"Then why—"
"Ah, the living room" he firmly intruded, as if it was his turn for a distraction. "You will notice, I hope, the fine bay window that offers a stunning view of the lake. The wooden floors are polished oak that is native to the estate, as is the wood for the hand-carved staircase. There is something terribly fascinating about the stone of the fireplace, but I must admit that I did not pay particular attention when the real estate agent was torturing me with her endless spiel."
She had a brief glimpse of a shadowed room that seemed to consume an enormous amount of space. Oddly, even in the dark and with a muted sense of vastness there was a feel of warmth to the room.
No. She gave an unconscious shake of her head.
The feeling of warmth was not the room, but the entire house.
As if those who had lived here had made it truly a home and left behind the echoes of their happiness.
Lost in her ridiculous thoughts it took a moment to realize that Viper had not turned toward the nearby doorway that led further into the house. Instead he was climbing the wide sweep of stairs.
Crap.
Whatever his promises of not forcing himself upon her she didn't trust him.
He was a vampire.
Enough said.
"Surely that isn't all the rooms on this floor?" she demanded.
"No, but they are not nearly so intriguing as the rooms above." His voice was the same velvet midnight of his eyes. Just as magical,
Damn him.
"I wish you would put me down. I'm perfectly capable of walking." And running. And locking herself in the nearest room.
"I like the feel of you close to me." He reached the landing and turned into the first door on the right. He paused only long enough to touch the switch on the wall before continuing into the center of the room. "Here we are."
Holding herself stiffly, she studied her surroundings. She wasn't sure what she expected. Whips. Chains. Shackles bolted to the wall.
Instead she discovered a room that possessed the same welcoming warmth she had sensed from downstairs.
"This is your bedroom?" she demanded, regarding the large four-poster bed with its thick quilt and hand-carved dresser that held a vase of fresh daisies.
She could think of nothing less suited to the elegant, sophisticated vampire.
Oddly his face became an unreadable mask. Even the midnight eyes were guarded.
"Actually it is yours."
Her heart forgot to beat. "Mine?"
"Do you like it?"
"I..." She licked her dry lips. Suddenly the soft, charming room was more frightening than any amount of chains or shackles. "Why?"
He studied her expression with that unnerving intensity of a predator. "Why what?"
"I'm your slave. You can do anything you want to me. Why are you treating me like some sort of privileged guest?"
"It is because you are my slave that means I can treat you in any manner I think fitting."
She closed her eyes against the power of his gaze. "Please, just tell me what you want from me" she whispered. "The not knowing is worse than anything you can do to me."
There was a moment of hesitation before he was striding forward. Before Shay knew what was about to occur, she felt herself being tossed onto the center of the soft bed.