A Vampire's Paramour

~ 13 ~

"You look stunning." The girl who always joins Irene whispers to me. She chooses not to share her name, and Irene doesn't press the issue. I give her thanks for spinning me on the podium to see all areas of myself. The dress clings like a second skin, and wow, do I look good.

"The Duke won't be able to keep his hands off you," Irene mumbles more to herself than me. I, unlike what my inner demons want, do not want him to touch me. I'd rather burn at the stake than admit I'm any part attracted to that man, "But I doubt you'd let him."

"You know me so well for only two days," I mutter. She flashes a fake glare my way. The other woman leaves the room in a hushed rush, leaving only Irene. "Is the Duke like this with all his employees?"

Her hands pause over my skirt, "Why do you ask?" I tilt my head down to look at her. She's still, too still. She seems almost ghost-like with the way her face has paled, "I've said too much, Lady Evelyn. I should go. You look great. His grace will be by soon to walk you to dinner."

Wait! I wanted to scream, but she's already rushing from the room before I stretch my hand out. Bella is tucked away in her dog space, awaiting the handler, but even she tilts her scruffy head at the door. Irene tends to give her goodbye pats, and Bella is upset she's forgotten. Without hesitation, I glide over to my doggo. No matter what I'm wearing or doing, I'll never be above a dog cuddle. She comes to the edge of her area wagging her butt while I scratch behind her ear, trying to piece together any possible string of information. Does Irene think I'm his beloved?

It's simply hilarious to think such things. If I were his beloved, I'd be swept from the floor and locked away. He's the type to never let his woman out of his sight, let alone employ her against her will. "You seem to think you know a lot about me." His voice carries from the door. My dog yips in excitement at the sight. She's a sucker for that mongrel, especially when he releases his claws just a tad for belly scratches. I'm almost jealous that in the two days I've been here, she's already decided a Duke is better than her dog mother.

"Are you always ominous and brooding? Ever considered knocking like a normal person? Or clearing your throat before speaking?" I snip walking away from Bella. I can't believe I was speaking aloud again. I absolutely need to get that under control before my sexual fantasies spew from my mouth. That'll really boost his ego. Victor's hands close slowly, then open. His eyes seem more wild than usual. Ignore.

"And have you considered locking your chamber door? What if someone walks in while you're changing?" He grunts through clamped teeth. I don't know where he's coming from, or why he's suddenly so tight-lipped about something so simple.

"Not like it would stop a bloodsucker." I give him a sweet smile, his own temper simmering at the sight. His body towers over mine. Without my heels, he holds a much different aura standing above me, "You aren't anything like I've read."

"And you are nothing like I imagined." He takes a step back, a deep sigh leaving, "The handler is here. Let's go down, I had them make one of your favorites."

"How do you know my favorites?" The vampire pauses, his eyes tracing over the confused lines of my face. The handler disrupts us, knocking with a loud thump, then letting himself in with a well-loved leash hanging from his hands. The handler slowly walks themselves to the pen where Bella is spinning in violent circles, waiting for her handler. A new trick she's learned, I suppose. My head snaps back to Victor. His jaw is set, no apparent intention of telling me just how much he knows about me, "You are infuriating."

"At least get a better insult, darling." His gloved hand goes to my back, leading me from the room with the handler behind us. When I mentioned to Irene that I could walk my own dog, she scoffed. She's afraid the mutt will ruin my dresses. Bella has just as much fun running behind me with the handler begging her to calm down. She's yipping and growling through her own little conversation. Victor gracefully leads me down the staircase, then into a grand dining hall. Oh my.

"You had them make pizza?" I can't help the excitement in my tone, or the way I pull from him to jump at my seat. No matter how he came to know my favorite food, it's such a sweet thing that I almost cry at the sight. Screw you, Victor DeMoro. I've made sure that my emotions have stayed in check over the past two days. I attempted to keep myself together and show just how strong I can be, a viper, as my mother called me, but now, looking at my comfort food, things start to break a little.

We've discussed his plans, his goals, and his wants; I've let myself get swept away by distractions, including Irene, the handler, the ladies in the kitchen, and especially the Duke. 

I'm not going home. 

This isn't a vacation with friends or at college. I'll have to adapt to the blood suckers, this role, and my new expectations in life. Oh, goodness, why am I allowing myself to feel this way? Unlike any other time, Victor says nothing at all. I'm allowed to take deep breaths, keep my back to him, and try to rein in the foreign emotions attempting to overwhelm my already tired heart.

"Are you alright?" From the corner of my eye, I can see his hand outstretched, then, like before, fall back into himself like he's catching a potential mistake.

"Never better." I choke out. Instead of thanking him for the comfort food, the lovely dresses, or even the cute little setup in the corner of the room where my dog enjoys toys and food, I said, "Let's get this over with."