as she stared down at his towel. What could he say to make that hurt go away? He didn’t know what was upsetting her. Perhaps discovering that would be a good starting point.
“What are you thinking?”
Her gaze crept back up to his and then she turned her face away and stared at the floor off to his right, exposing the smooth column of her throat to his hungry eyes.
“Javier... was it just the heat of the moment... or do you... do you feel something for me too?”
Javier couldn’t breathe. She stole it away with the confirmation that he wasn’t the only one who harboured feelings beyond lust and desire for the person opposite him. He stared at her, hungry to touch her again and prove to her that what had happened hadn’t been because of the show. It was because he loved her. He had fought it so hard, had done all he could to hold back his need for her and his desire, but in the end his struggle had been in vain. There was no going back now.
She closed her eyes when he touched her cheek and he sighed when she leaned into the caress, her skin warming his palm.
“I have wanted you forever,” he whispered and her eyes slowly opened and shyly met his. He frowned. “Lilah... do you know where your master is?”
The warmth in her eyes flickered and died, replaced by a cold abyss and darkness that surprised him. He hoped that her master was outside the range at which he could sense her. It was a slim chance but it was all that he had.
“The bastard isn’t in London, that’s for sure,” she snapped and glared at him, her expression as black as midnight. Javier felt as though he was looking at a different person. Gone was his beautiful rose, replaced by a thorny thistle. Her loathing and anger flowed into him through his hand on her face. It obliterated the sweetness of her blood and turned the scent of it bitter. “My skin crawls whenever he’s nearby.”
Javier frowned at her, shocked by her tone. Most owned humans were deferential to their masters, obedient and grateful for the beneficial effects of their blood. Lord Ashville’s blood in her body granted Lilah protection against most diseases and slowed her aging.
He stroked her cheek and some of the darkness in her eyes lifted. “Do you hate your master, Lilah?”
“I never asked to be his. He gave me no choice in the matter. Isn’t he supposed to give me a choice?” Lilah looked away, shame burning her cheeks, heating his palm. Tears lined her dark lashes, threatening to slip and fall onto his hand. His heart ached for her and her suffering. Lord Ashville had bonded with her against her will. It was unheard of in vampire society. A human had to enter willingly into the contract with their vampire master.
Javier slid his hand around the back of her neck and drew her to him. She fell against his bare chest, her head in the curve of his neck with her forehead brushing his throat and her hands pressing into his pectorals. Bliss. He had never experienced such euphoria. He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes, savouring the feel of her in his embrace and the warmth of her against him.
Would she have ever asked to be anyone’s?
Would she have ever consented to be his?
“Javier... is it different if I’m acting against my master... if I choose to sleep with you?” she whispered and it felt as though she had heard the questions in his heart, as if it had spoken them to hers and she had voiced her answer to them. He held her closer to him, breathing her in, making the most of this stolen moment with her.
He had lived six centuries in this world and had never found anyone like Lilah. She was a little piece of Heaven in his arms, brought colour to his world and turned it into a paradise. Even if their time together was only this night, it had been worth waiting six hundred years for.
Lilah drew back, her hands still against his chest, burning his skin with their soft touch, and looked up into his eyes. “If he doesn’t have enough power