My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(43)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

"Shall I go for a doctor?"

With an effort he lifted his head to regard her with a strained smile. "A doctor would be of little use to me, I fear."

She bit her lip at his teasing words. "Oh… of course."

"Do not fear. I heal very quickly."

Hoping that he was not merely attempting to disguise how injured he truly was, Jocelyn shifted so that she could wrap her arms about him and pull him against her. She needed to have him close. She needed to feel the beat of his heart and his sweet breath against her cheek.

Instantly she was surrounded by his warm strength, and she could at last draw in a deep breath. There was a great comfort in simply having him near.

"I am not hurting you, am I?" she demanded in concern.

"No." He shifted so that they were both leaning against the hard stone wall and released a faint sigh. "This is much better."

Jocelyn buried her face in his shoulder, breathing deeply of his masculine scent. She was still reeling from her horrifying experience, and while she had never allowed herself to doubt that Lucien would come to her rescue, she could not deny that the past few hours had tried her nerves to the very limit.

Confronting a crazed vampire would have terrified the bravest of souls.

"Lucien, I was so frightened," she whispered in broken tones.

Surprisingly he placed his fingers beneath her chin to tilt her countenance upward. The golden eyes glittered with a smoldering fire.

"Unfortunately you were not frightened enough."

"What?"

"Why did you not flee when I commanded you to?"

She wrinkled her nose at his stern tone. To her relief, she could already sense him regaining much of his strength.

"Because I do not take commands from you, Mr. Valin," she reminded him in crisp tones.

He smiled wryly, his thumb absently stroking the line of her lower lip.

"Eventually I will manage to recall that pertinent fact, Miss Kingly."

Her own smile was weak, but a new warmth was beginning to battle the chill that had filled her.

"I do hope so."

His expression became somber as he allowed his gaze to roam openly over her pale countenance and tumbled curls.

"Still, you should not have taken such a risk."

"I could not leave you."

"It was too dangerous—"

"Lucien," she interrupted firmly. "Would you have left me behind?"

His lips thinned at her logic. "It is not at all the same."

"Of course it is." She met his gaze squarely. "I have enough regrets in my life. Would you have me add hating myself for fleeing like a coward?"

He let out a resigned sigh at her adamant expression. "Of course not. But you are forbidden ever to do such a thing again. My heart could not bear the strain."

Despite the welcome warmth that surrounded her, Jocelyn gave a violent shudder. It would be years before she would recall this day without a flare of fear.

"I hope there shall be no need. Unless there are any other vampires stalking me?"

He shifted so that his arms were locked firmly about her. "Not to my knowledge."

"Thank goodness."

With obvious reluctance Lucien turned to glance toward the faint remains of the powerful vampire. A brief anger flared over his elegant features before they softened with regret.

"How did you conjure such a clever scheme?" he demanded softly.

Jocelyn grimaced, pressing even closer to his hard body. She might feel deeply relieved that Amadeus was no longer a threat, but it was utterly unnerving to consider that she had brought death to anyone, even a vampire.

"Not clever, only desperate. I recalled you saying that a vampire who had taken the life of a human could not bear sunlight."

"The bane of blood lust," he murmured.

"But I had to lure him up here without alerting him to the trap," she continued in uneven tones. "The Medallion was all I could think of."

"Yes." Lucien gave a slow nod of his head. "He was so obsessed, he did not even consider his danger. Not until to was too late."

The memory of those pale, fevered eyes made her stomach clench in disgust. He had been obsessed. Even mad. He would have done anything to claim the Medallion as his own.

"He is dead?" she demanded, needing to be reassured that it was truly at an end.

"Quite dead."

She heaved a faint sigh. "I suppose that I should feel guilty. I have never deliberately harmed another before."

"No." His gaze returned to her darkened eyes, his features suddenly grim. "He would have killed the both of us without thought and ravaged his way through England. He had to be halted."

Jocelyn winced as she recalled poor Molly and the other women who had been ruthlessly murdered by the vampire. Lucien was correct. She could not have allowed further innocents to be brutally tortured by Amadeus. He might even have attacked the children.

The thought was enough to harden her heart.

"Yes," she said.

He grimaced as he studied her shadowed eyes and the pain that still lingered.

"I am sorry, however, that you were forced into such a position. I should have confronted him the moment I arrived in London."

Jocelyn frowned at the self-contempt that laced through his dark voice. She would not allow Lucien to blame himself. Not when he had nearly died attempting to save her.

"Lucien." She lifted her hand and pressed it to the side of his face. Her skin tingled as it encountered the satin warmth of his cheek. "You could not have known what he would do."

His own hand rose to cover her fingers, his golden eyes haunted with remembered pain.

"I knew he was dangerous."

"Enough," she said sharply.

His brows lifted at the stubborn jut of her chin. "What?"

"It is the past. We cannot change what has occurred. All we can do now is consider the future."

There was a long pause, almost as if he battled the urge to argue with her sensible words.

Then the grimness of his features softened and the golden eyes were lit with that warm, rich light that so touched her heart.

"When did you become so very wise?"

Wise? Jocelyn gave a soft chuckle. No one could ever accuse her of being wise in the past.

Not when she had so recklessly played the flirt with Lord Patten. Not when she had meekly allowed her parents to force her from her rightful place in their life. Nor even when she had determinedly set upon a new path without first accepting and forgiving the mistakes that she had made.