Vampire Assassin League Bundle Five - Loneliness by Jackie Ivie Page B

an aura of coziness and tranquility. It also led directly to a series of chambers he called the Georgian Wing. He’d had it designed during the American Revolutionary War period, when he’d been portraying an invalided de Crecy. That particular suite of rooms contained not one, but two bedchambers, both with giant canopied beds – a fact he’d tried to pretend didn’t matter.
    The one thing he hadn’t taken into consideration was the salon’s acoustical properties. Wystan cleared his throat and attempted a higher, softer range of voice. It sounded ridiculous even to his ears.
    “Would a...sofa be acceptable?”
    Wystan turned sideways to reveal the room. He’d ordered a fire set. It had finally caught, putting welcome warmth into the space. Directly in its glow was a seating arrangement of cream-shaded, brocade-covered pieces: a sofa, two loveseats, three chairs. There were several French-styled occasional tables as well. Barring the mound of weaponry he’d created, the space still looked inviting and personable.
    “Perfect.” His mate replied. “And...perhaps she could get a comforter?”
    Comforter. What the devil was that?
    “A blanket?”
    She answered his unspoken question.
    “Oh. Yes. I’ll see one fetched.”
    He needed to concentrate on his movements! He was at the door and signaling a servant before the ladies even took a step toward the furniture. He was in luck that his mate wasn’t looking.
    Calm down, Wystan.
    He needed to use slow, studied movements. Employ soft tones when speaking. Keep any lustful thoughts at bay. Act like a normal man. Mortal. His servant handed him a folded woven blanket. Wystan bent his arms to receive it. Then he turned, took a step, and was back with the ladies with the very next one. The women hadn’t even been seated yet. He’d never failed quite so ignobly before.
    Actually ...he’d never failed at all.
    Wystan’s back straightened as he realized it. This mating thing was beyond control and comprehension. He watched as the Munson woman collapsed onto the sofa. Then she reclined, and before his mate even turned to take the blanket from him, the woman was snoring.
    Snoring?
    Wystan hadn’t been around women. This was the first time he’d heard one snore. His mate spent a bit of time arranging the blanket about her companion, giving him way too much view of her slender waist. Nice-sized backside. He could just imagine what her breasts might look like as that bodice took the brunt of the weight and volume with her movements.
    Damn these wool breeches .
    His mate turned back to him. She’d pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Deep rose shaded the tops of her cheeks. Wystan rocked in place, making the sword blades clank against each other. He was still holding three swords? And he hadn’t even noticed?
    “Um. Thank you. For the blanket...and the help tonight...and...”
    She tipped her gaze to his. A roar of noise whooshed through his ears, obliterating her words. He frowned to make them more audible, and her voice stopped. She looked away from him, giving him a perfect view of her lashes dusting her cheeks. While below that, her bountiful bosom moved with each breath. Framed by ruffles. Lifted. Displayed.
    Tempting...
    She flashed a glance to him and then away again. Toward the fire. A surge of something unbelievably vast hit him, knocking him a fell step backward. He’d never dealt with such a thing. Everywhere he looked and everything he tried, and every place he sent his mind to seemed to contain the same things: Pure, unadulterated need. Massive want. Uncontrollable craving.
    Oh, no.
    His canines were more than tingling. They were elongating, pressing against his inner lip. Nothing he tried stopped it. He wanted her now . Right now. He very nearly reached out and seized her. He wanted her locked in his arms, her curves pressed to him. Her mouth against his. So he could taste. Savor. Devour. He needed his arms and legs entwined with hers. Sans clothing.