The Vampire Dimitri by Colleen Gleason Read Free Book Online Page B

for her again. Her lips were swollen and glistening, half-parted with surprise beneath the curve of her mask. He blinked, drew in a breath and focused on the roaring pain blazing over the back of his shoulder. A satisfying reminder that he was, despite it all, still in control.
    And still in defiance of the devil’s will.
    Then in an instant her lips allowed a smile to flicker over them and she surprised him yet again when she replied, “No, my lord knave. I think it might be prudent to stop at five.”
    â€œIndeed?” He had to offer her his arm in order to get her back to the dance, away from the temptation of this secluded alcove, and the mere thought of what had just transpired.
    He had some blood whiskey in the coach. That would help steady him, dull the awakened need. Later, he could stir up some trouble in the depths of Vauxhall. He’d had a very satisfactory brawl in St. Giles the night after the Lundhames’ ball, where he’d tossed five blackhearts into the River after they’d tried to stick him with a knife and relieve him of his purse. Never say he wasn’t doing his part to clean up the thieves of London.
    â€œYes, I do believe I shall stop at five,” she replied as they walked along. She wasn’t weaving like she had been earlier.
    â€œâ€™Tis a shame that my fi—my husband’s kisses were never quite so…potent. Perhaps it’s best if I keep this memory as my last random tasting.”
    Dimitri kept his mind blank, refusing to allow himself to absorb her words and the variety of implications therein. He didn’t even need the reminder that she was betrothed. That fact simply didn’t enter into the equation of his base stupidity; his actions had nothing to do with Miss Maia Woodmore in particular.
    It could be any woman who tempted him thus, for he rarely indulged in the pleasures of the flesh. And even then, it was brief and impersonal. No kissing was ever involved.
    â€œVery well, then,” he replied, “Hatshepsut. And here we are, back to the party. I release you to your dances and your subjects, knowing that there is no longer a chance that you might be coerced into sampling the kiss of a highwayman or Romeo or some other character.”
    And then, suddenly eager to be far away from the shimmery golden gown and its well-kissed occupant, Dimitrireleased her arm and slipped into the edge of the crowd, already tasting the blood and alcohol to come, the energy bounding beneath his skin.
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    Maia watched the knave ease into the crowded ballroom, both relieved and disappointed by his flight. Her knees were shaking so badly she could hardly stand, and her lips felt as though they were twice their size.
    They still tingled when she slipped the tip of her tongue over them, and she felt a shaft of tingling heat when she re-imagined the kiss.
    How could I have been so foolish? What is wrong with me?
    But she already knew the answer, and once again, Maia was blessedly grateful for the mask that obliterated most of her features, and the other aspects of her disguise. The drink, along with the heady knowledge that no one could know who she was, had turned her into the same sort of capricious young woman who’d nearly gotten herself ruined three years ago.
    Thank God that He, or Fate, or something, had intervened and brought Corvindale onto the scene before she’d made a foolish mistake with Mr. William Virgil. Only, she wished even more fervently now that it had been anyone but her new guardian who’d saved her. The details of that night were so very vague and foggy, but one thing she did recall with absolute clarity was the earl’s furious, dark eyes.
    But that was three years ago…what was wrong with her tonight?
    Hadn’t she learned her lesson?
    Yet, while she knew part of the reason for her capriciousness was due to perhaps too much champagne punch, there was the fact that she’d been so rigid, so perfectly