The Red Lily (Vampire Blood #2)(31)

Standing before the mirror, she took some time running a comb through her hair, the waves kinking up as they dried. Her stomach rumbled. She plaited her hair into a loose braid over one shoulder and examined herself. The dress fit her to perfection, and Sienna wondered how Nikolai could've sized her so well.

Feeling fresh and clean, she took herself downstairs, finding the lobby empty. Soft voices from the parlor filtered out to the foyer. Sienna stepped through the door, finding the innkeeper amiably talking with Nikolai, a teapot in one hand. He sat at a small table next to the window overlooking a small square of garden, which was little more than a patch of green with an elm tree at its center, having lost nearly all of its leaves this late in the season.

When the innkeeper caught sight of Sienna, she startled and stepped a little away from Nikolai, a somewhat guilty look on her face.

"There you are, my lady. Please come and have a warm cup of tea."

She upended the teacup that was facedown across from Nikolai and poured a steaming cup as Sienna made her way to them. He rose from his seat and watched her. She thought she was accustomed to the way Nikolai tracked her movements by now, but the heat in his gaze as he followed her from the door to his table nearly buckled her knees.

She sat across from him, her eyes on the tea. He took his seat again.

"I will bring a few refreshments in a moment," said the innkeeper with a smile before leaving them alone, for there was no one else in the parlor.

Sienna unfolded the napkin in her lap, self-conscious at the way Nikolai was staring.

"Thank you for the dress," she said before adding more quietly, "and the other garments."



       
         
       
        

She didn't miss the flare of heat in his gaze, nor did she look away, holding him a moment in electric silence before finally clearing her throat and brushing a hand over her skirt. "It is unique. I've never seen its like."

"Precisely why it suits you."

"It is quite vibrant, though," she barreled ahead, unable to respond to his compliment.

"You belong in red," he said with finality.

She brushed a hand over one sleeve, admiring the hue. She couldn't help but point out the one flaw to his choice of dress. "But there is one problem with such a dress. It will draw too much attention, don't you think?"

He scoffed, which finally drew her eyes up off the table to him.

"Sweetheart, you couldn't be inconspicuous if you tried."

"What does that mean?" She thought herself rather good at blending in.

His sea-blue gaze roved her face and bodice, his eyes reflecting a state of utter contentment at the moment. "You are by far the most stunning creature I have ever laid eyes on. And I have been alive quite some time in order to make such an observation."

She froze, never expecting such words from him. He continued.

"Do you know why people address you as ‘my lady' even though your attire isn't always the top fashion a lady should wear?"

She shook her head. He leaned forward, forearms crossed on the table. "Because you could be wearing a rag, and you could not hide the beauty beneath. Noble and pure."

"There are plenty of pretty peasant girls. Look at Arabelle. I could be-"

"None of them hold a candle to you," he said abruptly. "Your alabaster skin glows and looks so soft, it begs to be touched. Your auburn hair, even coiffed in a simple braid, is fine as silk. Your carriage when you walk, when you sit so still as you are now, denotes a genteel lady of the highest ranking. And your eyes"-he shook his head, a smile quirking one side of his mouth-"you could slay many a man with one come-hither look."

Catching her breath after such a speech, she said, "I would never tempt a man unwittingly."

"Sweetheart, you could tempt the devil to his death if you so chose. I thought you would do so to me last night."

Her teacup froze halfway to her lips. "I'd rather not talk of last night," she whispered, sipping her tea.

"Why not? Was it that distasteful?"

She cleared her throat. "No. It isn't that."

"Having regrets feeding a monster such as me, I suppose."

"Of course not."

"Then what is it?"

Tucking her hands in her lap and glancing to be sure the innkeeper wasn't within earshot, she said in a low voice, "It wasn't proper for a lady to … lose control as I did." 

"Proper or not, last night was perfect, in my humble opinion. Well, almost."

His rain-soaked hair was beginning to dry, a lock of blond falling forward over one eye. The smoldering look he fixed upon her and the intimacy of the parlor beckoned her to be bold. She knew that saying the words she held on the tip of her tongue would be equivalent to laying down a gauntlet before a man who thrived on challenges. But she did so anyway, banishing her grandmother's many warnings to the far corner of her mind. "Tell me how it was perfect."