Crossing the room, she stood beside him and said, “This is a little drastic, don’t you think? I mean, if you no longer want to see me, I’ll survive. You don’t have to flee the country. I won’t stalk you.”
He let out a short laugh that was completely humorless. But at least he recognized her ribbing for what it was.
“I’m not leaving because of you. I’m leaving because of me. It’s time.”
“The club’s only been open a year. It’s not like you’ve overstayed your welcome and people are starting to question why you don’t age.” Wasn’t that one of the biggest concerns vampires had to deal with? “Besides,” she added, “from what I understand, no one really knows you exist. You’re sort of an Internet urban legend.”
He turned away to grab a stack of books on the end of the table. She reached into the box and hauled out five or six slim volumes and set them aside while his back was to her.
“It became very clear to me last night that I have the ability to pretend I’m something I’m not. And that pretense affects other people.”
He loaded up the box, but every time he turned away, she pulled out more stacks.
“‘Other people’ or just me?”
He sighed. “I allowed myself to think I was a man with you last night. Not a vampire. And I hurt you in the process.”
“No,” she said, collecting more books and making a tall pile on her end of the table. “I hurt me. And the truth is, I’ve been doing it since I was a child. A lonely, lost child who wanted to be loved for her, not her music, but who could never find anyone who saw past what she was on the outside.”
“You’ve met a lot of idiots in your life then,” he said with a tinge of anger—for her. He turned back to the box and let out a low groan, finally seeing he wasn’t making any headway filling it, though he’d been packing it for five minutes. He placed the stack of books he held on the table and faced her, an amused look on his devilishly handsome face, despite his obvious annoyance. “You’re not helping.”
She smiled. “Sure I am. The more books I unpack for you, the less work it’ll be for you later.”
“Later?” he asked in his deep, sexy British accent.
As he stared at her, she was momentarily derailed from her mission. He easily stole her breath and made her want to do wild and wanton things to him. She wanted to climb all over his body, run her fingers through his hair, taste every tantalizing inch of him.
Fighting back a sigh of longing, she said, “I have met a lot of idiots in my life. I’ve also been one the vast majority of that time. I envied women like Jane and that was stupid.”
“Yes, it was. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the way you look. You’re exotic and striking and—” He shook his head. “Why are you frowning? Exotic is not a four-letter word, Shana.”
“No twelve-year-old wants to be called exotic, Drake. They want to look like princesses in fairytales.”
He scoffed. “For God’s sake, why would you want to look like someone else?”
That was a good one. She nibbled her lower lip a moment, then admitted, “So I won’t stand out.”
Exasperation tinged his voice. “I’m confused. I thought that was what most women wanted. To be noticed. Not be a wallflower.”
“I’ll take the wallflower.”
“Well, you’re going to have to get over it, love. Because that’s never going to happen.”
She stared at him a moment, recalling that last night, she’d actually found it fortuitous she was so sturdily built. She hadn’t felt like an Amazon walking next to him and she’d been able to enjoy his aggressive lovemaking. Jane never would have been able to take what he had to give if she weren’t a vampire.
When it came to Drake, there was definitely an advantage to Shana’s body type. Surprise, surprise.
As she mulled all this over, he asked in a soft tone, “What happened to you, specifically? There had to have been something that affected you so deeply when you were younger, you couldn’t get over it. And it made you feel as though you don’t belong, that you’re not normal.”
Shana wasn’t ready to divulge something so personal without hearing something personal in return. Jane’s vulnerability had helped her to open up, and now she wanted to know Drake’s.
So she countered by asking, “How’d you feel when you were turned into a vampire? Was it by choice, like Jane? Or did it happen to you unexpectedly—against your will and power—and you weren’t quite sure how to adjust?”