Chapter 3

 

Emma’s heart leaped into her throat and she let out a strangled scream. She turned and ran. In a haze of panic, she stumbled and went down hard. Pain flared in her ankle and left side.

“Emma?” Bennett’s hypnotic voice slipped over her senses, carrying all his dark powers of seduction.

He would not make her his next victim!

Scrambling to her feet, she plunged forward but pain stabbed her ankle and she collapsed. Frantic, she glanced over her shoulder. He was coming for her. Helpless, a sob escaped her throat.

“Are you hurt?” He sounded concerned, not predatory.

She gathered her courage. Perhaps he wouldn’t kill her with the party only a few steps away. Surely he wouldn’t.

She tried to speak but her voice caught.

Bennett knelt next to her. “Are you injured?”

He reached for her but she shrank from him and scrambled backward. Her words tripped over each other as she babbled the first thing that came into her head. “No, no, I’m just…er…I tripped. I’m perfectly well. My friends are waiting for me. They’ll miss me if I don’t return soon. In fact, they must already be looking for me now. They’ll probably be here at any moment. And my parents. I told them I’d only be a moment.”

Bennett blinked at her frantic monologue and one dark brow rose. “Very well, then we’d best get you back inside.” He held out a gloved hand. It shone pale and cold in the moonlight.

She leaned away, loath to touch a vampire, even one as handsome as Bennett Ashton. “I’m fine; just twisted my foot a bit.” Ignoring the hand, she scooted backward to the edge of a decorative boulder and used it to help her to her feet.

“Why are you being so stubborn? Let me help you.” Without warning, he swooped in and scooped her up into his arms.

She let out terrified yelp and froze.

He made a growl of frustration. “What the deuce is the matter with you? You act as if I’m going to ravage you. Have a little faith in me.”

She sucked in her breath at the uncharacteristic sharpness in his tone. “I’m sorry….I just…you’re so different now.”

“Yes, well, war has a way of doing that to people,” he said grimly.

War, and what else? she wanted to ask, but couldn’t form the words.

Shivering, either from the cold night air or fear of being so close to a vampire, she clamped her mouth shut as he set her down on a nearby stone bench.

He knelt in front of her. “Let me see your ankle. Which one is it?”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll just hop back. I really must return before someone misses me.”

“Emma.” Bennett leaned in and braced a hand on the bench on either side of her knees. “You are not hopping back.”

The sheer animal magnetism of this man she once knew nearly overwhelmed her senses. Her breath caught and her heart thumped in her ears. His black, unreadable gaze drilled into her eyes with such intensity that her mind emptied of all coherent thought except how badly she wanted his arms around her again. In the silvery light, his face took on a mystical beauty. His lips parted, and for a wild, heart-racing instant, she hoped he’d kiss her.

He whispered, “I’ve missed you.” He leaned in and raised his hand slowly toward her cheek.

The touch of death.

She let out a gasp and jerked back. “N-no!”

He stilled, lowered his hand. “Forgive me.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she tried to blink them away. How much she’d missed him. How long she’d prayed for his safe return. But now that he’d returned, more mysterious and more handsome than ever, he was something evil.

“Are you in pain?” he whispered.

A sob built up in her throat, closing off her breath. “Yes,” she managed hoarsely. But not the way he supposed. Her heart tore slowly, agonizingly, in two.

He gestured to her feet. “Which ankle?”

After casting a longing look toward the open ballroom doors, she raised her injured foot. She held her breath as he gently probed her ankle, his touch feather-light, and more gloriously sensual than she’d ever imagined despite his cold fingers.

“It’s swelling,” he said. “Of course, I’m no surgeon, but I’ve seen my fair share of field injuries, and this doesn’t feel broken.”

Her teeth began to chatter.

“Here, you must be cold. Take my coat.”

She leaned away from him. “No, no, don’t bother. Really, thank you.”

He eyed her quietly. “I can’t very well carry you into the soiree. That would scandalize all of London. Shall I fetch your mother and have the carriage made ready? I could carry you through the garden gate to the street.”

“Perhaps I could just limp inside.”

He blew out his breath slowly. “You are as stubborn as ever. Very well; can you stand?”

A part of her wondered why he was helping her instead of making a meal of her. Not hungry? Too concerned he’d be implicated in her death?

Or did he truly still have feelings for her which prevented him from harming her? Perhaps he wanted her but held back because he loved her too much to hurt her. The thought left her in a state of confused excitement. She must have truly lost her wits.

Bracing her feet, she tentatively stood. Pain shot up her ankle, but she tried not to wince. She took a step forward and collapsed the instant she put her weight on the injured foot. He leaped to her side, catching her, and slid an arm around her.

She turned and looked up at him. His eyes were shadowed and unreadable. He smelled of cedar and something earthy. She leaned closer and drew in another breath of him.

A slow smile formed on his lips. “I can’t tell you how often I’ve dreamed of this.”

She froze. “I thought you weren’t going to take liberties.” She winced at the sharpness of her tone. After all, he had been nothing but gallant.

His smile vanished. He led her back to the bench and saw her settled on it. “I’m reluctant to leave you alone out here, but we need to summon a carriage.”

She nodded, her heart melting. Remembering the man he once was, and seemed to still be, she gave him a soft smile and said gently, “I’m sure I’m in no danger here.”

No danger as long as he didn’t try to sink his teeth into her neck, which, oddly, he didn’t seem to be considering. Nothing about him suggested any ominous intentions. Could it be possible she was wrong about him?

A couple strolled by, arm and arm, their voices low, without even glancing at Bennett or Emma.

He let out his breath slowly. “Very, well. I’ll return shortly. Please take my coat to stay warm.”

She smiled sadly, and shook her head. “You can’t go back without it. That would look suspicious. Please just hurry back with my parents.”

He nodded and strode away silently. With his departure came sharp reality. All her wishes would not change the truth. He was a vampire. Whatever doubt she might have had about the creature he’d become was now gone. The bat had resolved that. She’d well and truly lost him—not to war or even disease, but to something so much worse. The loss drilled a hole through her so large she knew she’d never be whole. Engulfed in sorrow, she covered her face in her hands and wept hot, bitter tears.

After a moment, she took herself in hand and dried her tears. She couldn’t mourn what might have been. She had to think clearly. What to do now? She couldn’t very well lure him off alone and try to drive a stake through his heart. She flinched at the image of hurting him. No, she could never do that. Nor could she, in good conscience, let him roam free, feeding off of people, especially those she knew and loved. Confronting him and demanding he leave would only shift the problem to another place where he could harm other people. No, he must be stopped. Somehow.

If only there were a way to stop him without killing him. But then, if he were the undead, he wouldn’t actually be killed. Would he?

It was enough to give her a headache. She pressed a hand to her head. But all she could think of was the way he’d carried her to the bench and the gentleness of his hands.

She let out a low moan. Footsteps neared and she lowered her hand, trying to appear composed.

“Emma?” Her mother’s voice drifted to her.

“I’m here, Mama.”

Both her parents arrived. “Mr. Ashton said you’d twisted your ankle,” Mama said.

Papa added, “We’ll talk later about what you were doing in the garden alone with him.”

“I wasn’t with him, Papa. He came upon me after I tripped and hurt my ankle.”

“Uh-huh.” His tone clearly revealed his disbelief.

Mama wrapped a shawl around Emma. “It’s freezing out here. I’ve never seen such a cold spring. Why, it’s almost summer and it feels like February. We’ve sent for the carriage, dear, to take you home.”

“May I help?” Bennett’s velvety tones wrapped around her with more warmth than the shawl. If only his touch were as warm.

“We’ve already sent for the carriage,” Papa said curtly.

Without showing any signs he’d taken offence, Bennett pointed deeper into the garden. “There’s a garden gate back that way which leads to the street. We could help her out there so we wouldn’t have to go back through the drawing room.”

Papa nodded. “I’m familiar with it.”

Bennett stepped back as Mama and Papa put their arms around either side of Emma and helped her to a stand. She sucked in her breath as she stepped on her sore ankle.

“Lean on me more,” Papa said.

Emma tried to obey, but he staggered under her weight, his poor health leaving him weakened. She limped, trying to hop onto her good foot and sparing her injury, but every motion shot pain knifing through her leg.

“This isn’t working,” she moaned.

“Sir,” Bennett’s voice came from out of the darkness. “If you’ll permit me, I could carry her to your coach. It would be faster and less difficult for all.”

Papa hesitated as if giving the matter some thought.

“Papa,” Emma said gently. “With you and Mama both here, I doubt anyone would raise any brows even if we are seen.”

“Very well.” Papa stepped back and gestured to Bennett.

Bennett stepped in close and Emma’s heart raced but this time, not in fear. He scooped her up and easily carried her toward the garden gate. A laughable feeling of safely enveloped her. Really, she shouldn’t enjoy being in his arms so much. She was such an idiot!

Bennett stepped aside for Papa to open the gate before he carried Emma through. Emma rested her head against his shoulder. This may be their last touch ever; she may as well enjoy it. Their coach waited only a few steps away, the horses stamping in the cold. Bennett braced one foot inside the carriage and set her into a seat. Instead of stepping back to allow her parents in, he snatched a carriage robe and tucked it firmly around her.

In a low voice, he said, “I’m not sure why you’re so intent on avoiding me, but I really wish to see you. May I call on you tomorrow?”

She hesitated, wanting nothing better than to see the Bennett Ashton she knew and loved. Her resistance crumbled and she nodded, a smile pulling at her mouth. “Our ‘at home’ hours are from one o’clock until three.”

He nodded. “I remember. Until tomorrow, then.”

Bennett had no way of knowing if it would be sunny or cloudy tomorrow. He must have become one of those powerful vampires who could tolerate sunlight briefly. Or was he merely counting on the constantly cold and overcast weather they’d had lately?

She nodded. “I look forward to it.”

He stepped back. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. He stood, so confident, regal even, and yet with the faintest desperation in his expression.

After Papa handed Mama in and helped her settle into the seat next to Emma, he turned to Bennett. “Thank you for your assistance and your discretion, Mr. Ashton.”

“Sir, I know it looks bad, but I vow I haven’t touched your daughter, nor did I lure her out to the garden. I simply came upon her when I was out getting some air.”

Papa grunted a reply and got in. As the carriage rolled forward, Emma craned her neck out the window to keep Bennett in sight. He stood watching the carriage leave. She tore her gaze away and leaned back against the seats.

A few moments with Bennett had reawakened all those old feelings, all those old dreams. True, she’d been a girl of fifteen then, but her feelings had been so adult, so lasting, so real. And they were all still there inside her, stronger than ever before.

She let out a breathy sigh. What on earth would she do now?

Heaven help her. She was in love with a vampire.