“I’m a waitress.” Her voice dropped an octave as though she was embarrassed to utter the words.
“And a thief,” Michael remarked. He turned to face her and cocked a brow, his mouth curving into a smile.
Claire returned his smile, hers brilliant as well as mischievous. “I prefer the term ‘hustler.’” She caressed the wristband of his watch and Michael’s chest swelled with satisfaction to see something of his on her body. “Do you think Ronan’s mad at me for stealing his wallet?” she asked with chagrin. “I took it in case I needed some cash. I wouldn’t have used his credit cards or anything. That’ll get you thrown in prison, fast.”
Clever female. Beyond his admiration, Michael could only imagine the hit Ronan’s pride had taken at how easily Claire had managed to steal the wallet. “Why would you need cash?”#p#分页标题#e#
“For a cab.”
She’d planned to leave him. A sense of urgency and loss had brought him from the death-like grip of his daytime sleep. Some inner instinct had prompted him to seek her out. The tether was strong. Unbreakable. Even apart he felt her. Sensed her emotions. Despair sucked the air from his lungs. If Ronan was wrong and she couldn’t be turned, her short human life would be nothing more than hours compared to Michael’s. He would die without her. And so far he’d managed to show how much she meant to him by making her his prisoner. No wonder she’d attempted to leave.
“You’re afraid of me.” It wasn’t a question. Her fear sharpened her scent, soured the floral sweetness of her blood.
“I’m afraid of the situation.” She spun the watchband on her wrist. “And maybe a little of you.”
“You have nothing to fear from me, Claire.” Michael returned to his task, worried that if he kept his eyes on her he’d throw caution to the wind and take her, sink his fangs into her throat again. “I will never harm you.”
“I know that.” The words drifted to his ears on a whisper. “And that’s what scares me.”
Silence descended and Michael resisted the urge to turn and look at her. To reassure himself that she was still there. He found the concept of their tethering difficult to wrap his mind around even though it was commonplace for vampires. If all of this was hard for him to understand, he could only imagine how difficult it was for Claire.
Thirty quiet minutes passed and Michael plated two chicken cutlets and a pile of pasta drowned in marinara sauce for Claire. He set the plate in front of her and poured her a glass of red wine, all the while watching her from the corner of his eye.
She leaned over the plate and inhaled, her eyes drifting shut in bliss. “I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything so good in my entire life.”
A sense of pride overtook Michael, that he could please her, and he slid the glass toward her. “I didn’t take into consideration how hungry you’d be.” He added a tall glass of water next to the wine. “I’m sorry.”
Claire fixed him with a stern eye and pursed her lips. He found her ire adorable. “You should be. I’m still mad at you, Mikhail. I’m just too hungry to worry about it right now.”
He didn’t respond, simply busied himself with his own plate. His heart was barely beating, he wasn’t even sure his body could process food at this point, but he wanted to sit beside her. Partake of a meal with her. Share some sort of domestic moment that might endear him to her even some small amount. At this point, he’d eat a bucket of nails to gain her favor if that’s what it took.
A moan worked its way up her throat as she dug into her meal with gusto. “Oh dear god, that’s delicious,” she said through a mouthful of pasta. “I’d apologize in advance for the unladylike way I’m about to inhale this pasta, but that would take time away from eating.”
She ate like a soldier in the field, bite after bite, her eyes never leaving her plate. Michael’s own fork hovered near his mouth as he watched her, amusement tugging at his lips. “You weren’t joking when you said you were hungry.”
Her gaze slid to the side and she paused midbite. “Three days, Mikhail.”
The rebuke didn’t go unnoticed and her point was taken. He’d have to make amends somehow. “Why do you call me Mikhail?” He knew what the answer would be, but it pleased him to hear it.
“Because it’s your name.” Claire didn’t look at him but gave her full attention to the plate in front of her.#p#分页标题#e#
“My name is Michael.”