Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
Every passing week, Claire felt closer to him. They met for countless dinners out after work, made a day trip of visiting the largest art museum in Virginia, rode horses at Warbler Ranch, returned to the waterfall for a swim.
They hung out often with the friend group, usually at Ryker and Leslie’s house, and Tai flourished among friends he didn’t have to hide his condition from.
For Claire, the sweetest moment so far had come when he gave a hard shiver sitting beside her, and Nova grabbed a blanket from the back of her own chair and tossed it to him.
Tai bundled up with a smile of thanks, never tried to shrink anymore.
When he was with them, he was his full self—deep opinions, deep emotions, clear thoughts and clear words.
Claire was so proud of him and so proud to be with him. And tonight they’d attend the biggest event of Josie Strong’s fiscal year together, impeccably planned and executed by this man she loved so much.
Tai had told her to arrive early and glam up at his place, so something was up.
The Christmas in July donor appreciation event, which had taken a lot of both delegation and direct contact on his part, didn’t start until six thirty.
Claire did some delegating of her own, left Slake It Off at four, and twenty minutes later stepped into her boyfriend’s elevator and rode to the penthouse floor.
Her arms were full with her garment bag, makeup kit, and shoes as she stepped into the foyer. Tai met her wearing slim-fit black jeans…and nothing else.
“Um, hello.” She gave his torso an exaggerated ogle, but she hardly had to exaggerate. Dang, this man was hot.
Tai laughed, came to her, and kissed her over her armful of dress and accessories. He nodded at the dress. “You won’t need that.”
“You said black tie.”
“Mmhm.” The man was smirking.
“Well, unless you want me to wear work pants and—” Wait. “My dress?”
“Surprise.”
Claire stared past him as if she might glimpse it from here.
He said, “Why do you think I wanted you to come over early?”
“I assumed it was so we could make out.”
Laughing again, his eyes glinting with satisfaction, he led her to his study. “You can change in here and do your makeup in the hall bathroom.”
“Works for me,” she said, or began to say, because just then it came into view, its hanger hooked over the open library door. Her dress.
Claire shifted her garment and accessory bags to one arm and reached out to touch it. It was the same dress in almost every way. The folds of crepe skirt, the bunched taffeta flower on one shoulder. Only one difference—this dress was purple. Gloriously purple. Royal purple.
“This is the color it should have been in the first place,” she said.
Behind her, Tai let out a huff of breath.
Claire turned to face him. “What? Didn’t I say ‘err on the side of purple’?”
“Well, there’s that, and there’s”—he gestured to the dress—“this.”
“It’s gorgeous, Tai. It’s exactly right.”
A smile spread over his face, all the way up to crinkle around his eyes. Claire stepped in close and kissed him, her armful of dress pinned between them. After a few moments, Tai drew back.
“I’ll let you get ready.”
“I have an hour and a half to put on a dress and some makeup.”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“I’m an efficient dresser, in case you didn’t know. We can spend at least half that time doing more important things.”
The next thing she knew, her arms were empty.
Tai had draped her garment bag over the back of the chair, plopped the accessory bag and shoes onto the seat, and returned to her all within the space of a human heartbeat.
He wrapped his arms around her and fused his lips to hers.
Claire twined her arms around his neck and reveled in their closeness.
Nothing filled the space between them now.
No secrets, no fears. She never wanted to let him go.
He swept kisses over her jawline, and Claire gripped his sides as her knees weakened. His skin was always cooler than hers.
“Tai,” she said as his lips moved…down her neck.
She shifted in his arms to capture his mouth with hers, and the kiss intensified, became almost frantic with their mutual need to be closer.
They backed into a corner of the den until his back hit the wall, and still Claire wasn’t close enough.
When his lips moved from her jaw to her neck for the second time, her body began to tremble with her need…
for the ultimate closeness between vampires.
“Yes,” she said before he had to ask.
“Now,” he said.
“Tai, yes. I’m ready.”
“I’m ready too.” He pressed his mouth to hers again, and the delay made her drag the pads of her fingers down his bare chest in frustration. He gave a low laugh against her mouth. “Now?”
“Do I have to say yes again?”
Tai turned his head into the crook of her shoulder. He pressed his lips there for a long moment, and then his lips pulled back, and he sank his teeth.
A galaxy exploded behind her eyes. She felt the light suction as he sipped from her, and her knees gave out, and Tai caught and supported her, his teeth never slipping.
His heart beat once, and hers beat in the same moment.
Then it happened again. He lifted his head and met her eyes, and his were shining with pure awe.
“You,” he whispered.
As the galaxy faded, the craving seized her. She had to seal what he had started.
Instantly Tai saw her need. He nodded. “Your turn.”
She couldn’t speak. She could only bite.
Her teeth sank into his neck, and his blood was downright cold, deliciously sour.
As it hit her tongue, she saw a flash of steel-colored eyes, and then her vision washed the same color, and she felt.
So much. Care and compassion, responsibility and worry, love and gratitude, struggle and pain, appreciation and joy, all swelling up from a safe bedrock of utter strength.
It was him. It was all Tai. It came to her with a chorus of strings and piano.
It came to her in wave after wave that pulled tears from her eyes.
Her heart gave another beat, and his beat too.
She could be on the other side of the world from Tai Kristiansen, and she’d know each time his heart beat.
She’d know each time he laughed, each time he cried.
She lifted her head and looked into his beautiful glinting eyes. She brushed a stray lock of his black hair from his forehead.
“Hi, my love,” she whispered.
He smiled and whispered back. “Hi, beautiful.”
She pressed her palm to her chest. “You’re here now. Right here. I can feel you.”
He nodded.
“You can feel me too?”
Another nod. A tear fell down his cheek, and she brushed it away.
“Leslie tried to describe this to me, but she didn’t do it justice.”
“Could you?”
Not anywhere close. She shook her head, pressed her lips gently to the silver scar at the dip of Tai’s shoulder.
Then she rested her head there, overwhelmed with contentment, with the vitality of him that rested inside her now, a treasure to hold, a sealed bond that nothing would break for a thousand years.
“So…” He stirred against the wall, smirked as his eyes traveled up and down the way she’d nestled up to his chest. “The dress was in my plan. This…not so much.”
“Spontaneity for the win.” Claire took his lip between hers and pressed her teeth lightly, her fangs already retracted.
A laugh shook his chest. “I regret nothing. But we might want to get dressed.”
Getting her head back into formal mode wasn’t easy despite the glory of the dress. If Claire could have crawled into yoga pants and cuddled with her eternal instead of glamming up, she probably would have done it.
Her eternal.
She truly hadn’t needed this to feel secure about Tai.
Not anymore. But what a gift to have it anyway, to feel his soul beat in time with hers.
She couldn’t wait to tell Leslie, to tell Ember…
yet at the same time, she could. It was so new, so intimate, maybe she’d keep it to herself for a day or two.
She was ready in plenty of time. Tai emerged from his room flipping the ends of his tie into a perfect, effortless bow. Of course the man could tie a bow tie. No clip-on for Tai Kristiansen. He stopped still when he saw her, and then a slow smile overtook his face.
“Beautiful,” he said.
“Same.” She nodded at him. Her eternal stood nonchalantly, unnaturally gorgeous as ever.
“No. Not the same at all.” He stepped in close and wrapped her in his arms. Her gown swished as she pressed in close, and he kissed the top of her head rather than her brightly glossed lips. “My beautiful eternal.”
“Is this how you’re going to be now? Bloodbound and sentimental?”
“Claire Elisabeth, if you haven’t noticed before now that I’m sentimental…”
“Fair point.”
They were quiet on the drive, content to absorb the other’s presence. Claire knew Tai was processing it all just as she was because…well, because she knew. His moods were part of her awareness now, even without looking at him or hearing his voice.
As they walked into the banquet hall, the festive elegance made her pause just past the doors. “Oh, Tai, it’s gorgeous. Who designed all this?”
“I contracted an event planner, and mostly she worked with my assistant, Bella. I did exercise veto power when Bella campaigned for snowman centerpieces.”
Claire approached the nearest table to compare what Tai had not vetoed.
The centerpieces were appropriately classic, shallow glass bowls that held real evergreen and red poinsettias as well as a single white candle.
The candle had been set off-center in a way that looked both deliberate and interesting, drawing the eye to study the rest of the arrangement in a way one might otherwise overlook.
“Not too tall,” Claire said. “So people can talk easily across the table?”
“Exactly.” He gave her a grin that made his platinum eyes flash. “Nobody would get to know anybody around a twenty-inch snowman.”