“Frankie!” Raluca snapped. “Please. I am your mother.”

“Sorry,” she said, but her tone was less than apologetic.

Retta sighed as she straightened up the flower in the vase Raluca had put on the tray. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I blew it with him a long time ago.”

Francesca shook her head. “You can’t blow it with someone who loves you that much.”

“I daresay you’re wrong. I just wish you guys would let me go home.”

“The Order would be all over you now that they know for a fact you’re real. You can never go home again.”

And she couldn’t stay here. How perfect was this?

Raluca gave her a sympathetic smile. “He loves you, Princess. He’s hurt, but underneath that is the man who went through a fate far worse than death trying to save you. He won’t let something as cold as pride keep you from him.”

“It’s not pride, Raluca. It’s broken trust. How do you repair that?”

“That’s up to you, Princess. You have to show him that you want to stay with him.”

“And how do I do that?”

“You close your office and have Andrei and Viktor bring all of your belongings here.”

“What if he won’t let me?”

“How can he stop you? You’re the Lady Danesti. This home is half yours.”

Retta smiled as she considered that. But in order to stay here, she’d have to give up everything.

No, not give up. So she couldn’t be a divorce lawyer in Romania. She wouldn’t be able to keep up her practice too much longer anyway. Some people were already getting a bit suspicious because she hadn’t aged.

She looked around the stone walls that somehow managed to be warm and inviting. Stay with Velkan…

Somehow that wasn’t nearly as frightening as it had been. But in order to stay, she’d have to reclaim the heart her husband had closed to her. C’mon, Ret, you’re made of sterner stuff than this. And she was, too. She wasn’t going to walk out on him again.

But as Raluca said, she’d have to find some way to show her husband just how serious she was.

5

Velkan ached with a pain that was second only to impalement. His Dark-Hunter powers should have healed him by now… it told him just how severe his injuries had been that he was still hurting from them.

He turned as he heard the door 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.

“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 of his wife. How cruel to be this close to her and to not be allowed to sate the need that burned so furiously inside him.

She finished her food, then moved to retrieve his plate. As she did so, she turned to look at him. It was a mistake.

Unable to stand it, he buried his hand in her soft auburn hair and pulled her closer to him. He expected her to push him away.

She didn’t.

Instead, she met his lips with remarkable passion. It was as if she wanted to devour him.

Velkan growled at her enthusiasm. It’d been the last thing he’d expected from her. But God, how good she tasted. It was the most incredible moment of his life and all he could think of was pulling her naked body flush to his.

Retta couldn’t get enough of him as she folded herself into his arms. At least not until she eagerly brushed her hands against his ribs and felt him cringe from the pain of his injuries. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, pulling back.

But he didn’t let her go far. He pulled her back to him and gave her a kiss so sizzling that it melted her completely. With a teasing laugh, she nibbled his lips. “You’re still hurt.”

“You’re worth a little pain,” he whispered before he buried his lips against her throat.

Retta groaned as chills spread over her, and her body heated up immediately. It’d been way too long since they’d been together. She’d all but forgotten how good this felt. How good Velkan felt. Leaning back, she pulled him with her until his weight was pressing her into the bed. Still his lips didn’t leave her neck as he unbuttoned her shirt. His eyes were dark with hunger as he cupped her breast while his thumb slipped beneath the lace to touch her skin. She shivered at his hot touch as she pulled his shirt from over his head.

His skin was still burnt and angry looking, but even so, she’d never seen anything more exquisite. He was so ripped that she could see the outline of every muscle on his chest. And she remembered the first time she’d seen him naked. He’d been hesitant, afraid of hurting her. And she’d been stunned by the size of him. By the contrast of his masculine body to hers. Where she was soft, he was hard. Where her skin was smooth, his was chafed by battle scars and calluses. And his scent…

It was warm and masculine, all-consuming.

Shivering, she reached around and undid her bra, then let it fall to the floor.

Velkan could barely breathe. He still couldn’t believe she was allowing him to touch her. Not after all the anger she’d spewed. All the insults that had gotten back to him over the centuries. If he were smart, he’d send her packing. But how could he? No matter the anger, he knew the truth.

He still loved her. He still wanted her.

She was everything to him.

And she might change her mind…

That would be too cruel for words. Cruel even for the daughter of Vlad Tepes.

Her eyes dark with longing and passion, she moved from the bed to divest herself of her pants. Velkan thought he was going to die as she reached for her panties. His breath came in short, sharp bursts as she licked her lips, teasing him, exciting him. The tips of her fingers went beneath the black satin fabric.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked as she hesitated while he waited for her to lower that damned skimpy piece of fabric.

What, was she insane? Or just plain cold?

“Hell, no,” he growled.

Smiling, she slowly pulled the panties down her legs until she could step out of them. In that moment, it was a struggle not to come from the sheer pleasure of seeing her naked alone. Damn, but she had the hottest body the gods had ever gifted to a woman. Granted her breasts weren’t very large and her hips were a bit wide, it didn’t matter to him. There was no woman more perfect.