held the glass out, and Terry snatched it from her fingers before he pulled her down to his lap. She sat with a huff, but he nudged her chin up, pressing a soft kiss to the spot on her neck he knew she loved. Then he lifted the glass to her lips.
“Drink.”
She did. He pulled the glass away before he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, tasting the heady sweetness before he captured her mouth. He pulled back, taking a drink himself so his mouth was stained with the rich taste of the blood and wine. Gemma followed the scent, and he saw her fangs descend. She hungered. For him. For blood. He’d give her a taste, but it wasn’t time to slake her thirst just yet.
“Gemma?” His hand ran to the nape of her neck, tugging on the damp hair until he’d taken her lips again.
“Yes?”
“I want…”
Her heart was thumping steadily and it made him grin. “What?” she panted.
Terry pulled back and took a deep breath. “Dinner. You hungry?”
She blinked. “I… what?”
He set her on her feet and gave her bum an affectionate pat. “I’ll just make something light. You relax, luv. Enjoy the wine. That batch really is better. Might have to give the Frenchman a raise.” Then Terry left her stunned and slipped into the galley to poach the fish he’d caught earlier. This was going better than he’d expected.
“ Bon appetit .”
He set the dish down in front of her. It was a light meal consisting of bluefish poached in white wine with some fruit on the side. As a younger vampire, Terry still enjoyed food more than Gemma did, but she did need a bit in her stomach to remain comfortable. Occasionally, he tried to imagine her as human, but he just couldn’t. She was the embodiment of immortal beauty to him. Everything about her screamed ferocious blood-sucking predator. No wonder he was in love.
“Is it all right, Gem?”
She frowned a little, looking at the table. “It’s fine. Thank you, Terry.”
Why’d she gone all quiet and soft? That wasn’t like her at all. “Gobsmacked again, eh? Sorry. I know you don’t like being surprised by my many talents. I’ll try to be more considerate in the future.”
And just like that, her eyes sparked. “I was trying to think of a gentle way to tell you that your French accent sounds like a nineteenth century whore, but there just isn’t one, is there?”
Terry grinned. There she was. “That might tell you where I learned it, luv.”
“I’d say, ‘Do tell.’ But I’d really rather you didn’t.”
“I speak it. That’s all that’s important. Você não acha? ”
He’d forced a smile out of her. “Your Portuguese is rather nice, though.”
“That’s because I like the language more.”
She shook her head and little and tasted the fish. “It’s not always about indulging your own wishes, Terry. France is an important trading partner and if we’re going to continue to cultivate Jean Desmarais as an ally—”
“It’s all about indulging myself on my honeymoon . How’s the fish? Caught it earlier. Thought it might go well with those figs and the new wine.”
“Excellent.” She set her fork down and just looked at him.
“What?”
“You never cook at home.”
“We employ a cook at home. And I’m very busy.” He squirmed a little under her unwavering gaze. “So?”
“You’re a very good cook.”
“I have to be. Someday, I might not be able to afford domestic help, and I have a very demanding wife.”
“That’s so likely, husband .”
Mercy, he wanted to take her on the table right then. He loved calling her his wife. Loved it almost as much as the little curl her lip made when she heard the word. He was such a contrary ass sometimes.
She was still examining him. “We do have an excellent cook at home.”
“We do.”
“Whom you hired yourself.”
He narrowed his eyes. What was she getting at? “Yes…”
She grabbed him and pulled him over the table, licking up the side of his neck as Terry shivered. Then Gemma