Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,67

seen him slather on the other and handed it back. Niall grunted his thanks.

“He said the work added to the experiences he brought to his art. Even now, he’ll take the occasional job to see what it’s about. He’s done security, helped build a skyscraper, flew private planes, worked as an apprentice gardener at a big estate for near a year. Even joined a paving crew.”

She couldn’t conceal her amazement. “He’s done manual labor? With humans?”

“Has some great pictures from them as well. The night shots o’ the crew, the lighting over the job, the headlights of cars looking like shooting stars.” Niall chewed, considering. “He never forgets the important details. The faces o’ the lads, sweating, intent on their work, or their eyes wandering, distant, thinking about what they’ll be doin’ when the shift is over . . .”

Despite his dismissal of her origami, Niall was far more aware of aesthetic nuances than he’d first revealed. It was obvious he admired Evan’s work, was intrigued and involved in it. Did he realize how Evan studied him the same way? Last night, she’d seen how the vampire responded to every movement, every gasped word from his servant. They were linked and interwoven, a tapestry three hundred years in the making. It made her heart hurt . . . and long for the same.

Niall moved onto his third helping of bacon. “Interaction with the human world is more common among working-class vampires like Evan. He has a New York art dealer who handles the sales o’ his work, but Evan still stays hands-on with the managing o’ his coin. He has a hell of a sense for knowing when to save, when to spend, and what’s worth the price tag. Though he’ll still get that price knocked down if he can manage it. He’s your lad for the bazaars in Marrakesh.” He winked. “Most of it he sinks into assets and costs—camera equipment, rentals like this, transportation—but he always manages a comfortable nest egg.” He smiled at her. “We might not be rich, but we willnae ever starve.”

He adjusted her over both his thighs then, which snugged her backside right into the heat of his groin. His fingers slipped over her thigh, a casual stroke that risked her choking on her eggs. She put down her fork. “Why did he choose you as a servant?”

While the circumstances of the choosing had seemed to be an off-limits topic, she hoped the why would be safe.

“Not real obvious, is it?” His interested cock stirred, increasing the pressure into the tender pocket between her thighs. His touch moved to her hip, the crease between it and her leg. “You’re not wearing panties, are ye?”

“No, sir.” Her mouth had gone dry, her heart starting to pound faster, especially when he didn’t correct her address.

“Lean back against me, lass, if you’re done with your breakfast.”

As she did, his hand slid between her thighs. When she spread them, he brushed her sex through the skirt. Even as she shuddered in response, he continued on in that same conversational tone, though his cock was getting harder and thicker.

“Not obvious, is it? He does a lot for himself. Doesnae need someone to wipe his arse or . . .” He cut himself off before he said anything else, making her think he was about to say something about what he considered her more purposeless skill sets. It didn’t matter, since she was fighting an unacceptable urge to turn around, straddle him. Curling her fingers over his arm on his waist, she dug into his flesh.

“Aye, ye like sitting spread like that for me. I can smell your sweet honey, lass.” His voice had a husky note, but he kept on, making her more insane. “Even beyond blood and buggering, it seemed he mostly wanted a pack mule, like he said. Nane o’ what he wanted was obvious, though. Not in the beginning.” Niall took a breath.

“When I met Evan, I was married.”

8

NIALL had no idea why he’d said it. Maybe because she was getting more nervous. Her body was responding, but he expected she had no frame of reference for responding to a servant the way she would a vampire. The lass was all about structure. However, typical for a woman, an unexpected bit of knowledge brought her attention back to him.

“Your wife . . . she came with you?”

“No. Here, scoot this way.” He put her in the chair next to him, needing the space for a couple