"—and I know you and Roxy are enamored with Christian because he writes books you enjoy, but, no matter what he tells you, there is no such thing as a vampire."
I turned my hands so I could pinch his wrists. "I used to think that too. I thought Roxy was nuts for wanting to come here, but then the visions started, and then he started making midnight visits to me in bed—"
"WHAT?"
"—and I have to tell you, being seduced long distance by someone's mind goes a long way into making a believer out of you."
Raphael stared at me for a minute, as though seeking the truth in my eyes, then let go of my hands so he could rub his jaw. "Joy, I don't know what you've experienced, but I do know it can't be real."
"It is real, Raphael. I didn't know it was him at first—I thought it might be Milos or someone—but then Christian admitted it when we were in his dungeon. Roxy heard him."
"He's bamming you, love."
"No, he's not. I know what I felt! He invaded my mind. He touched me, physically, only he wasn't in the same room."
Raphael's frown deepened. "Touched you how?"
I held his gaze. "As a lover might."
The muscles in his jaw flexed. "He's drugged you. He's drugged you with something to make you see visions and believe he has supernatural powers."
"Oh, God, Raphael, he hasn't drugged me—"
"Baby, there's nothing you can say to make me believe that anyone is a vampire, least of all Christian. A parasite, a psychotic madman bent on seducing you, a poor fool who's deluded himself into believing his stories are real, yes, he's all that, but not a real vampire. They just… don't… exist."
"Well, we're going to have to agree to disagree here, because I know what I know." I stuffed my arms into my coat.
"Damn it, woman, there is no such thing as a vampire!" He grabbed my coat as I stepped into my shoes. I tried to walk past him, but he caught my chin in his hand and tipped my head back so he could fire those amber eyes at me. "This is not arrogance talking, this is not jealousy, it is simply a matter of facts."
I stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if he knew the danger he was putting himself in by being so blind. So stubborn. So determined to not need anyone's help. "I don't blame you for not believing me. I didn't believe it at first either, not even when Christian invaded my head. But it is the truth, and pretending it's not won't make it go away."
"I don't need to pretend to make Christian go away," he growled, grabbing me and hauling me up against his chest. His eyes were dark with emotion, frustration and love and anger all mingled together.
"You're hurting me," I whispered against his lips. He gentled his hold on my neck, then dropped his hands from me altogether, stepping back to release me.
I looked at the man I loved with my heart and soul, and swore an oath that I would not let his stubbornness ruin our lives. He might not want me playing detective, he might not believe that Christian was who I knew he was, but I could, and would, do whatever it took to keep disaster from rolling over us. Slowly I gathered up my things.
"Do you understand what I'm saying, Joy? Christian is nothing to us."
I stood still for a moment, then nodded and turned to leave. Oh, I understood him. The problem was, he wouldn't believe what he couldn't see. I opened the door, curiosity forcing me to stop on the top step and ask, "You know who killed Tanya, don't you?"
He came up behind me, standing so close I could feel the heat from his chest. "Yes, I do."
I looked at my hand on the door latch. "Is it Milos?"
I felt rather than saw him stiffen.
"He's always given me the creeps. Now I know why. I'll see you tonight at the festival?"
"Joy, I don't want you to—"
I opened the door and walked down the steps. Outside the sun was still shining, the men were still breaking down the booths and tents to reassemble on Christian's land. Everything was the same, and yet everything was different.
A warm hand settled on my neck, gently this time, his thumb rubbing away the sting of his earlier hold. I turned and slid my hands under his coat, holding him close, breathing in his wonderful smell. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me just as tightly.
"I won't go near Milos if that's what you're about to order," I whispered, kissing his ear.
"This is not a game, Joy."
I kissed his chin, his obstinate, blunt chin that I loved so much. He still thought I was upset because he wouldn't admit to me what he was really doing with the fair. Silly man. "I know it's not a game."
"If you persist in playing detective, I'll have to spend my time keeping an eye on you rather than proving the murderer's guilt to Bartos. I need this time, Joy. I'm not going to have another chance."