Deeper than the Night - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,87
blossomed into a flower of rare beauty, but I could not take her virginity, could not forge that bond of intimacy between us.
"What is it?" she asked. "What did you want to tell me?"
Filled with self-loathing for what I was about to do, I gazed into her eyes and prayed that she would be able to forgive me for my deception . . .
Alex sat back in his chair, his palms resting on either side of the keyboard.
He doubted there would be a happy ending for himself and Kara, but he could grant one to his vampire.
With a sigh, he began to write once again.
Hesitantly, I told her the truth, then waited for her to spurn me, to flee in terror from the monster who had dared to love her.
"Vampire?" she exclaimed softly. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. "Vampire?" she said again, and began to laugh.
At first, I thought her hysterical with fear. Tears rolled down her cheeks; she held her sides as laughter continued to bubble from her lips.
"Vampire! Oh, Alesandro, is that all?"
"Is that all?" Iasked, shocked by her reaction. "All? Isn't that enough?"
"I've known about that for months," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"Known? How could you have known?"
"I'm not blind, or stupid," she replied with a toss of her head. "You never eat, you cast no shadow, I never saw you during the day." She shrugged. "I saw how you looked at me that night I pricked my finger on a thorn. I saw the hunger in your eyes before you turned away. I saw, and I knew."
"And you don't care?"
"Of course I care, but . . ." She smiled up at me. "I thought you were going to tell me you were married."
"No," I said, my mind still reeling with her ready acceptance of what Iwas. "I'm not married."
"But you will be soon," she predicted.
"Will I?"
"I'm sure of it," she said, and rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to mine, and in that kiss was the promise of forever . . .
Forever, Alexander mused as he saved the file and exited the program. He had stayed in Moulton Bay too long. It was time to move on. Time to find a new place to live, a new name, a new identity. For him, it wouldn't be hard. He had no family to leave behind, no ties to bind him to one place. He could abandon civilization, hide out in a jungle in the Amazon until Barrett was dead . . .
"Alexander?"
He whirled around, startled to see Kara standing in the doorway. It was the first time she had taken him unawares. "I thought you had turned in for the night."
Kara shrugged. "I'm not tired."
"I am." He stood up, his chair between them. "I'm going to bed."
"No, you're not."
He arched one thick black brow. "No?"
"Not until we get this straightened out."
"Get what straightened out?"
"I want to know where you think you're going without me, and why."
Too late, he realized that while he was writing he had neglected to maintain the barrier between his mind and hers.
She crossed her arms over her breasts and regarded him solemnly. "I'm waiting."
Alex stared at her. She was wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of his socks, and nothing else. She should have looked ridiculous; instead, she looked young and innocent and vastly appealing. Her legs were long and slender. A wave of heat suffused him as he imagined them wrapped around his waist.
"I'm going to bed," he said firmly, and brushed past her before she could stop him.
In his room, he shut the door, stripped off his sweater, then went to the window and stared into the darkness. He had to get her out of here. She'd never be safe with him, not until Barrett was no longer a threat. Until then, he had to find her a refuge of some kind. But where?
He went suddenly still as the door opened.
"I'm still waiting."
Her scent, soap mingled with toothpaste and strawberry shampoo, was intoxicating. Hands clenched at his sides, he glanced over his shoulder. "Go to bed, Kara."
"All right."
Too late, he remembered there was only one bed in the house his and she was walking toward it.
"Kara . . ." He raked his hands through his hair, then shoved them into his pocketsto keep from sweeping her into his arms.
She sat on the edge of the mattress looking up at him. "I'm listening."