After Midnight by Colleen Faulkner Read Free Book Online

tell you, I'm growing a little impatient with that nonsense."
    "We don't have to talk about this."
    "We do have to talk about it. You and I have been so honest with each other in a world that's not always honest. That's what's been so special about our friendship." She heard her voice quaver. "Gordon, the vampire story is getting old."
    He laughed wryly, looking up at the bed canopy overhead. "Old for ye in a fortnight. Think how old it is for me—six centuries."
    She pushed back in her chair, trying hard to be understanding rather than just exasperated. "You really think you're a vampire, don't you?" It sounded so ludicrous to her, just saying it.
    "Emily…" Gordon sat up in the bed.
    It was of course completely inappropriate that she should be in his bedchamber now that he was conscious again, but propriety seemed of little consequence right now. She wanted to understand Gordon and this delusion of his. She needed to understand. "Yes?" she said simply.
    "In a fortnight you'll have to go." He reached out and took her hand again. "I hope I'm not too forward in saying that I've come to… care for you a great deal. And I think you feel the same way about me."
    She felt her heart flutter beneath her breast.
    "Let's just enjoy what time we have left together."
    Her gaze locked with his and she saw that his eyes were moist.
    He did care for her.
    The word
love
floated in her head.
    "I could stay longer," she heard herself say, before she had time to consider her words. "I've no further engagement. I could repair the Shakespearean book of sonnets, if you like." She didn't know what made her so bold except that the thought of leaving Fraser Castle suddenly seemed an impossibility. She didn't want to leave. Not ever. "Without charge, of course," she added, feeling foolish.
    He held her hand with one of his and smoothed it with the other. "I wish that you could stay, but you canna. Ye mustn't."
    "That's right," she conceded, hiding her hurt with sarcasm. "Your anniversary. I wouldn't want you to drink my blood or chew the bones from my flesh with your canines."
    The pain that she saw flash in his dark eyes made her wish she'd not said that. The truth was that it didn't matter what she believed.
He
believed he was a vampire, and more importantly, he believed she would be in danger if she stayed. He thought he was protecting her by sending her away.
    "I told ye, I do not eat human flesh," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
    She wanted to argue the point, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Maybe Ruth was right. Maybe believing one was a vampire
was
a minor transgression in such a fine man. If only his belief was not so strong that it threatened to keep them apart. But perhaps there was still time to change that. "All right. You're right," she said, listening to her heart instead of her head for once. "So I have to go in two weeks. We can enjoy each other's company until then."
    "A fortnight," he said huskily, lifting her hand to his lips.
    She watched, mesmerized. He didn't kiss her hand, just drew his warm lips over the back of it. A tremor of what could only be sexual desire ran through her. She wished that he would kiss her hand… her mouth.
    Emily pulled her hand away, suddenly unsure of herself. Of Gordon. What
was
that strange light in his eyes?
    Gordon lay back on the feather bolster and pressed his hand to his forehead. "Ye should return to your chamber; it's late."
    She rose from the chair, feeling a little unsteady on her feet. A chill overtook her that she couldn't shake.
    She grabbed her book. For the first time since she came to Fraser Castle she wondered if she should be afraid.
    "Angus said that if you need anything, just ring." She pointed to the bell that rested beside his bed as she made her retreat.
    "Good night."
    She had just reached the open door when he called her name. She turned slowly. He sat on the edge of the bed in his nightshirt, casting a strange shadow against the wall that didn't seem to quite