open.
It was Esperetta , and there for a second he was back five hundred years ago when they'd
shared this room together, when she had willingly joined him here every night.
Once he'd reclaimed this house after his death, he'd taken great pains in making her room
down the hall look just as it had when she'd lived here. But though her personal items were
there, she'd never really used it for anything other than dressing. In contradiction to the
customs of their time, she'd shared this room with him for sleeping… and for other things the
memory of which warmed him completely.
Wincing, he could still imagine the way her scent had clung to his sheets and pillows…
The way it had clung to his skin.
Be strong, Velkan . He had to be. The last thing he wanted was to let her hurt him any more
than she already had.
She came forward a bit hesitantly before she set the tray down on the table by his bed. Her
long hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she looked extremely tired. And yet she
managed to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. "Do you still prefer your steak
served with onions and stewed apples?"
Her question surprised him. He couldn't believe that she'd remembered that. Nodding, he
watched as she pulled the silver top off the platter and then uncovered the onions.
"Are you not eating?" he asked as she handed him the plate.
"I'll just take some of the bread. I'm not really hungry."
He shook his head at her. "Bring the bread plate and split this with me."
"You need it."
"I will live and I can send for more. Now bring me the plate."
She arched a brow at his sharp tone.
"Please," he added, softening his voice.
Retta paused at that. This was a man who was used to issuing commands. To her
knowledge, he'd never even uttered "please" before. Her heart softening, she picked up the
plate and did as he asked.
"Thank you," she said as he halved his food with her. "By the way, I have a bone to pick with
you."
"Only one?"
She smiled in spite of herself. "At the moment."
"Then I can't wait to hear it," he said before tasting his steak.
"'Bram' and 'Stoker'?"
He laughed, a deep, resonant sound. "It was fitting, I thought."
Retta growled at him. But she didn't mention her room, which she'd seen the night of her
arrival. It had been an eerie reminder of their past, and it had brought home to her just how
much Velkan loved her. Even if he denied it, she knew the truth. Everything had been laid out
as if he'd expected her to return at any moment.
When she'd seen it, she'd actually sat down on the floor and wept over her own stupidity.
Forcing that thought away, she cleared her throat. "Did you have to give that man that awful
book about my father?"
He shrugged those broad shoulders before he wiped his mouth. "I was stationed in London
at the time and bored. He'd been working on the book and had been calling the lead
character Radu —which, no offense to your uncle, isn't nearly as compelling as Vlad Dracula.
Besides, it's not my fault the book took off. It would have been forgotten completely if not for
the movie decades later."
She narrowed her eyes on him suspiciously. "I heard you had a hand in that, too."
"That is a rumor of which I'm quite innocent."
"Uh-huh." Even so, she wasn't really angry at him. At least not now. A century ago, she'd
wanted to cleave his head from his shoulders, but strangely, now that she was here, she felt
an odd kind of peace. It was so bizarre.
He set his plate aside.
"You're not through, are you?"
"I'm not really hungry."
The only problem was that she was starving… and it wasn't for food. What she really wanted
a taste of was that delectable mouth of his. He was sinful and decadent. He'd always been
that way, and it had been so long since she'd last had a kiss, Velkan could barely focus as
his body burned for a taste from his wife. How cruel to be this close to her and to not be
allowed to sate the need that burned so furiously inside
It was Esperetta , and there for a second he was back five hundred years ago when they'd
shared this room together, when she had willingly joined him here every night.
Once he'd reclaimed this house after his death, he'd taken great pains in making her room
down the hall look just as it had when she'd lived here. But though her personal items were
there, she'd never really used it for anything other than dressing. In contradiction to the
customs of their time, she'd shared this room with him for sleeping… and for other things the
memory of which warmed him completely.
Wincing, he could still imagine the way her scent had clung to his sheets and pillows…
The way it had clung to his skin.
Be strong, Velkan . He had to be. The last thing he wanted was to let her hurt him any more
than she already had.
She came forward a bit hesitantly before she set the tray down on the table by his bed. Her
long hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she looked extremely tired. And yet she
managed to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. "Do you still prefer your steak
served with onions and stewed apples?"
Her question surprised him. He couldn't believe that she'd remembered that. Nodding, he
watched as she pulled the silver top off the platter and then uncovered the onions.
"Are you not eating?" he asked as she handed him the plate.
"I'll just take some of the bread. I'm not really hungry."
He shook his head at her. "Bring the bread plate and split this with me."
"You need it."
"I will live and I can send for more. Now bring me the plate."
She arched a brow at his sharp tone.
"Please," he added, softening his voice.
Retta paused at that. This was a man who was used to issuing commands. To her
knowledge, he'd never even uttered "please" before. Her heart softening, she picked up the
plate and did as he asked.
"Thank you," she said as he halved his food with her. "By the way, I have a bone to pick with
you."
"Only one?"
She smiled in spite of herself. "At the moment."
"Then I can't wait to hear it," he said before tasting his steak.
"'Bram' and 'Stoker'?"
He laughed, a deep, resonant sound. "It was fitting, I thought."
Retta growled at him. But she didn't mention her room, which she'd seen the night of her
arrival. It had been an eerie reminder of their past, and it had brought home to her just how
much Velkan loved her. Even if he denied it, she knew the truth. Everything had been laid out
as if he'd expected her to return at any moment.
When she'd seen it, she'd actually sat down on the floor and wept over her own stupidity.
Forcing that thought away, she cleared her throat. "Did you have to give that man that awful
book about my father?"
He shrugged those broad shoulders before he wiped his mouth. "I was stationed in London
at the time and bored. He'd been working on the book and had been calling the lead
character Radu —which, no offense to your uncle, isn't nearly as compelling as Vlad Dracula.
Besides, it's not my fault the book took off. It would have been forgotten completely if not for
the movie decades later."
She narrowed her eyes on him suspiciously. "I heard you had a hand in that, too."
"That is a rumor of which I'm quite innocent."
"Uh-huh." Even so, she wasn't really angry at him. At least not now. A century ago, she'd
wanted to cleave his head from his shoulders, but strangely, now that she was here, she felt
an odd kind of peace. It was so bizarre.
He set his plate aside.
"You're not through, are you?"
"I'm not really hungry."
The only problem was that she was starving… and it wasn't for food. What she really wanted
a taste of was that delectable mouth of his. He was sinful and decadent. He'd always been
that way, and it had been so long since she'd last had a kiss, Velkan could barely focus as
his body burned for a taste from his wife. How cruel to be this close to her and to not be
allowed to sate the need that burned so furiously inside
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