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Damian propped himself on his elbow offering up another smile. “You will,” he added when I just stared at him.
The clock display flipped to five o’clock. I couldn’t remember if it was dark at five at this time of year and I wanted to get out of this cave. Tendrils of claustrophobia tickled my psyche and I shifted.
“How long?” I nodded toward the clock.
“Just a few more minutes. I want to make sure there is no more light in the sky.” He rolled off the bed, grabbing the crumpled shirt off the ground and slipped it on. “We need to get you some clothes tonight.”
“You trust me around people?” I asked, thinking about the uncontrollable rush I had earlier when I realized humans were just a floor away. I could only imagine the damage I could do in a crowded store.
“I think you’ll be okay,” he said, but the crease between his eyes said otherwise.
“Really.” I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow.
He smiled and focused on buttoning his shirt, and then he crossed to me. “We’ll find out.”
Discomfort made me shift my stance. “I don’t relish the idea of losing control.”
“The constant driving need for blood is a fallacy. The only time a vampire has insane cravings is during the day. That’s why there are so few of us still alive. Most give in and go in search of food and once they step into the sun, bam, they’re dead. I’ve learned that feeding at least once at night makes the daylight hours more bearable,” he said. “Also, a shot of whiskey helps temper the urge.”
I stared at him, his words sinking in and I narrowed my gaze. “You said the teeth only go sharp at night, but earlier when I attacked you, mine came out.”
He grinned and shrugged. “Under normal circumstances, they only come out at night. Last night wasn’t normal.” He reached over and wiped a stray hair out of my face. “We’re vulnerable during the day. Not just from sunlight, but from our enemies. That’s why I brought you here. This is one of the few places Lucifer doesn’t know I have.”
That name sent a flush of fury through me and my jaw tensed. “He is on the top of my hit list.”
Damian laughed at me and leaned real close. “Get in line.”
The menace his voice made me recoil and I stepped away from him.
“Let’s go get you a new wardrobe,” he said and took my hand, leading me out of the bunker and into a beautiful two-story atrium enclosed in glass.
Views of a full moon met us and I sighed, looking around toward the door to our daytime sanctuary. My gaze traveled over an ornately painted wall and I turned my attention back to Damian. “Where’s the door?”
He smiled. “It’s a secret.” With that, he led me outside and pulled a set of keys from his pocket, opening a door to another large building. Even in the darkened enclosure, I could see just as clearly as if it was daytime and I gasped at the site before me.
Damian settled on a specific key and led me to an Aston Martin, opening the door for me. I scanned the rest of the cars and met his gaze.
“I collect cars.” He gave me a half-shouldered shrug and waved me into the Aston.
“But these are rare,” I said, finally finding my voice. He even had a mint condition Benz Motorwagon and a Ford Model T.
“Sweetheart, I was here even before chariots were the bomb.” He pointed to an ornate chariot in the far corner and retuned his amused gaze to mine.
He closed the passenger door and trotted around to the driver’s side, settling in and pushing a button on a remote attached to the visor. The doors slid open and he pulled out into the night, waiting for the doors to close again before speeding off.
When he pulled into the garage at the Stamford Town Center, I raised an eyebrow.
“It isn’t Fifth Avenue, but it’s close and you have your choice of designer shops.”
“I can’t afford this,” I said, waving my hand at the fancy shops. I was lucky to afford Wal-Mart.
“I can. Besides, I can’t have you walking around all day in a bathrobe.”
“I never asked you to do this,” I snapped, his audacity unnerved me.
He smiled. “I know you didn’t.”
“Why don’t you just take me to my apartment and I’ll pack up my stuff.”
His smile vanished. “Because the demons will be waiting for you there and until you learn the ropes, I’m not letting you anywhere near those sadistic bastards.”
“I can take care of myself.” I saw the flash of aggravation in his eyes and the muscle in his jaw jumped. “You’re not my keeper,” I added, pushing his buttons.
He stopped and leveled a glare at me, pulling me close to him. “I am your keeper. I became your keeper when you sank your teeth into my throat last night. You became my responsibility instead of my victim.” He let go of my wrist and stepped away, putting a little distance between us and diffusing the building tension.
I kept my instinctual response to myself, waiting for him to calm down, instead, I studied him under the bright interior lights. His wavy black hair fell in haphazard swirls framing a face that should have been accompanied by angel wings. Muscles rippled under his shirt as he fought the growing frustration. He obviously wasn’t used to a self-sufficient woman.
He rolled his eyes at me.
“Are you in my head again?”
Damian’s cheeks bloomed red and his gaze snapped away from mine. “Just pick out a couple outfits, so we can get out of here,” he said.
I considered telling him to go to hell, but then I thought of another day hanging in his sanctuary with only a bathrobe and his hungry gaze. That clinched it and I turned, stomping into the upscale mall and scanning the store names, unsure of where I should go.
He decided for me, steering me into Saks Fifth Avenue.
I approached a rack of blouses and glanced at one of the price tags. My jaw dropped. Over two hundred dollars for just a simple blouse and my gaze shot to Damian’s.
“Damian, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you spend this kind of money on me. All I need is a comfortable pair of yoga pants and a few t-shirts.” I bit my lip. “And maybe a quick stop at Victoria’s Secret so I can get some underwear.”
He scoffed at me. “Money isn’t an issue. Besides, I’d like you to have the opportunity to wear something dressier than yoga pants when we go out. So, if you won’t choose a few outfits, I’ll choose for you.” He strolled through the store, casually inspecting the clothing displays. When he stopped at a rack with a beautiful blue cocktail dress, one that I secretly envied, he glanced at me, his eyes sizing me up before he pulled one from the group.
“I think that’s your size,” he said and I glanced at the label, nodding. The man had impeccable taste in clothing and when my arms were full, he sent me to the dressing room, taking a seat outside the entrance, waiting for me to model his choices.
I slid the blue dress on and after maneuvering the zipper up my back; I turned and looked in the mirror. While the dress was stunning, it didn’t quite go with my cowboy boots. I smiled at the mismatched combination and strode out to where he sat.