There was a long pause, as if he was trying to decide if she was completely bonkers.
Which was really rather ironic under the circumstances.
"You talk to plants?" he at last demanded.
"Of course." Darcy turned, her breath catching at the sight of him. It just didn't seem fair that any man should be so flat-out beautiful. Hastily she returned her attention to the plants. It was that or gawking at the sinful beast as if she didn't have a brain. "They get lonely, just like people. Don't you, Rudolf?"
"Rudolf?"
She gave a lift of her shoulder. "Well, I didn't know the names you gave to them so I had to call them something. This time of year it seemed appropriate to name them after Santa's reindeer. You know, 'Twas the Night before Christmas'?"
Darcy gave a jump of surprise as he was suddenly kneeling next to her. She hadn't heard a whisper. Was he that quiet, or could he just pop from one place to another like magic?
Seemingly unaware of the fact mat he had just scared the bejeezus out of her, the vampire regarded her with a curious expression.
"I'm assuming that it is some human tradition? They seem to have an endless supply of them."
"Vampires don't celebrate Christmas?"
"When one is eternal the urge to mark the path of the year with odd rituals seems rather redundant."
Her unease swiftly faded. Strange that when he was near she couldn't seem to recall that he was a dangerous creature holding her captive.
Maybe it was because she kept being overwhelmed by the urge to rip off that clinging sweater and run her lips over his smooth, bronzed skin.
Yeah, that might be it.
"Christmas isn't about marking the path of the year," she protested, her fingers gently stroking the leaves of Rudolf.
"No?"
"It's about the spirit of the season. Peace on earth and goodwill to men." Her lashes lowered to hide the loneliness she kept hidden inside. She didn't want anyone's pity. "It's about love, and kindness, and … family."
Slender, bronzed fingers reached out to curl around her hand. His skin was cool, but it managed to send a sharp flare of heat racing straight to the pit of her stomach.
"If it is such a special celebration, then why does it make you sad?" Styx murmured softly.
She stiffened at his unwelcome perception. "What makes you think that it makes me sad?"
He leaned closer, his dark eyes strangely hypnotic. "I can feel your sadness. It embraces you like an old friend."
Darcy swallowed heavily. She was losing herself in that magnetic gaze. In the soft stroke of his thumb over her inner wrist.
Oy. It had been so very, very long since anyone had touched her with such intimacy.
"What do you mean you can feel it?" she demanded in a husky tone.
"I'm a master vampire."
"And that makes you what? Some sort of super mind reader?"
"No, but I can sense very deep emotions when I'm touching you."
Darcy shifted uneasily. She didn't like the thought of him reading her moods. Not when a part of that mood included a very tangible desire to snuggle against that hard chest and kiss her way over those perfect male features.
"Oh."
His free hand lifted to cup her chin. "Tell me why you're sad, Darcy."