Even if for only one feeding, that mortal was his and his alone and, in any way the word could be defined, he didn’t share.
And lastly, Leah didn’t know what he was risking for her. To have her in every way meant he was challenging his culture, his people’s way of life and hers and putting his own life at risk.
Even though he had to admit all those things, the simple fact of the matter was, she hadn’t asked.
Not a single question.
She instantly thought the worst of him, judging him through the acceptable behaviors of her own culture, never considering there might be a difference in his.
Not only that, he had saved her from Katrina’s attack, which would have been deadly.
He had also, very blatantly, shown his preference for Leah over his own mate. This was not something she could know was completely unheard of in the vampire realm but any woman of his experience would have had a vastly different reaction to Leah’s.
Not to mention, with all of this, in addition to his clothes in her closet, his body in her bed, the rather luxurious roof over her head and opulent wardrobe he had provided her, he had made it abundantly clear she had his continued protection, his undivided attention and his profuse generosity.
None of which, considering her reaction, seemed to penetrate that obstinate f**king brain of hers.
It was high time, Lucien decided, that Leah learn these important lessons.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Cosmo said, appearing at his side, smiling at Lucien and taking him from his thoughts.
“I could say the same,” Lucien replied. “This isn’t normally your scene.”
Cosmo murmured, “Vodka, rocks,” to the bartender and turned his attention back to Lucien. “It isn’t yours either.” Then he looked around while asking, “Where’s Leah? Is she in the restroom?”
“She’s home,” Lucien answered and Cosmo’s head swung to him.
“Home?” he repeated.
“Home,” Lucien stated firmly. “She’s having some difficulty adjusting to her new life. I’m giving her space to sort herself out.”
Cosmo threw his head back and burst out laughing. Lucien watched his friend thinking that not the first damn thing was funny. Cosmo’s laughter became chuckling as he paid for his drink and took a sip.
“You’re losing your touch, my friend,” Cosmo noted, his eyes scanning the crowd also unseeing, his attention was on the conversation. “It’s been a whole week. Back in the day, within a week, you’d have them gagging for it.”
“Perhaps, considering it’s been centuries, I’m out of practice.”
“Perhaps?” Cosmo was still smiling broadly. “Or perhaps you’ve met your match.”
“She’ll break,” Lucien said low, meaning every word and taking a sip from his drink.
And she would.
After he’d heard her weeping and later discovering the shredded lingerie, he had thought she already had, albeit briefly.
Having it confirmed that day that only her game plan had changed had not only been invigorating, it had been a relief.
Indeed, the sense of relief was so strong it was vaguely alarming. It was as if he didn’t want her to break. As if he didn’t want the taming. As if he didn’t want her to submit to his control, instantly acquiesce to his demands, all of which would be for her own good or her pleasure, even though she didn’t understand this. As if he didn’t want to show her that her life, entrusted in his care, would blossom beyond her imagining.
It was as if he wanted things to remain as they were; the constant battles, contests of will and bickering interspersed with her quirky sweetness and immense humor.
Which was absurd.
“Well, how long do you think it’ll take?” Cosmo asked. “Maybe Stephanie and I can place bets. It would be amusing.”
Lucien leaned back against the bar and didn’t answer.
Cosmo was undeterred. “It took you three weeks with Maggie. Do you think Leah will break Maggie’s record?”