As Twilight Falls(33)
Author: Amanda Ashley

In the living room, Kadie sank down on the sofa, a book in her lap, but instead of reading, she found herself staring at the suit of armor standing in the corner. She couldn’t imagine wearing anything like that. It must weigh a ton. She wondered again if Saintcrow had worn it during the Crusades, or if it was just a decoration.

Lost in thought, she was hardly aware of time passing until Saintcrow appeared on the sofa beside her.

“Oh!” Kadie exclaimed, one hand pressed to her heart. “You really have to stop that.”

“You should be used to it by now.”

“I guess.” She ran her fingers over the spine of the book, wondering how best to bring up the subject that had been on her mind since lunch.

Saintcrow cocked his head to one side. “Something wrong?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I suppose, after last night, I was expecting a warmer welcome.”

“Is that so?”

His eyes narrowed. “All right, what’s bothering you?”

She took a deep breath, and said it all in a rush. “Is it true that vampires are incapable of feeling human emotions?”

“Who’s been talking to you now?”

“Is it true?”

“Yes, and no.”

“That’s no answer.”

“Most of us turn human emotions off because it makes it easier to prey on people if your feelings don’t get in the way. After a while, it becomes second nature to hide what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling.”

“Can vampires fall in love?”

“If they let themselves.”

“How am I supposed to know what’s real and what isn’t? You already proved that you could make me want you against my will.”

“I told you the attraction between us was real, and I meant it. There’s no way for me to prove it to you. Either you believe me, or you don’t. I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

Trust a vampire. That was asking quite a lot.

Kadie stared into the distance. She wanted so badly to believe that what she felt for Saintcrow was real, but how was she to know if he was telling the truth? If only she could read his mind the way he read hers.

She could feel him watching her. Was he reading her mind even now? She had never felt like this about any other man. Did that mean Saintcrow was manipulating her? Or that she had finally found the man of her dreams? Just her luck that he was a vampire.

Kadie sighed. They were so different. Worlds apart, she thought, separated not only by hundreds of years but by the way they viewed life. And, most of all, by the fact that he was no longer human. He was, for all intents and purposes, dead during the day.

“Not dead.”

The words were so faint, she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined them, or if he’d said them aloud.

He needed blood to survive.

“Do you ever get tired of drinking blood?” As soon as the question was out, she wished she could call it back.

He lifted one brow. “Do you ever get tired of eating chocolate?”

“Touché, milord.” She looked up at him. “What did you mean when you said, ‘Not dead.’”

He shrugged. “I can move about during the day if it’s necessary.”

So, what was she to do? It was obvious that she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Saintcrow was handsome and charming and she enjoyed his company. Why not make the best of it?

“Is that armor yours? I mean, did you wear it during the Crusades?”

“No. That kind of armor came later. I wore chain mail. I got the tin suit at an antique store.”

“Oh. Did you wear anything under the chain mail? I mean, all those metal links couldn’t have been comfortable against bare skin.”

“You’re right about that. We wore bries. Think of it as medieval underwear. Over that we wore cloth chausses on our legs. Those were covered by another set of mail, also called chausses. A gambeson protected our body.” Seeing the question in her eyes, he said, “A gambeson is a thick quilted coat. We wore our hauberk—the mail—over it. The thing weighed about forty pounds. A surcoat was worn over the armor to keep the desert sun off the metal, and to identify individual knights. Surcoats were usually embroidered with a knight’s arms or family crest. During the Crusades, a lot of us wore a white surcoat emblazoned with a red cross to remind us what we were fighting for.”

“Do you still have it?”

“No, why?”

“I’d loved to have seen you in it. In days of old, when knights were bold,” she said, grinning. “Were you bold? Did you have a lady fair?”

“None so fair as you.”

Five little words spoken in his whiskey-rough voice and she melted. Rosemary could insist from now until doomsday that vampires were incapable of human emotions, but she was wrong. Kadie heard the wanting in Saintcrow’s voice, saw the desire in his eyes.

He slid his arm around her waist, drawing her up against him, holding her close. For a time, he simply held her, one hand lightly massaging her back.

Kiss me, she thought.

A moment later, he tilted her head up and claimed her lips with his. It was a kiss like none of the others they had shared, one filled with an aching tenderness that gradually grew deeper, more intense. It unleashed a wave of longing deep within her, a hunger for his touch, a yearning to touch him in return.

“Kadie?”

She gazed into his eyes, perhaps into his soul. He wanted her. He was a powerful creature, able to bend her will to his if he chose, capable of taking her by force. Yet he left the decision to her. How could she refuse him when she wanted him so desperately?

When she nodded, he stood, carrying her with him. His steps were long and swift as he carried her up the stairs to her room. He lowered her onto the bed, then stretched out beside her.

He cared for her.

She’d bet her life on it.

A poor choice of words, she mused.

Because that was exactly what she was doing.

He kissed her then, a searing kiss that made her toes curl with pleasure. If she was to die, she thought, there was no place she would rather do it than in Rylan Saintcrow’s arms.

In the morning, Kadie woke smiling. She lay there staring up at the ceiling for a long time, reliving the hours she had spent in Saintcrow’s arms. What an incredible lover he was, she thought, and then giggled because she had no one else to compare him to. But surely no other man was as tender. Or as inventive. A blush heated her cheeks as she recalled her wanton behavior, and the way he had urged her on, encouraging her to let go of her inhibitions.