Read The Vampire Who Loved Me for Free Online Page A

stolen his soul Julian remained frozen forever in the first potent flush of manhood.
    The snow had finally stopped. The muted glow of the streetlamps veiled his eyes and cast sinister shadows beneath his high cheekbones.
    “Where are you taking me?” she demanded.
    “To your carriage.”
    “I don’t have a carriage. It was rented and the driver refused to linger in this neighborhood after dark.”
    “Which would make him far more intelligent than you, would it not?”
    “You can insult me all you like, but I have no intention of storming off in a huff.”
    “Then I’ll take you where you belong,” he said shortly. “Home.”
    She dug in her heels, bringing them both to an abrupt halt. “I can’t let you do that.”
    He swung around to face her. “Why not?”
    She opened her mouth, but hesitated a heartbeat too long.
    He held up a hand. “Wait. Let me guess. I’m probably no longer welcome in my brother’s household. After all, what father in his right mind would want me lurking around his helpless child?” He snorted. “Adrian would probably run me through with one of Caroline’s parasols before I could open my arms and croon, ‘Come here, Eloisa, and meet your Uncle Julian. My, what a pretty little neck you have!’”
    “So you did get the letter Caroline sent when Eloisa was born!” Portia said accusingly. “Why didn’t you ever reply?”
    He shrugged. “Perhaps I did. You know the post can be notoriously unreliable.”
    She narrowed her eyes, suspecting that it wasn’t the post that was notorious or unreliable. “Well, it was quite thoughtless of you to leave us wondering about your whereabouts for so long. For all we knew, you could have been—”
    “Undead?” he offered when she hesitated. Inresponse to her chiding glance, he sighed. “If you won’t allow me to escort you home, then how would you suggest I dispose of you? Should I just drop you off at the next gambling hell we come to?”
    Portia slipped on her bonnet and knotted its satin ribbons in a jaunty bow beneath her chin, knowing she would need all of the courage it could provide. “I was hoping I could accompany you to your lodgings.”
    All traces of humor vanished from Julian’s face, leaving it as cool and polished as a mask. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that would be advisable. Since you found your way here, I’m going to assume that you’ll be equally adept at finding your way home.” He sketched her a crisp bow. “Good night, Miss Cabot. Give my brother and his family my fondest regards.”
    He turned and started to stride away as if he had every intention of leaving her standing all alone on that street corner, still wrapped in the warm tobacco-and-spice scented folds of his coat.
    “If you won’t take me to your lodgings,” she called after him, “I’ll simply follow you.”
    Julian swung around. As he came stridingback toward her, his face set in ruthless lines, Portia had to resist the overwhelming urge to go stumbling backward.
    He stopped a scant foot from her, his dark eyes blazing. “First you come barging into the seediest of gambling hells like you’re bloody Queen Elizabeth. Then you volunteer to accompany a man like me—no, a monster like me—to his lodgings? Have you no care for your reputation, woman? For your very life?”
    “It’s not my life that concerns me at the moment. It’s yours.”
    “I don’t have a life, sweetheart. Only an existence.”
    “Which could be rapidly drawing to an end if you don’t at least listen to what I have to say.”
    He swore in fluent French. Portia lifted her chin, refusing to blush. She had heard far more colorful oaths from Adrian’s lips, most of those in English.
    A man went stumbling past them, reeking of unwashed flesh and cheap gin. As the stranger’s greedy gaze raked over the ample swell of Portia’s breasts, Julian bared his teeth and growled, the primal sound lifting every hair on her nape. The man lurched into a clumsy trot,barely