“Much better, by the sounds of it. And I asked you if you’d joined the mile-high club, not that it’s really any of my business, although I’ve always wanted to try it. But those bathrooms are so darned small.”
“Oh, that.” A little blush warmed my cheeks. “No, we didn’t do that. Kristoff was hungry and was going to wait for the plane to land before eating, but I figured this would save us time.”
“Uh-huh. So that would explain the lipstick all over his chin and neck?”
My blush cranked up a couple of notches.
Magda laughed and gave my arm a friendly squeeze. “I was just teasing you, silly.”
“I know. It’s just that feeding Kristoff . . . Well, sometimes we get a bit carried away. But you can take it from me that the bathrooms on the plane are, in fact, too small to do anything beyond a little necking.”
She shook her head. “Sometimes it just hits me-he’s a vampire. A real vampire. And he can only exist by drinking your blood?”
“That’s the story. And given his appearance in Vienna, I can’t deny it.”
“He was pretty ragged-looking. He appears to be feeling much better now.”
“I think so.” I resisted the urge to glance behind me at where he was sitting. I took enormous pleasure in just gazing at him, marveling once again at the odd twist of fate that had landed the most handsome man I’d ever met smack-dab in my life. He’d caught me watching him as he dozed just an hour before.
What’s wrong? he’d asked as he sat up, glancing quickly around to find whatever threat was imminent.
Nothing’s wrong.
Then why are you staring at me?
Maybe I like looking at you.
He shot me a look filled with disbelief.
On my other side, with his face plastered against the plane window, Mattias snored away. I made sure he was still asleep before turning back to Kristoff. Oh, come now. Unlike the vampires in stories, you have a reflection, so I know you’ve seen yourself in a mirror, not to mention you’ve lived a good five hundred or so years. Surely you’ve noticed women going gaga over you?
I’ve never had a problem with them, no, he said with a mental shrug. But you put too much emphasis on appearances. Something I believe I’ve had cause to point out to you before.
That was in reference to my appearance. And don’t even think of going there again-I’m willing to admit that perhaps you are different from most men and don’t mind a woman who is on the abundant side of things rather than the anorexic, but we weren’t talking about me. You are really very handsome, Kristoff. More than handsome-drop-dead gorgeous. What do you think of that?
He gave another mental shrug. What do you expect me to think of it? There’s little I can do to change how I look.
For God’s sake, man! I whomped him on the arm. I’m telling you I think you’re sexy as hell! That you make my mouth water just looking at you! That you not only start my engine-you rev it up to the point where . . . where . . . oh, I don’t know any car analogies! You just make me want to fling myself on you!
I knew that already, he replied with maddening rationality. I feel your arousal just as you feel mine.
Argh! I yelled at him.
He had the nerve to look surprised. I am not belittling your physical attraction to me in any way, Pia. It pleases me to know that you are as pleased with my body as I am with yours.
“Oh, you are impossible in this reasonable mood,” I muttered, getting up and stepping over his legs.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me down onto his lap, his eyes glittering with a deep light that had my body tingling in anticipation. I think you underestimate just how pleasing I find you, he said, tracing my jawline with his thumb.
A little shiver went down my back. I leaned forward until my mouth was a millimeter from his. I want a love name.
His eyes widened. A love name?
Yes. Allie has several, it appears, for Christian, although they all seemed aimed more at irritating him than being a pet name. Even that obnoxious Sebastian said his Beloved called him her little cabbage.
Kristoff made a face. His breath was warm on my mouth as I softly-oh, so softly-brushed my lips along his.
I want something like that for you. Somehow the usual ones-“honey,” “sweetie,” and the like-don’t seem suitable. So give me something I can call you.
Kristoff wouldn’t do?
A nickname. I want a nickname.
I have one already. Alec calls me Kris sometimes.
I bit his lower lip.
He groaned into my mind, shifting me slightly on his lap. Since we were in the last row in our section of the plane, few people came back to see me sitting on his lap. Regardless, I didn’t want to start anything we couldn’t continue, so I didn’t explore the reason he moved me a smidgen down his legs.