Briefly, Von Krolock wondered how it was possible that a woman could become any more endearing. Already so hardy and resolute, her utter lack of fear in the presence of some of the oldest surviving vampires in Europe was captivating.
“Herbert does have his ways,” he murmured, merging out of nothing behind her chair so silently that he doubted she had even realised he was so close. “An interesting choice of book.”
There was absolutely no trace of innocence in the girl’s face. “I like magic,” she said without preamble. “Buffy used to try and hide the books from me, but when you live with two witches, there are only so many books you can hide in a locked trunk.”
“And how long did that trunk remain locked?” he murmured silkily, leaning over her shoulder. He felt her start at the sight of his hand laid on the table beside her arm, heard her pulse accelerate.
“Uh... not very long...” she whispered.
Her eyes were no longer on the book, of that he was certain. So, Herbert had been correct? It seemed it was becoming habit.
Tilting his hand, he traced his fingertips against the back of her pretty little hand, so warm that he was sure she would scorch him. He heard her draw a quick breath and her heart seemed to leap, fresh blood beating through her veins rapidly.
Under his hand, her hand turned over and she slid her fingers between his.
“Got something for you,” she murmured, tilting her head and shaking her hair aside.
Lifting his other hand to drag the last trailing locks away, a smile curled his lips at the sight of a collar of jet-black silk bound around her lovely throat.
“Exquisite,” he murmured, brushing his fingers against it, revelling in the tremor that ran through the girl. Lowering his head, he placed a kiss against the sensual cloth, feeling the near-buzz of her heartbeat through it and her skin.
Her head rolling back on her shoulders, she uttered a faint, almost desperate gasp, her hand tightening against his.
Drawing his lips from her, he gazed down at her upturned face, brushing his knuckles to her cheek. There was no question of her allure but she had none of the naivety of some of his earlier lovers. She knew what he was, what he could do, yet here she was, before him, willing and trusting.
Re: Further hallway conversation...
Briefly, Von Krolock wondered how it was possible that a woman could become any more endearing. Already so hardy and resolute, her utter lack of fear in the presence of some of the oldest surviving vampires in Europe was captivating.
“Herbert does have his ways,” he murmured, merging out of nothing behind her chair so silently that he doubted she had even realised he was so close. “An interesting choice of book.”
There was absolutely no trace of innocence in the girl’s face. “I like magic,” she said without preamble. “Buffy used to try and hide the books from me, but when you live with two witches, there are only so many books you can hide in a locked trunk.”
“And how long did that trunk remain locked?” he murmured silkily, leaning over her shoulder. He felt her start at the sight of his hand laid on the table beside her arm, heard her pulse accelerate.
“Uh... not very long...” she whispered.
Her eyes were no longer on the book, of that he was certain. So, Herbert had been correct? It seemed it was becoming habit.
Tilting his hand, he traced his fingertips against the back of her pretty little hand, so warm that he was sure she would scorch him. He heard her draw a quick breath and her heart seemed to leap, fresh blood beating through her veins rapidly.
Under his hand, her hand turned over and she slid her fingers between his.
“Got something for you,” she murmured, tilting her head and shaking her hair aside.
Lifting his other hand to drag the last trailing locks away, a smile curled his lips at the sight of a collar of jet-black silk bound around her lovely throat.
“Exquisite,” he murmured, brushing his fingers against it, revelling in the tremor that ran through the girl. Lowering his head, he placed a kiss against the sensual cloth, feeling the near-buzz of her heartbeat through it and her skin.
Her head rolling back on her shoulders, she uttered a faint, almost desperate gasp, her hand tightening against his.
Drawing his lips from her, he gazed down at her upturned face, brushing his knuckles to her cheek. There was no question of her allure but she had none of the naivety of some of his earlier lovers. She knew what he was, what he could do, yet here she was, before him, willing and trusting.