shaken himself, and I somehow found my legs. "You seem to have a number of talents, little witch.”
Any answer I might have made caught in my throat when I noticed what he was wearing. His clothes at the theatre had seemed a bit off, but this was really over the top. My hands sank into a claret-colored coat voluminous enough to act like a cloak. It was made of rich, heavy wool with a silken nap, edged by a thick band of gold embroidery. It fell a little past his knees, brushing the tops of dark brown boots. The outer garment opened to reveal a thin, golden brown inner robe, so soft that it had to be cashmere. It was loose but light enough that it clung to his body, outlining the sharply defined muscles of his chest, the long waist, the narrow hips, and the heavy weight of his sex.
I assumed it was traditional Romanian dress for a noble and, oddly enough, it suited him. But I doubted he'd chosen it for fashion's sake. Mircea preferred simple clothes that stood out because of superb tailoring. Tonight he was making a statement, the outfit a far more potent reminder of his lineage than the vest he'd worn to the theatre had been. The dragons on the waistcoat had been almost invisible- although I assumed vampiric sight would have picked them out easily enough-a subtle reference to his family symbol. Where it had whispered a reminder of his rank, his current outfit screamed it. I wondered who the message was for, and why he would need to make it badly enough to go around looking like a barbarian chief.
The impression was reinforced by the sword hanging from a jeweled belt at his waist. The gold and cabochon rubies glinted dimly in the thin light, heavy and obviously old, like something out of a crusader's treasure. As perhaps it was. I'd never seen Mircea carry a weapon before-when you're a master vampire, it's a little redundant-and it startled me. "You're armed.”
"In this company, certainly." He moved behind me, baring my body to the room, and an arm slid around my waist, pulling me tight against him. As he kissed along my shoulder, silky hair, longer than my own, fell forward over my throat, but that wasn't his destination. He brought my arm up and around his neck in a backwards embrace, and the pinpricks of fangs dented my skin.
He was directly over the artery in my upper arm, but he wasn't feeding-I'd have felt the energy drain, even if he didn't pierce the skin. But it probably looked convincing. It also put him in perfect position to whisper in my ear, his voice low and dangerous. "What concerns me is that you, who claim to be merely human, are not. You are either very foolish or… more than you appear. What urgent business brings you here tonight?”
The geis was enjoying the silk of Mircea's breath against my cheek. It flooded my body with molten sweetness to the point that I could barely breathe, much less talk. And what would I have told him? There was a problem, otherwise I wouldn't be here, but I had no idea what it was. And in this company, it was beyond ludicrous to think that I could affect anything. I was seriously beginning to doubt that my power knew what it was doing.
"You ruined the play for me," Mircea whispered. "I could not stop thinking about you. All I could see was that lovely body spread out for me… in my box… in my carriage… in my bed.”
He pulled me around to face him and his mouth covered mine again, sweeping us away. The kiss was rougher and sweeter at the same time, threatening to overwhelm me with the mindlessness of pleasure. I could have no more broken away than I could have fought the whole room and won.
Mircea finally pulled back, eyes gleaming, cheeks flushed. "Why do I want to touch you so badly?" The voice turned rough. "What have you done to me?”
I thought that should be my line. "I'm here to help," I told him shakily. "You're in danger.”
His fingers stroked along the curve of my face, slowly, tenderly, as if he were touching something far more intimate. I licked my lips, and Mircea's eyes dropped to my mouth. "I can see that.”
"Mircea! I'm serious!”
"So we are already on a first-name basis. Good; I despise formality." As he spoke, the geis tugged at