AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her lips twitched. She hid her smile behind the glass of lemonade.
Various people gave their congratulations, preventing Draven and Charlotte from continuing their odd flirtation. She had no doubt it was flirtation. His dark jokes left her giddy, which said more about her character than Draven’s idea of courtship. Plenty about Draven left her giddy. The possessive way he held her as they danced. Even now, he kept his hand on her lower back, whether as a show of possession or just a need to remind her of his presence, she couldn’t say. Either way, she approved.
“How was your wedding reception? Do you feel properly celebrated?”
“It’s overwhelming,” she answered. From the moment she awakened, the day had been a never-ending parade of sights and sounds. The great hall was stark in regards to its architectural style, but it was filled with people, music, and an almost suffocating warmth. Now she danced with the unnaturally beautiful vampire. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed? “No one attempted to murder me, my husband survived, and I was only slightly poisoned. A success, I think.”
Draven laughed, tossing his head back. His laugh was loud and sharp, more tooth than amusement, and it delighted her.
A hush of stunned disbelief fell over the crowd. The music ceased. Conversation stopped.
“I do not know if your standards are tragically low or thrillingly high,” he said.
Charlotte desperately wanted to say something witty, a turn of phrase so sparkling and cutting that the vampire would forever be charmed. Instead, all she managed was, “You’re pretty when you laugh.”
She wanted the floor to open and swallow her. How mortifying.
Draven stepped closer, leaning forward enough to keep their conversation as private as possible. “You think I’m pretty?”
“When you laugh. You should do that more. Also when you don’t laugh. Just pretty in general.” Her face blazed with embarrassment. “Forgive me. That was tactless, and I’m too embarrassed to stop speaking. Why am I still speaking?”
“I think you’re pretty, too. Especially when you blush.”
Somehow her blush intensified enough that she felt she might burst into flames.
“I think perhaps it is time we retire for the evening.”
Charlotte nodded, still blushing and now her stomach was fluttering all peculiar again. Thankfully she said, “Yes,” instead of babbling a reply. “Will the party end if we leave early?”
“They’ll carry on until morning. Worry not,” he said, guiding her to the exit.
The crowd parted for them. Everyone watched them. Everyone knew, or rather speculated, why they left early. A brave few made rather bawdy comments.
Let them say what they will. I’m not ashamed.
Once in the corridor, heavy doors muffled the noise of the celebration, and silence resumed. All Charlotte could hear was the pounding of her heart. In a few minutes, she would be bare before her husband. What would he think of her? He said she was pretty. Would he find the soft rolls of her stomach pretty? What of her legs, which were more sturdy than shapely? She disliked this feeling of self-doubt. Perhaps he’d want her to remain dressed. Lionel had. Oh, she disliked thinking of her former husband even more than she disliked self-doubt, but Lionel’s presence had haunted the entire day.
Too quickly, they arrived at her room. The fire had died long ago in the hearth. A chill hung in the air. Draven tended to the fire and had a blaze going in no time.
“Come warm yourself,” he said.
She rubbed her hands together before holding them before the fire. Draven regarded her quietly, his expression almost fond. She paused, tilting her head in an unspoken question of curiosity.
He stepped closer, brushed back the curls from her forehead, and then cradled the back of her head with his hand.
“Oh, my hair escaped.” She reached up to pat her coiffure. She started that day with her hair neatly swept upward, curls cascading like a crown, but several strands had worked their way free.
He leaned in. The space between them heated. Was she breathing? She couldn’t remember.
“May I kiss my bride?” he asked.
“The poison?”
“I believe the experience will be worth the risk.”
“Then yes, I implore you to kiss your bride.”
Gently, he pulled her toward him until their lips met. His previous kiss had been rough, more teeth than tenderness. The kiss in the chapel had been barely worth mentioning. This…this was stepping outside into the winter storm, being swallowed whole. Consumed. Savored. She wanted him to savor every drop of her.
