Accidentally Married to…a Vampire?(Accidentally Yours #2)(18)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

After Helena had caught her breath and splashed cold water—not nearly cold enough—on her face, she attempted to go find him. But instead she found the giant Slavic beast—Tomas?—at her door, with a gaze so icy he could freeze a penguin’s patooty. That took the wind from her libido-sails.

She’d spent the rest of the day unpacking, watching television, and trying to avoid confronting the reality of her situation. But she’d never ventured outside the room where the scary blond man stood motionless.

Would Niccolo ever return? Damn him. Why did he leave her alone? Perhaps she was a terrible kisser and his eyes were like mood rings that turned black when a science-dork touched him?

Ugh! Stop it, Helena. There has to be a rational explanation. He wouldn’t bring you all the way here, buy you a home, save your life…just to dump you after one kiss.

Helena opened her journal. Yes, she would make sense of everything by separating fact from fiction—aka her deranged imagination—and sort them in an orderly manner, which would lead her to a rational explanation for everything she’d seen, heard, and felt.

Start with the creepy assassin at your door.

Was he a vampire, too? Maybe.

Would he hurt her? Not likely. Niccolo was über protective and wouldn’t leave her with someone who would harm her.

Okay, that settles it. See. Nothing to be afraid of. Just go out there, introduce yourself, and have him point you to the kitchen.

She peeked one more time outside the bedroom door and shut it once again. Dammit. Tomas was just too big and deadly looking. He also had the whole supernatural vibe going. It rattled her bones.

“Ma’am,” she’d heard a low voice on the other side of the door.

Helena gasped and covered her mouth.

“Miss Strauss? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there.”

Crap. What should she do? If she didn’t answer, she’d look like a coward. For some bizarre reason, images of chickens flashed in her mind. Didn’t the stronger hens always peck at the weaker ones until they were sad looking and without feathers? Did vampires think themselves the stronger hens? She couldn’t show weakness and let them peck her.

Helena took a deep breath and yanked open the door. “What? What the hell do you want?” she barked.

Tomas took a step back, but didn’t appear at all bothered by her tone. “Niccolo told me that I was not to disturb you under any circumstances. But I doubt he anticipated you’d stay in your room without eating for an entire day. So, considering he’ll take my head if you suffered under my care, I thought I’d risk it.”

“Oh.” Helena cautiously eyed him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so…rude…” But you scare the hell out of me.

A tick of amusement flashed in Tomas’ eyes. “I can see you are not quite comfortable with leaving your quarters just yet, so may I order you some food?”

Helena lifted her chin. She was determined to bury her fear, and that included her wobbly knees that seemed to recognize she was talking to a lion who, under normal circumstances, viewed her as a tasty gazelle. “Sausage Pizza and…Dr. Pepper.”

Tomas stared for several moments, fear filling his eyes. “I am certain we can find you a pizza, but I was not aware you are ill and require a doctor. Niccolo will have my head.”

This was going to be a very, very long day.

***

Eight Sad, Long Weeks Later…

Helena stared out the window of the obscenely spacious penthouse overlooking Central Park. In contrast to the stark white walls and white modernist furniture, outside was a vision of drab, sooty gray. The late afternoon rain pattered against the tinted glass, which partially obscured the breathtaking view, all twenty million dollars of it. Not that she cared.

Sadly, this day was one she’d repeated more times than she cared to remember in recent weeks: alone, waiting, and too much time to think.

Even her thick beige turtleneck and wool socks weren’t enough to ward off the coldness lurking in her bones today. Reality had finally sunk in, gonging like a huge bell, really.

I left my home and family for Niccolo.

She still hadn’t figured out what she would eventually tell everyone. Right now, they believed she was on the east coast conducting research for a marine biology outfit in New York. If anyone knew the truth, her best friends Ann and Jess, her mother, they’d all say she’d lost her noodle. Helena barely grasped the situation herself, and no amount of journaling could fix the facts because they didn’t add up to anything that might be recognized as logical.

Almost three months earlier she’d gotten herself stranded in the jungle where she met a vampire—irresistibly sexy…yes! But nevertheless, a real live vampire. She’d then become inexplicably stricken by the urge to spend every waking moment, for the rest of her life and every moment thereafter, at his side. Like a damned puppy!

Yes, he had saved her neck, but the intensity of her feelings still didn’t make sense. And frankly, she was exhausted from trying to figure it out.

Oh stop. You sound like a one woman Maury Povich show entitled, Whaa! I Hooked Up with a Vampire and it Sucks!

Yeah, but it does kinda suck. Doesn’t it?

Keeping up the lies was a full-time job on its own. And she couldn’t not answer her cell or ignore texts. People would start to get suspicious. This morning’s reply to Ann was supposedly sent from the corner café as she waited in line for her triple, skinny venti. Really, she was staring at Niccolo’s Nespresso in the kitchen, waiting for the light to turn green.

A burst of cool air rushed through the room. She spotted Niccolo’s towering form in the doorway. His gorgeous face displayed his trademark smile—dimpled, arrogant, full of mischief.

Helena sighed. He was just so damned beautiful it stole her breath every time she looked at the man. And dammit, if she didn’t still feel euphoric in his presence. Even now, when she was having such painful doubts about the future, the raw masculine energy he radiated was downright addictive.

“Mio cuore, I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice pure decadence. He was wearing his usual black pants. Sometimes they were leather or fine tailored wool, other times linen. But always expensive. Always black. Today, they were snugly-fit, soft black denim. A perfect choice to go with the tight, black, V-neck sweater, which accentuated the ripples of muscles covering every inch of his sublime body. A warrior’s body.

With his eyes locked on her, he glided over and clasped her hand before he gently pulled her into him. His thick waves of black hair tickled her face as his massive frame melded to her. He raised his strong hands to the sides of her head, buried his fingers deep in her curls, and slowly pressed his lips against hers. His cool touch never failed to ignite a potent explosion of butterflies in her stomach and deeper down.