Chapter Twelve #2
Bryony hesitated. What if it was a secret? Would James get into trouble for telling her?
“Answer me.”
“You won’t hurt him, will you?”
He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “It was James, was it not?”
Darn! She had momentarily forgotten he could read her mind.
Stefan swore inwardly. It wasn’t true. Merely a convenient lie to explain why no one saw him during the day. He could be awake if necessary, even abide the sun’s touch for an hour or two, but he was a creature of the night.
“So, it’s true?” Bryony asked.
“In a manner of speaking.” He gestured at her plate. “Have you finished your dinner?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I saw you riding today. Would you like to go riding with me?”
“Now?” she asked, glancing out the side window. The sun had set an hour ago.
“Why not now?”
“It’s dark.”
“We went walking in the dark,” he reminded her.
“Yes, but… All right.” She didn’t know which of them was more surprised by her answer
“I will have the horses saddled while you change clothes.”
Nodding, she rose from the table and made her way to her bedchamber. She paused when she opened the door, surprised to see a navy-blue riding habit laid out on the bed. Shiny black riding boots rested on the floor.
Closing the door behind her, she quickly stepped out of her dress and into the riding habit.
She studied her reflection in the full-length mirror in the corner.
The blue velvet skirt and matching jacket fit as though they had been made for her.
How had he known her size? Or that she would agree to go with him tonight?
And where had he found such lovely attire on such short notice? They had only been here a few days.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she tugged on the soft leather boots, took a last glance at herself in the mirror before hurrying down the stairs.
Stefan was waiting for her by the back door. Was it only his imagination or did she grow more beautiful with every passing day? “Ready?”
At her nod, he opened the door and followed her into the yard. Hawkins held Daisy’s reins. James stood beside a big grey horse with a black mane and tail and three black stockings.
When Hawkins made as if to lift Bryony into the saddle, Stefan stepped forward and lifted her himself, then swung onto the back of the grey.
Taking up the reins, he touched his heels to the horse’s flanks and rode out of the yard toward the hills.
When they cleared the yard, he paused to wait for Bryony.
She clucked to the mare and trotted up beside him.
“Stay close,” he said, his gaze moving over her as he lifted the reins.
They rode in silence. A full moon lit their way through the darkness. Millions of stars smiled down on them. The night was quiet save for the sound of insects and the muted sound of hoofbeats.
“Do you do this often?” Bryony asked as they splashed across a shallow creek.
“Often enough.” His gaze met hers. “But never with anyone as lovely as you.”
Warmth spread through her at the compliment.
They rode for an hour before Stefan brought his horse to a halt.
Dismounting, he dropped the grey’s reins, then put his hands at Bryony’s waist and lifted her from the saddle and into his arms. His gaze burned into hers.
He murmured her name, his voice a low growl as he lowered his head, his lips moving evocatively over hers.
She sighed as he rained heated kisses along the side of her neck.
She drew back, startled, when his teeth grazed her skin, let out a gasp when she looked into his eyes.
Eyes that glowed like embers in the dark.
Twisting out of his embrace, she took several steps backward.
Stefan swore under his breath. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before he opened them again.
Bryony stared at him.
“I did not mean to alarm you,” he said.
Bryony frowned. Had she imagined that odd glow in his eyes? She must have, because it was gone now.
“Are you ready to go back?” he asked.
“What? Oh, yes.”
His hands were gentle as he lifted her into the saddle, then handed her the reins. She watched as he swung effortlessly onto the grey’s back, reined the horse around, and led the way back toward the house.
That night, she dreamed of wolves with red eyes chasing her through the woods.
He stood by her bed, watching her sleep. He had been there for hours, content to be near her. From time to time, he caressed her cheek with his knuckles. Her scent surrounded him—her hair, her skin, her blood. Ah, the blood. It whispered sweetly to him, a siren song like no other.
The need to feed rose within him but still he stood there, unwilling to leave her side.
He had adored many women. Made love to high-born ladies and concubines alike.
But he had never been in love. After a century or two, he had come to the conclusion that vampires were incapable of such a human emotion.
Until the night Bryony stumbled into his lair in the valley.
He had been drawn to her from the moment he discovered her asleep on his couch.
Each passing day had only made him want her more.
Leaning down, he brushed a kiss across her cheek. It would be dawn in an hour or two. As much as he hated to leave her, his insatiable hunger would not be ignored.
One last kiss and he left the house, all his senses attuned to the night. Somewhere out there in the shifting shadows, his prey awaited.