"I have played the mortal for you these many months. I thought in March when you held my na**d body, when you shared blood with me, that it would be a changing point for us. That you would give in to your desire and admit your feelings for me."
A burning wash of color crept up my face. I had no good excuse for the foreplay that got out of hand. I was weak, so sue me. "I gave you blood because you were dying. I'd have never done it otherwise. You know that."
He stared at me. It wasn't vampire tricks that made me want to look away. It was a raw honesty that I'd never seen in his face before. "I know that now, ma petite. When we returned from Branson, you threw yourself into Richard's arms as though he were a lifeline. We continued to date, but you drew away. I felt it and did not know how to stop it."
He sat up on the bed, hands clasped in his lap. A look of frustration and confusion passed over his face. "I have never had another woman deny me, ma petite."
I laughed. "Oh, your ego isn't big."
"It is not ego, ma petite, it is the truth."
I leaned against the bathroom door and thought about that one. "No one in almost three hundred years has ever said no to you?"
"You find that so hard to believe?"
"If I can do it, so can they."
He shook his head. "You do not appreciate how very harsh your strength of will is, ma petite. It is impressive. You have no idea how impressive."
"If I'd fallen into your arms the first time we met, or even the dozenth time we met, you'd have bedded me, bled me, and dumped me."
I watched the truth of my words fill his face. I hadn't realized until this moment how much control he kept over his facial expressions, how it was the lack of reaction that made him seem more otherworldly than he was.
"You are right," he said. "If you had giggled and fawned over me, I would not have given you a second glance. Your partial immunity to my powers was the first attraction. But it was your stubbornness that intrigued me. Your flat refusal of me."
"I was a challenge."
"Yes."
I stared into his suddenly open face. For the first time, I thought I might see the truth in his eyes. "Good thing I resisted. I don't like being used and tossed aside."
"Once you were only a challenge, something to be conquered. Then I became intrigued by your growing powers. I saw possibilities that I could use you to strengthen my position if only you would join with me."
Something like pain passed over his face, and I wanted to ask if it was real. If any of this was real, or if it was only another act. I trusted Jean-Claude to do whatever it took to stay alive. I didn't trust him to tell the truth sitting on a stack of Bibles.
"I saved your ass enough times. I'm your declared human servant. What more do you want?"
"You, ma petite." He stood, but didn't come closer. "It is no longer challenge or the promise of power that makes me look to you."
My pulse was suddenly thudding in my throat, and he hadn't done a damn thing.
"I love you, Anita."
I stared at him, my eyes growing wide. I opened my mouth, closed it. I didn't believe him. He lied so easily, so well. He was the master of manipulation. How could I believe him now? "What do you want me to say?"
He shook his head, and his face fell back into its normal lines. That beautiful perfection that was what passed for ordinary. But I knew now that even this was a mask, hiding his deeper emotions.
"How did you do that?"
"After several centuries of being forced to school your face into pleasant, unreadable lines, you lose the knack of anything else. My survival has depended on my expression more than once. I wish you understood the effort that little display of humanity cost me."
"What do you want me to say, Jean-Claude?"
"You love me a little, that I am sure of."
I shrugged. "Maybe, but a little isn't enough."
"You love Richard a lot, don't you?"