Instead he told her, “Last night didn’t go as I planned.”
He watched her press her lips together in an effort to bite back her own words.
“You made it get out of hand, pet,” he said quietly and her brows shot up as she reflexively pushed against his chest, again to no avail.
“Me?” she snapped when she’d stopped pushing.
“You,” he returned.
“How was I responsible for last night?”
“You got too excited.”
“Too…” she paused and repeated, “too...” Then she made a strangled noise, unable to continue.
His hand slid further up her back, caught a lock of her hair and he started twisting it around his finger.
“You wanted me,” he murmured and she swallowed.
“Did not,” she whispered her lie.
“You did, I smelled it.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Lucien decided that was his favorite of Leah’s many expressions.
“My senses are far more acute than yours,” he explained.
“I know that.”
“So you know I could smell your excitement.”
Her eyes slid away and she muttered with embarrassment, “I didn’t know that.”
He found he was surprised at her embarrassment, delighted but surprised. Even so, he sought to alleviate it.
“I wanted you too,” he told her softly.
Her eyes slid back fleetingly, he saw pink rise in her cheeks and he heard her heart trip over itself. Then she moved her gaze to study the arm of the lounge.
His arm gave her a squeeze at her waist. “Look at me, pet.”
She hesitated and then did as he commanded.
“Vampires are human,” he informed her and instead of her lips parting, her mouth dropped open and she gaped at him. He continued despite her astonished reaction. “The theory is, we mutated from homo sapiens a long time ago. As the millennia passed, we developed necessary traits, instincts, abilities for our survival and for the survival of the species that would keep us alive.”
She continued to stare at him then whispered, “You’re human?”
“A kind of human, yes, the immortal kind.”
“It’s not dark magic?”
He shook his head and said, “No.”
“Supernatural?”
“No.”
“Paranormal?”