Until the Sun Falls from the Sky(81)

I didn’t think this was good.

I had momentarily forgotten that men, on the whole, weren’t really fond of shopping, even for books. Big, bad, male vamps were probably seriously not fond of shopping.

“We don’t have to buy books,” I went on hurriedly and his eyes sliced to mine, no longer blank but now broody and intense. Regardless I sallied forth, “We could –”

He cut me off and freaked me out by saying, “I’m sorry, Leah.”

Now, hang on a second.

Lucien was sorry? And he admitted it?

It was my turn to blink.

Then I asked, “What?”

His face dropped closer and his voice dipped lower when he repeated, “I’m sorry.”

I felt my heart start racing and Lucien did too or he heard it because his fingers tensed on my neck.

“You’re sorry about what?” I whispered, finding I was having trouble breathing and finding this was because I wanted to hear what he said next.

“I’m sorry I left you with nothing to do yesterday. I was so angry, I didn’t fucking think.”

I didn’t know what I expected to hear or wanted to hear but whatever it was, that wasn’t it.

Still, I said, “That’s okay.”

His head bent and he touched his lips to mine briefly before he lifted it again.

“We’ll get you some books,” he said softly.

I nodded.

“And I’ll see that the broadband is activated tomorrow.”

I nodded again.

“And, if you promise you won’t attempt to drive to Panama, I’ll give you the keys to the Cayenne.”

Boy, I must have passed the second test too.

“I promise I won’t drive to Panama,” I whispered.

The broody intensity went out of his eyes and he said, “Good.”

“I couldn’t anyway, I don’t have my wallet,” I told him. His eyes went broody intense again. “Or,” I went on quickly, “a map to Panama.” He stared at me and I continued, “Can you actually drive to Panama?”

He studied me a moment, his face softened and his lips twitched.

Okay then. Crisis averted.

Thank God.

“I’d rather you not find out,” he said.

“I don’t really think I want to,” I shared. “Panama isn’t one of my preferred on the run from a vamp locations.”

The lip twitch happened again and his hand shifted from my throat to my cheek then his fingers slid into the hair at the side of my head.

He cocked his head deeper into his hand and asked, “What is?”

“What is what?”

“Your preferred on the run from a vamp location.”

My eyes moved to his naked shoulder (this was a mistake, by the way, he had a nice shoulder but I had to power through it), “I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell you that.”

His body moved when his head jerked back and he let out a shout of laughter. Half a second later, his arms were tight around me and he was hugging me again, his face stuffed in my neck.

“Probably not,” he said against my neck, his voice still shaking with hilarity.

It was time for this to end. I could easily find things to put in my Why I Might Like Lucien Small Fireproof Safe when he was like this.

For instance, how good it made me feel when I made him laugh.

And that, I hated to admit it but it was undeniable, I liked it when he hugged me. He gave good hugs, tight and warm and with him being so big, I felt snugly and cozy and safe.

“I think I’m hungry,” I told his ear and his head went back.

His eyes were still amused when he looked at me and that look had to go in my little safe as well.

He brushed my mouth with his, pulled back less than an inch and rested his forehead against mine.

“Let’s get you fed and take you to town,” he murmured.

Oh hell.

That had to go into my safe too. All of it, the mouth brush, the forehead rest and him taking me to town.

Damn but it was getting freaking crowded in there.

He rolled over me, exited the bed but pulled the covers to, not exposing my lower half at all.

He leaned in, put fists into the bed on either side of me and said, “Take your time, sweetheart. Edwina’s likely gone. I’ll see what I can do about breakfast.”

Then he was gone, zoom, out of the room.

I looked at the clock and noticed it was nearly noon. Then I looked at the ceiling. Then I wondered if Lucien could make breakfast. Then I figured, since he’d lived hundreds of years, during one of those years he’d have to learn how to cook. At least make toast (or something).

Then I sighed because I couldn’t escape it.

If he kept acting like this, there was a big, ugly, gaping flaw in my plan.

This was going to be hard. Really, really hard.

Lucky for me, one of my bad traits would come in handy. I was crazy stubborn.