Chapter 40
The Gift
Ishowered then blow-dried my hair, and stood staring into the retail boutique Karson had bought for me.
He’d considered my style and purchased more plain V-neck t-shirts and jeans than any girl would ever need.
At the end of the rack, there was a collection of dresses with silken fabrics that would drape over curves, and a few shorter, fitted styles. I pulled the black one out.
“Not that one,” Karson said from behind, hoisting it from my hands and hanging it back. “That’s for my eyes only. It was bad enough watching men stare at you in your black leather pants.”
I turned back, grinning. He wore black slacks, but he was bare-chested, and his hair was damp as if he’d rushed from the shower to stop me donning the dress.
“Are you jealous?”
“Only if you call wanting to smash in the eyeballs of any male that even glances sideways at you jealous.”
I chuckled. “Are you worried I’m going to run off with the feral creepy one that makes my skin crawl, or the baby-faced vampire?”
“I’m not worried about you running off with any of them, but I prefer not to have to gouge out the eyes of my dinner guests—it might get messy.”
“I don’t think Georgie would like it,” I agreed, turning back to study the rack of clothing. “If she’s coming?”
“She’s attending. She’s getting ready now.”
I’d almost lost my friend to trauma and fear and had only just gotten her back. She was more accepting now of the supernatural world, but still I felt as if she teetered on the edge of a cliff; one bad thing and she’d crash again.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Is that a good idea? Is anything likely to happen that might upset her?”
Karson rubbed the back of his neck. “Perhaps. Rodney can be unpredictable, but Michael did warn her and she chose to attend.”
Vampires consuming blood from goblets was probably a given. The first time I’d witnessed it my stomach had turned, but Georgie would have witnessed that by now.
“What am I meant to wear, then?”
“Wear whatever you feel comfortable in.” He took hold of my hand.
“While you decide, I have something else for you.” He led me back to the bedroom, where a cool breeze wafted through the open balcony doors.
On the bed was a white box with gold edging—a jewelry box; too large to be a ring box. Shame.
“You bought me something,” I whispered.
“Don’t look so surprised. I would buy you the world if you asked for it.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Open it.”
I placed the box on my palm and flicked the lid open.
Inside was the most exquisitely detailed antique gold necklace with a large emerald-colored pendant, encased in gold-scrolled surrounds.
The necklace matched my mother’s ring. The ring she had gifted me to block my powers so I didn’t accidentally hurl some kid across the room. The detail was stunning.
“I had it made for you,” he said hesitantly, when I simply stared at it and didn’t speak. “Do you like it?”
I looked up at him, my throat choked with emotion. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”
A breath of relief fluttered from his lips.
“I wanted to get you a ring made like your mother’s.
” His voice was husky, and he dropped his eyes as if it was easier for him than to show me his emotions, or maybe to see mine.
“But I wasn’t sure if you would feel comfortable wearing a replica …
And I know it won’t be the same, but I was hoping it might help … ”
“It’s perfect.”
He took the necklace out of the box and shifted behind me, placing it around my neck. It was heavy and fell just below the collarbone. I ran my fingers over the top of the smooth stone, just like I used to do to my mother’s ring.
And then a thought dawned. I frowned and turned back to face him. “Is it spelled?”
He blinked. “It will not block your powers, Amelia. Feel free to throw me across the room if you so wish.”
If I paid attention, I could feel the powers buzzing through my veins. I should have done that before I asked …
“Sorry, I’m not sure why I asked. Thank you.
” I pulled him into my arms, resting my head against his bare chest. He held me for a moment then stepped back, and in one fast movement he’d whipped my t-shirt off so I was naked.
He ran his eyes over my body and smiled, then wrapped his arms back around me and pulled me close again.
“If I had time, I would ravish every inch of your body,” he crooned. “Alas, I do not.”
I peered up at him. “Then why did you remove my top?”
“I just wanted to see what you looked like wearing nothing but the necklace so I can keep the image in my mind over dinner. You will be my dessert,” he breathed, running a finger down the side my breast. My skin quivered under his touch and my groin ached for him.
“I would prefer to be your entrée,” I said, standing on my tiptoes and kissing the side of his neck. “And your dinner.” I nibbled his earlobe. “And your dessert.”
He moaned and stepped back. “Stop or we won’t make it to dinner, and Rodney will be here any minute.”
“What?” I glanced at the clock.
“He is always early,” Karson answered casually, slipping on a white shirt he had laid on the bed.
“Why?”
“He likes to catch people by surprise,” he said, buttoning up his shirt.
I sighed. “I better finish getting ready, then.” I moved to the drawer and took out a lacy black bra and matching underwear.
“Amelia.” His voice sounded so grave I swung back. “Whatever is said or done tonight, you need to remember is done for a reason.”
“I know, he can’t know you’re in love with me.” I stepped into my underwear.
Karson watched me and almost laughed when I lost balance and had to hop a few times. Then he was serious again. “He knows we are together physically, but he cannot know I have fallen for you.”
I scowled. “He can’t be much of a friend if you don’t trust him.”
He turned away so I couldn’t see his face. “He has his benefits.”
I slipped my bra on. “How do you want me to act, then?”
“Act?” He swung back. “You are a terrible actor, and I do not want you to act at all. If you do, Rodney will know immediately and wonder why. Just be yourself and leave the acting part to me.”
“I can fake it like the best of them, you know.” I crossed my arms. “Dahlia taught me to hide my emotions.”
“Oh yes, Amelia, you are state of the art. Line up for the Oscars.”
I rolled my eyes.
He tucked in his shirt. “Do not even attempt it. I will work on teaching you to hide your emotions tomorrow and how to fight. If that’s the best Dahlia can teach you, I shudder to think how poor your other fighting skills are.”
“You keep that up and I might show you just how they are,” I said lightly, stepping to him and fixing his collar.
He chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his black boots, so glossy they shimmered like a mirror.
“Just so I understand, I can show I’m in love with you, look at you gooey-eyed, but you are to treat me like I’m just a fling and you don’t think that’s suspicious?”
“I’m a vampire, Amelia, it’s only natural you would adore me.”
I struggled not to laugh. “Oh but of course, how silly of me, how did I ever forget.” I threw my arm over my forehead dramatically. “A lowly human cannot help but fall for your elite immortal charisma.”
“Correct. You are human and I am a vampire, so it’s the natural order of events.” There was no humor in his response, just a statement of fact.
I huffed a laugh. “That was sarcasm.”
He stood up. “I know.” He kissed the side of my head as I heard a car pull into the drive and four doors close. Karson stepped back, his face no longer relaxed but taut with something that looked like apprehension. “I might have to be someone you do not recognize tonight.”
My chest felt tight. “I’ll be fine.”
“I will have to be … different.”
He had a role to play and I had mine. “I know.”
“Do not hate me.”
I blinked in surprise. In those four words—in his eyes—was a pleading. Christ, what would I see? It was a vampire dinner with vampires almost as ancient as he was.
I took his warm hand and squeezed. “Never. I better finish getting ready.” I scampered off to the bathroom before he could say any more.
My body quivered with nerves as I applied makeup.
I made it heavier than usual; I used deep-brown eyeshadows and dark kohl eyeliner.
Probably it was stupid, but if I had to be strong tonight, I wanted to look like I was strong, as if what I wore and how I looked could enhance the strength inside somehow.
When I moved back into the room, lying on the bed was a sleek long black gown. On it was a note written in black calligraphy-style writing that put my messy scrawl to shame and read, You should wear this. K xxx
Wear that! To dinner at home with vampires showing my neck, shoulders and décolletage.
It was an evening gown, something you would wear to elegant parties.
It was fitted and the fabric wasn’t stretchy, so I could barely breathe in it, let alone fight.
“Wear what makes you comfortable,” he said, “don’t act, just be yourself. ”
I sighed and got dressed.