Free Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampire Legacy) by Sharon Hamilton Page B

was about to count his eyelashes but removed her gaze from his face and instead counted the tufts of carpeting at her feet. It would be impossible to savor him like she’d planned. Her need for his blood was making her ravenous.
    And horny as hell.
    He held out his hand, palm up.
    “Excuse me?” Anne scowled at his impropriety. “I’m not going to sit here and hold your hand. I am still a married woman.” She was beginning to convince herself some of what she said was true. There was safety in having him think she was married.
    “Give me your hand, Anne. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, ever. You know this already.”
    “No. You promised you would behave.”
    “I am behaving. This is me behaving, believe it or not.”
    “Then I would hate to see you when you misbehave.” Anne knew it was a ridiculous statement. “Don’t say a word.” She warned.
    He chuckled behind a smile.
    She looked around the room for help, or for any distraction to the steadfast gaze he was flooding her with, a gaze that made all of her sensitive body parts tingle. She sighed. “Oh, alright. Here.” She stuck out her hand.
    He took it quickly, held it in both his, warming her cool, sweaty palm. His fingers massaged and kneaded her knuckles. His touch released tension like he knew exactly where she was stiff, like he knew every sinew and muscle of her. His hand was twice the size of hers. She could imagine those fingers working at the tops of her shoulders, down her spine. Other places.
    God help her. His touch made her feel wonderful all over.
    “Anne, like I said yesterday, I have waited for you a long time. Over three hundred years.” He gave a little squeeze to her hand. She took it to mean he knew it was a bit much to take in.
    And it was. Anne looked at her fingers, which had become intimately entwined with his. His eyes were pure golden brown now, tethering her to him in some ancient way. Part of her screamed to run for safety. The newer part of her kept her glued to the chair.
    “You going to explain this? Don’t you think I deserve it?”
    “Forgive me. I thought that perhaps . . . well, I wasn’t sure how you would take this news.” He bent and kissed the backs of her fingers.
    “You mean if I believed your story, which I don’t?”
    “Search your soul.” Those three words felt as intimate as if she was standing in front of him naked. Did he know what was inside her soul? How?
    She’d been wondering if she indeed had a soul, with all the changes coming at her so fast these days. Maybe he would have some answers. Curiosity was beginning to out-position hunger in the war for her attention.
    “So, who am I . . . to you?”
    “You are my fated female.”
    Fated female! What the hell is that? Like I’m born and bred for him? Like I belong to him? No. This isn’t happening.
    “Why are you so thick-headed? I have told you at least three times, I am married.” The more she said those words the more ridiculous they sounded, but her protestations didn’t seem to stop him. “And what does this mean, fated female?”
    A couple of students reading at the next table looked up. Her voice had carried. Anne pulled back her hand and refused to look at him. But she did want to know what he was dying to tell her. She knew her life would never be the same after this conversation.
    “I know what you are, Anne.”
    And there it was. “I asked you before, how do you know my name?”
    “I told you yesterday, I know you.”
    “But I don’t know you.”
    “Then I will formally introduce myself. I am Marcus Monteleone.” He nodded his head carefully while lowering his eyes.
    Something fluttered inside her chest at the sound of his name. “I’m Anne B—um, Morgan. My maiden name is Morgan.”
    “Yes. Nice to meet you, Anne.”
    “This doesn’t answer any of my questions. What is a fated female?”
    “Do you want to continue here, or—”
    “Here is fine. Please continue.”
    “You have undergone a recent change. I