but there’s no sound aside from the clinks and an occasional huff of breath that could be coming from anyone.
But most of the other vampires who live here are out on the patio enjoying the reception. Only family or family stand-ins were allowed in the chapel, but the afterparty was open to the entire clan and the Blackmore vamps seem to love a party.
And what’s the worst that happens here? I interrupt the wrong vampire and have to make a break for the stairs when he or she decides now would be a good time to chomp on my yummy witch neck?
I’ve already accepted defensive vampire maneuvers as a part of my new reality, and it’s one I’m more prepared for than usual after tucking that stake into my purse at the end of the ceremony…
Thanking my past self for her petty theft, I open the door a crack and peek inside.
I would usually knock—I wasn’t raised in a barn—but if this isn’t Darcy, I’d rather not disturb whoever’s clinking away in there. I have no idea what they’re doing to make a sound like that, and I’m quickly learning that paranormal creatures get up to a lot of shady stuff they’d rather keep secret.
But the sight that greets my curious gaze is about as far from a dark, creepy, vampire lair as you can get. The room is enormous, open, brightly lit, and filled with weightlifting equipment.
And there, in the corner to my left, is a shirtless Darcy bench pressing a gazillion pounds.
Literally. A gazillion. Maybe a gazillion and one.
My jaw drops but before I can sort out which is more shocking—the fact that he can lift that much weight without being crushed like a bug, or the fact that my knees are wobbly after a single glance at his insanely muscled chest—he growls, “Get in here. Now.”
Shockingly, I obey without a single smartass remark or suggestion that he should fuck right off.
But that’s the problem. I don’t want Darcy to fuck right off.
I want Darcy to fuck…me.
Which is a very serious, very stupid problem. Annie may have bought the “we’re nice vampires now” thing hook, line, and sinker, but I know better. Even before Janet pounced on me like a toddler at snack time, I could sense how thin the Blackmore’s veneer of humanity truly was. These creatures are our predators, not logical potential mates.
They aren’t even safe candidates for a friends-with-benefits situation. Getting naked with a vampire is a no good, very bad, likely-to-end-in-blood-loss proposition. I should get out of here, leave Darcy to his sexy, half-dressed sweating and hook up with him again when we’re both fully clothed and my knees aren’t soft in the middle.
But do I close the door and make a dash for the stairs?
No…
No, I do not.
I step inside, shut the door behind me, and drift across the room to Darcy, a part of me already certain this is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.
Chapter Eleven
Darcy
She shouldn’t be here.
