Escaping The Beast: A Darkhills Romance (The Darkhills Series Book 2) Page 9

  He didn’t regret his sexual advances, he knew she was feeling the same way. He saw her eyes dilate with hunger, could hear her pulse quicken, and the scent of her arousal had been a drugging aroma that had woven its way into his senses in the most delicious way. But then something had happened and she’d closed herself off from him, locked her fire away leaving him feeling cold and empty. He needed to know why, the last thing he wanted was her to close herself off even further, she was guarded enough as it was.

  He stormed out of his room and went to hers, he needed to apologise and check she was alright. When he got to her room he found a note left outside her door on a silver tray. He picked it up, thinking it was for him, only to be surprised when he found the short message of thanks addressed to Mr. Jones. Lucian cocked an eyebrow in surprise, her elegant hand had ended the note with a small kiss. It seemed she wasn’t argumentative with everyone.

  The thought stung for a moment as he realised he was envious of that innocuous little cross on the paper.

  Ignoring his foolish jealousy, Lucian entered her room and immediately skirted to the side of the door away from the crack of light that was coming through the slight opening in the drapes. His eyes stung fiercely as he almost blindly moved towards the curtains and pulled them closed, mindful to keep his hand out of the light. He breathed in the darkness that now surrounded him and kept his eyes shut while he allowed them a moment to recover from the damaging daylight. He wondered if he should consider having the same ultraviolet filters installed here as he had in his penthouse in the city.

  After the pain had subsided, Lucian stood and looked about her room, she had already spread out her books and had her laptop set up on the small writing desk. He looked at the way her things were spread out and made a mental note to order her a larger desk, she didn’t have the space she needed for the way that she liked to work. He looked again at the cream coloured upholstered chair and frowned. It was most likely not comfortable enough for her to sit for long periods of time. He would order her a more suitable office chair, and a larger screen to connect to her laptop. Her studies were clearly extremely important to her and he would ensure she had everything she needed to be able to continue with them while she stayed at Tumbricane.

  A pink sticky note caught his eye on the edge of her laptop screen. It appeared that she had a presentation to give next week. Lucian felt guilt weigh heavy in his stomach. She would want to go. He sighed. She hadn’t mentioned it to him, perhaps that was the main reason why she wanted to be able to return to the city, not just to collect her things. He couldn’t take the risk of letting her leave. If her father knew she was free from the contract, he would have no incentive to repay his debt.

  Either Katherine would ask him again if she could leave, or she would try to run again. Lucian knew he was going to end up hurting her by denying her and he already dreaded the moment when she would slip further away from him. But there was nothing for it. He couldn’t bring it up with her now, in entering her room to apologise to her, he had inadvertently invaded her personal space, something that she clearly cherished highly and she would not be happy with him for doing so. Then again, she was already unhappy with him.

  No, it was better that he wait for her to bring it up or make her move, he hoped she would trust him enough to speak with him about it. She had agreed to have dinner with him later, perhaps they could discuss it then. In the meantime he would do what he could to win her trust, perhaps with the right equipment she would be able to give her presentation by video link.

  He pulled out his phone from his pocket and quickly placed an order for the office equipment she would need. He paused and looked around the room once more, in case there was anything that he had missed, his eyes landed on the vase of white roses that he had left in her room before her arrival at Tumbricane. There, among the white were the single lavender and yellow roses that he had selected for her. Hope spread through him in a warm wave. Maybe she did hold some feelings for him, other than the obvious anger and lust. Tomorrow he would give her another white rose, for honesty. He had promised her that and he would stay true to his word.

  As he left the room and closed the door behind him, he pulled out his phone and added another item to his next day's delivery. She had asked for a lock to her room, he would have Mr. Jones fit it for her tomorrow. Katherine’s note with its little kiss stared up at him from the ground, mockingly.

  On second thoughts, he would fit it for her himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Katherine

  Katherine perused through her clothes, considering what was appropriate attire for dinner with the Lord of the Manor. She had showered after her much-needed run earlier and hung out in her bathrobe while she started working on her presentation. But now the sun had long set and her stomach was making its complaints. She had no idea what time Lucian intended for them to eat, but she was hungry so she had decided to sneak down to the kitchen to see if she couldn’t grab a quick snack from Mr. Jones before meeting with Lucian.

  Going by the fact that she had only seen Lucian out of formal wear when he’d been sleeping, she guessed that leggings and a hoodie wouldn’t be suitable attire. The stubborn part of her wanted to act the slob just to stick the proverbial two fingers up at him, but her rational side also knew she needed to keep her cool. He riled her too easily and she needed to reclaim some of her calm that she had presented when she had first negotiated the terms of their agreement. Indifference was what she was going for. Detached and unaffected. They both knew she was by no means unaffected by him, but for a change she wanted him to be the one to lose their cool.

  She pulled out a form-fitting, lace-sleeved dress in navy blue. It fell to her knees and its simple design was sleek enough to accentuate her curves, but not obviously intended to be anything other than professional. Her sky scrapper heels would give her the inches she needed to be able to almost look him square in the eye and tonight, the red lipstick would be out. She meant business.

  She wasn’t going to ask him if she could return to the city to give her presentation in person, not that night anyway, especially after their earlier argument. Lucian was still clearly of the opinion that the terms of their contract couldn’t be wavered for any circumstance. But she would win him round, starting with being her most charming and respectful self. He needed to be reminded that she was a woman with whom he could do business, not just a woman with whom he fought and fucked.

  She squeezed herself into the dress and adjusted the tight material so that it sat just right, then set about straightening her hair and applying her make-up. Once the red lipstick was on, she slipped into her heels and stood to inspect her reflection in the full-length mirror. She looked good; like she had it all together. Katherine lifted her head and drew her shoulders back and plastered on a smile. The fierce and confident woman in the mirror smiled back at her.

  She was going to own his ass.

  She’d keep things polite, show him that she could play nice and, vampire or not, let him know she wasn’t intimidated by him. Katherine twisted in the mirror and checked out her curvaceous silhouette. She smiled smugly. She’d also most likely make him drool. Too bad he wasn’t even going to get a taste.

  She let out a deep breath and strode from her room. The great hall below was lit by huge sconces that lined the walls and now hosted a large table with two place settings arranged down one end, but there was no sign of Lucian. All the better for her to sneak into the kitchen and grab something to eat first, so she didn’t feel the need to stay for the duration of their meal if she didn’t want to.

  She descended the stairs and followed the basement corridor until she came to the kitchen, her heels making satisfying clicks as she strutted along. Peering inside she found the room empty. She regretted that she wouldn’t get a chance to speak with Mr. Jones. Their interaction earlier in the day had played on her mind and she wanted to have the chance to perhaps bond with him a little, maybe even gain a friend.

  Regardless, h
er stomach was empty and she was determined to satisfy it. She strode into the kitchen and began opening the cupboards, searching for something quick to eat. She’d settle for another peanut butter and jelly sandwich if she had to. She was about to open a large pantry door when something caught her eye. Katherine inwardly cursed when she realised a smart suit jacket was slung over the back of a barstool in the corner. A sound from the walk-in chiller made her spin and turn on her heel. She did not expect him to be there. If she was quick enough she’d be able to avoid being caught.

  She wasn’t quick enough.

  “Katherine? I wasn’t expecting you so early.”

  She spun back to face him, no point trying to run now.

  “Lucian, sorry I didn’t realise you’d be in here, I thought the place was empty,” she frowned when she took in his appearance, his arms laden with ingredients, “were you cooking? I thought you didn’t eat anything other than blood.”

  He blinked for a moment, his eyes giving her the quickest once over that she’d ever seen, but it was there nonetheless, as was the slight bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

  “I was about to begin and you’re right, I’ll be sticking with my usual diet this evening,” he replied as he continued on his path and placed the ingredients onto a work surface near the stove.

  “I thought Mr. Jones would be preparing dinner,” Katherine had to admit, she was taken aback, she did not in a million years peg Lucian as a home cook. Especially considering he was a vampire.

  “Mr. Jones is proficient at a lot of tasks but cooking is not his forte. I was going to prepare balsamic glazed chicken served on a bed of lightly tossed leaves and roasted potatoes. Is that something you would enjoy?” He asked placing his hands on the surface in front of him.

  “I, well yes, yes that sounds delicious but that is going to take a while and honestly you are just cooking for me, so you really don’t need to go to so much effort,” she stammered.

  She couldn’t remember the last time someone cooked for her, other than when she was a paying customer. Her mother used to sometimes make her ‘hot dog surprise’ when she was little. The surprise being there were no hot dogs or often it was served stone cold as they hadn’t paid the gas bill.

  “Not at all, it would be a pleasure. Please, take a seat,” Lucian gestured to the barstool before rolling up his shirt sleeves.

  “Erm, OK,” Katherine hopped up onto the barstool and tried not to fidget. It felt awkward to watch someone cook for her. Admittedly Lucian seemed to know his way about the kitchen but she found that she did not enjoy being catered to like some lady of the manor. Especially when the person doing the work was the actual Lord of the Manor.

  “OK,” she announced as she jumped down from the stool and strode over to him, “What can I do?”

  Lucian glanced over his shoulder at her from where he was preparing the chicken.

  “Am I not preparing your meal to your liking?”

  “No, you are. You really are, I just, this feels awkward.”

  “I assure you, Katherine, I do not mind cooking for you, truth be told I rather enjoy being in the kitchen.”

  “OK, so keep cooking but just, please give me something to do,” she wrung her hands in front of her.

  “Would you like some wine or to select some music to play?” Lucian asked.

  “No, I just,” she looked at his dark eyes and took a deep breath, “people don’t cook for me Lucian, I’m not used to having someone take care of this sort of thing for me. It makes me feel really uncomfortable. I’ve been self-sufficient for practically my whole life so please, can I just chop or stir something?”

  Lucian stopped what he was doing and strode over to the sink and began washing his hands. Katherine cursed her stupidity as he began untying the apron that he wore. She’d managed to insult him. Her plan to win him round had backfired, all because she couldn’t deal with someone being nice enough to cook her dinner.

  “Lucian, I’m sorry,” she began as he approached her, only to freeze when he reached over her head and looped the apron around her neck.

  “Turn around,” he instructed, then proceeded to tie the strings at her back, “could you peel and cut the potatoes while I finish up with the chicken?”

  She breathed out a sigh of relief and accepted the potatoes that Lucian handed to her before he crossed the kitchen and delved into the fridge.

  She smiled as she selected a chopping board from the rack and rummaged in a drawer for the peeler and a suitable knife. When she looked up, Lucian had placed a glass of cool, white wine in front of her, along with a small bowl of olives.

  “If you thought I hadn’t heard your stomach growling, you were mistaken,” Lucian smirked at her. “I suggest you chop the potatoes into small pieces, they’ll cook quicker that way.”

  “Yes, chef,” she replied with a mock salute.

  Between the two of them, the potatoes and chicken were in the oven in no time. Katherine wiped down the work surface before leaning back against it and popping a couple of olives in her mouth.

  “Thank you for letting me help,” she said as Lucian put the finishing touches to a plate of fresh salad leaves. He turned and rinsed his hands in the sink before coming to stand in front of her.

  “Oh sorry, Lucian, your shirt,” she pointed to a few dark spots of balsamic that had splattered on his white shirt, “you should’ve kept the apron.”

  He glanced down at himself and waved a hand dismissively.

  “Better my shirt than you risk ruining your dress. You look lovely, by the way.”

  “Thank you, well I’m pretty sure I did look lovely, I’m not sure the apron goes with the look, but it served its purpose,” Katherine, shrugged with a smirk as she removed the coverall and folded it neatly.

  “Your beauty is not so fickle as to be dependent upon the clothes you wear, Katherine.”

  Katherine blushed fiercely. Damn, he was good.

  “Well, thank you, Lucian, that’s very generous of you. I could say the same about you,” she smiled at him.

  “I had still better go change,” he smiled back.

  “No, please don’t worry about it, it doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”

  He held her gaze for a moment before nodding his agreement.

  “Very well. Would you like some more wine while we wait for your meal to cook?”

  Katherine shook her head.

  “I’m not much of a drinker. A lifetime of watching your parents overdo it, instils a certain appreciation for moderation,” Katherine placed her glass down and stepped forward. “Do we have time to get some air?”

  “Of course, have you had a chance to see the meadow or if you wish I could take you up to the top deck of the observation tower, there is a good view of the chasm.”

  “I’m not exactly wearing the right footwear for a stomp in the meadow,” Katherine lifted one spiky heeled foot in a demonstration, “could we visit the courtyard, with the roses? I can’t figure out how to get in there, but it looks pretty.”

  “Of course,” Lucian offered her his arm, “it’s only accessible via my private suite, but I’ll show you the way so you can visit it whenever you like.”

  “Is it a private garden? If you’d rather I didn’t-”

  “It can be viewed from most rooms within the main mansion, it’s by no means private,” Lucian waved his hand to dismiss the notion.

  “And yet no-one can enter. People can see the beauty but it remains out of reach. Why does that remind me of someone?” Katherine teased, thinking the garden was the perfect metaphor for the man by her side. He was alluring in every sense of the word and yet, he liked to hold the power by keeping people at arm's length and maintaining control.

  “I could say the same about you, Miss. Daxton,” Lucian replied as he swept the tapestry aside and led her up the stairs that led to his private quarters.

  “Oh so we’re back to formalities, very well Lord Nightingale, I’ll admit I can be a little guarded,
but it’s not without good reason,” she countered as she waited for him at the top of the staircase.

  “I do not doubt it. However, it’s not always necessary to keep things out of reach,” he suggested as he offered her his arm once more.

  “Says the man who lets everyone look at the pretty roses but doesn’t let them touch.”

  “You have some in your room.”

  “Ah but you controlled that. You decided which ones I could have.”

  “I suppose. But I am allowing you access now,” Lucian made a gesture with his hand and the doors to his suite and to the balcony beyond swung open.

  “How do you do that?” Katherine gasped.

  “It’s a vampire trait, not all vampires have the ability but it is not uncommon,” Lucian explained, “sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Does it work on other things or just opening doors?”

  “I can move most things with my mind, within reason. The more animate or heavy the object the more strenuous it becomes.”

  “That’s a neat trick to have,” Katherine replied, trying to keep any hint of awe from her voice or expression. She had already complimented him on his appearance, she didn’t want the evening to turn into an ego-inflating affair.

  "How old are you? Am I allowed to ask that? I'm sorry if I'm being rude,"

  Lucian smiled kindly, "not at all, age is just a number, it doesn't bother me. I was born in 1781, in the East of England."

  "Two hundred and forty years old..." Katherine tried to conseal her surprise, "that's... is that particularly old for a vampire? I have no terms of reference."

  "There are vampires younger than me, and there are those who are older," Lucian shrugged then grinned at her, "I'm not that much of an old man, if that's what you're asking?"

  Katherine laughed. He certainly didn't look like an old man, he might have the charm and manners of someone from a past generation, but he moved and behaved like a man in his prime.