A Vampire for Christmas - By Michele Hauf Page 0,77

point in time—a scant year ago in his long existence.

Another Christmas Eve that had also ended in tragedy.

The sights and sounds from a year ago overwhelmed his senses as a trill of laughter filled the air. The door to the room in the vision flung open.

Angelina tumbled in like a playful puppy, her face alight with joy. The Damien in the vision chased after her, a broad smile on his face as he worked on the buttons of his linen shirt.

Damien knew what would follow and didn’t want to see. He didn’t want a reminder of all that he had lost. Yet the scene continued, punishing him with its presence.

“Do not show me this, Angelina,” he commanded, pushing to his feet and grabbing hold of her arms. He tempered his hold when she breathed a complaint at the force of his grasp.

“Are you afraid, Damien? Do you fear what you might learn about the man that you are?”

Do you fear what you might feel? came her voice in his head, challenging him to face not only the past, but his own heart.

Maybe I haven’t changed, Damien thought, accepting her challenge. Allowing himself to leave her and return to that moment in the past to face his demons. As had happened before, he experienced a wild glide through the air until he slammed into the body of the Damien in the vision.

He stumbled back from Angelina as he came alert to everything in the room. His senses registered the smell of wood smoke from the fire burning brightly in the grate. The cheery warmth of it was in direct contrast to the slight chill coming from the edges of the curtains drawn against the bright winter sun.

“We don’t have long,” Angelina said, reaching for the buttons on his shirt, but he brushed away her hands. If some God somewhere had decided that this was the only time he would have with her, he would not rush.

“Then let us not waste this moment,” he replied, lifting his hand and dragging his fingers along the smooth skin in the enticing V of her pale lavender blouse. The hue accentuated the color of her eyes, making them appear an even more striking green. He repeatedly ran his thumb up and down the silkiness of her skin and watched the emerald color darken in passion.

“Please, Damien. I only have an hour for lunch,” she complained, although the playful tone of her voice was hard to miss.

He relented and, with a slight tug, undid the bow holding the butterfly blouse closed. As the fabric draped open, it exposed more of the cleavage between her generous breasts. Dipping one finger beneath the fabric, he traced the full swells above the lace cups of her bra and smiled as her nipples puckered beneath his caress. The hard points were noticeably visible through her brassiere and the gauzy cotton of the blouse.

He shifted his hand to stroke his thumb across the peaked tip and she sighed her pleasure.

He met her gaze then, different and yet the same. That exotic tilt at the edge of her eyes was not as severe as before and her skin was a trifle lighter in color. Her pupils widened when he took the hard tip of her breast between his thumb and forefinger, rotating it gently.

Her emerald eyes were brighter this time, not as tired-looking. Her face had a little more fullness, and a becoming and healthy blush blossomed on her smooth skin at his caress. This Angelina was full of life, maybe slightly younger.

Still incredibly beautiful. Alluring, he thought as he bent his head to the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply.

Summer and flowers. Home, he thought again before kissing that spot. He nuzzled her neck with his nose, moving upward to rub it along the shell of her ear while he cupped her breasts.

“You are so lovely. So innocent,” he whispered and she swayed toward him, resting her hands against his chest.

“Touch me,” he urged, needing to feel the softness of her hands on him. Wanting to feel her warmth, he quickly parted the flowing fabric of her blouse, exposing more of her flesh.

She grew reticent then, pulling the gaping fabric closed to hide her breasts beneath the flimsy bra she wore. He recalled then what he had not known at the time.

This Angelina had been a virgin the first and only time he had taken her.

During all of their earlier encounters over the week before this Christmas Eve, marvelous intense