Nikolai stared at her in wonder, his words sounding more stern than he intended. "Sweetheart, we cannot continue on. It's too dangerous. We don't know how Volkov found us and whether he doesn't have scouts in every town from here all the way back to the Glass Tower."
"It doesn't matter if he does. Surely, we'll need to be more careful, but I won't quit the mission now."
"You could've been killed."
"And so could you," she said with a shrug. "It makes no difference. If anything, it only reinforces the need for recruits now more than ever."
"We're going to Cutters Cove," he said with finality.
"No. We are not. We are completing the mission."
Her back was a rigid line, her chin set at the most stubborn angle. He wanted to kiss her senseless in order to soften her resolve. He could do it. Easily. Especially if he used his elixir. But then he would remove that blaze of passion from her hypnotic green eyes. The woman dulled his wits and his own common sense.
"Well," said Friedrich as if a decision had been made when they were most certainly at an impasse. "How about you both get some sleep and we'll discuss it in the morning? You can stay in the suite next door. No servants but Grant are allowed in this part of the castle. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, my lady." With a swift bow, he ducked out of the room, leaving them alone.
Sienna followed his exit, her brow raised in astonishment. "Castle?"
Chapter Twelve
Sienna lay in the dark. The fire that Nikolai had started for her before he adjourned to his connecting bedchamber had burned down to orange embers, hissing in the grate. Thin floor-to-ceiling windows with pointed arches lined the long wall of the room, moonlight spilling through.
A wall-to-wall tapestry hung opposite the bed, as wide as her entire cottage. Woven with rich colors, the tapestry depicted a lovely scene of a dark-haired woman standing on the edge of a brook. The woman was dressed entirely in the trappings of a lady, except for her bare feet where she dipped a toe in the stream. The look of surprise upon her face, her mouth slightly parted in wonder, gave the innocent portrait a sensual tone.
The ceilings were so high and her bed so large. Even though the room was furnished in lovely feminine touches and the thick brocade duvet was heavy and warm, she felt small and alone. She'd grown accustomed to Nikolai's presence on this journey. It had become her constant comfort. Though he was only next door in the adjoining bedchamber through the suite door, he felt leagues away.
The incident in Lobdell flashed back in frightening display. That horrid vampire, Volkov, didn't seem surprised to see her or Nikolai so far from the Glass Tower. Surely, he had been following them. She'd caught the glint of Volkov's fangs when he smiled, if you could call it smiling. Then the world flipped upside down. She couldn't make out who was hurting who with the primal growls and cries and crunching of bones. And the whole time the fight took place, all could she think was, don't hurt Nikolai. She had feared being taken captive, but she had feared for Nikolai's safety more. The memory of that raw horror punched her in the gut.
A door creaked open, outlining the formidable figure of Nikolai in torchlight from the adjoining room. He shut the door and strode to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only his trousers, his chest bare. He combed a hand into her hair, shaping his fingers to her skull.
"I can hear your heartbeat from next door." His rumble of a whisper softened everything inside her to jelly. "You're anxious. What is wrong?"
"You could hear me through the walls?" she asked in disbelief.
"As if you were sleeping beside me." He brushed his thumb along the apple of her cheek. "There is nothing to be afraid of here. No one will find us at Winter Hill."
"I wasn't afraid of that."
"Then what?"
Pulling her arm from beneath the covers, she placed her hand atop his on her cheek. He stilled.
"I was afraid for you tonight. When those vampires attacked. If they'd hurt you, I don't know what I would've done."
He didn't move. His thumb stopped stroking. Finally, he spoke, his voice as dark as thunder. "You need not worry for me, sweetheart. No harm will come to me. Just as no harm will come to you. I won't allow it. I'll die first."
On impulse, she turned her face into his palm and pressed a kiss at the center where the skin was softer than the callused pads. A sound that was part growl and groan rumbled from Nikolai. Then he tilted her face back toward his.