It sounded like an accusation and I wanted to kick myself. Myrna wouldn’t make an accusation, never in a million years. And I didn’t have any right to make an accusation. None whatsoever.
But I couldn’t take it back.
His face went hard. “Leah –”
I waved my hand in the air, trying to undo the damage I’d done as the knife in my belly sliced a painful line straight up to my gullet.
“It isn’t any of my business.” I tried to make it come out airily but feared I failed.
“Leah –” he started again but I began to carve into my fried chicken breast and talked over him.
“You just be you, do what you want, live your life like any vamp would. And I’ll be me and do my job, no troubles for you, no expectations of you. Promise.”
I was looking at my plate, surprised, even at myself, that I’d just let go of the game and came clean.
This was a mistake. I should have kept my eyes on him.
“Your job?” he asked in a silky voice I’d never heard him use before. A voice that was beyond scary. So scary, my eyes shot to his face.
It appeared I’d made some kind of mistake. A bad one.
He was angry. Belatedly, I felt his fury had filled the room and I found it hard to breathe.
I also found myself confused. I mean, it was my job being his concubine.
Wasn’t it?
In an effort to calm his anger, I decided to explain.
“I figured it out yesterday, Lucien,” I told him and, seeing as this was slightly embarrassing, my eyes went to a point over his shoulder, before going back to my plate. I put a bite of chicken in my mouth then looked back to him.
He was silent through this, not eating, his elbow on the table, his wineglass in hand, his eyes scorching into me.
I kept going after I swallowed. “I’d been an idiot.” I thought he’d like that but his face didn’t change. “You’ve been very kind to me, generous with me.” I waved my fork around the kitchen in a lame effort to make my point. “I can’t imagine all vamps are like this and, even if they are, it’s not a bad life. I… I…” I stammered, losing my momentum when his face still didn’t change but I found the courage to sally forth. “I’d been wrong. So, yesterday, when I had all that time to think, I decided I’ll do my job servicing you until you’re through with me. No more fights. No more tantrums. I promise.”
He finally broke his silence and said, “Servicing me.”
I nodded.
“Servicing me,” he repeated.
I nodded again, this time more hesitantly.
“Would you care to explain to me, in detail, what you think your job is Leah?”
I didn’t really care to, and anyway, he knew.
Didn’t he?
“You know,” I told him.
“Explain it,” he said.
My head tilted to the side in confusion. “But… I don’t understand. You know.”
He leaned forward a fraction of an inch, his voice dipped dangerously low, and he clipped, “Explain it.”
“I… you, I…” I faltered then recovered, “I’m available for you to feed and… to… um, do other things, whenever you want.” His mouth got tight and I went on, “And, you know, let you show me off, go with you to places and…”