"But you knew you'd go to jail..."
"Denise." Spade held her gaze. "I had nothing left to lose but my freedom, and I knew after a time, I'd get that back. Yet my father would have surely died in prison. What choice did I have?"
He knew that she of all people would understand, considering how Denise had endangered herself for her family these past few weeks. It was yet another thing they had in common.
She sighed. "So that's why you were sent to jail."
"Didn't expect my sentence to be different than my father's, but Warwick thought it would be grand fun to convince the king that I would be more useful to the crown sent to the New South Wales colonies than just sitting in prison. And on the voyage there is where I met Crispin, Ian, and Timothy."
"And became friends." Her voice was soft.
"Not at first." Spade raised a brow. "Me, the future Earl of Ashcroft, chained to common miscreants who'd no doubt earned every moment of their sentences? I didn't deign to even speak to them for days."
Denise smiled at his deliberately haughty tone. "What broke the ice?"
"After several days of enduring my silent disdain, Ian began to bait me. Said I must have been the bas tard son of a fishmonger born with no tongue, or some such. Finally I informed them all rather snootily that I was Baron Charles Thomas DeMortimer, a nobleman and not deserving of my circumstances. I thought Crispin had been sleeping, but at that, he opened one eye and said, 'DeMortimer, aye? Blue bedchamber, purple drapes, bloody what were you thinking with all those peacock feathers everywhere?'"
It took Denise a second, but then her eyes widened. "Your wife was one of the women who hired Bones back when he was a gigolo?"
Spade laughed. "I was terribly insulted at the time, but the voyage was too horrible to concern myself with that for long. We nearly died on the way to the colonies. Once there, we nearly died again under the overseer. We only had each other to depend on, and I grew to care for them as if they were family."
"Whatever happened to Timothy? I don't think I ever saw him around Bones or Cat."
"He went on sabbatical a long time ago, searching for proof that Cain, father of all vampires, was still alive. In truth, I suspect somewhere along the way, Timothy was killed. None of us have heard from him in over eighty years."
She looked wistful. "I'm sorry to hear that, but at least you, Ian, and Bones stayed friends all these years."
"Sometimes good comes out of even terrible circumstances," Spade said quietly.
Denise looked away. She thought he was referring to Randy, but Spade would be the last person to spout nonsense about looking for the good out of the murder of a loved one. He meant the demon brands that had led Denise to him. They'd both lost loved ones for no other reason than life being cruel at times, but despite that, perhaps they could find happiness again, with each other.
Spade tensed, feeling the encroaching power even before the light tap on his shoulder.
"May I cut in?" Web asked pleasantly.
Denise fixed a polite smile on her face as Spade relinquished his hold on her and she stepped into Web's arms. He wasn't as tall as Spade, so she didn't need to look up very far to meet his cool cobalt gaze.
"Are you enjoying yourself this evening?" Denise asked, playing her part as the polite hostess.
"It's been interesting," Web replied. A smile twisted his lips. "It's not every day a noted Master vampire abruptly decides to move next door...with his human girlfriend."
Even though she had no intention of pursuing Nathanial anymore, Denise wasn't about to let Web harbor any suspicions over Spade's claim. After all, lovers broke up all the time. Her leaving tomorrow didn't have to be seen as anything but another relationship gone sour.
"What's not to love about Monaco?" Denise asked with as much of a shrug as she could manage while waltzing. "And everyone starts out as human before they become something else," she added with a slanted glance upward.
Web chuckled in a way that didn't ease her tension. "You're quick, aren't you? Now I'm even more intrigued."
That was going in the opposite direction than she'd intended. Okay, one shallow, uninteresting female, coming up.
"I just love your girlfriend's purse," Denise said with the proper amount of feminine gushing. "Is it Versace? Versace's my favorite. Oh, well, maybe Gucci, too, but they haven't had anything really good come out lately, you know? And oh, you have to tell me where she got her shoes from. Mine are Escada, but you know, I really think I should have gotten Stuart Weitzman instead. They're a much better bargain considering what these cost..."
A glazed look descended over Web's half-covered face as Denise went on about the inadequacies of different designers, ticking off her list of bests and worsts for purses, shoes, and dresses. By the time the music ended and Spade walked up, Web almost shoved her back into his arms.
"A pleasure," he managed before stalking away.
Spade whirled Denise around so that his back was to Web, a devilish smile curling his mouth as he led her deeper amid the other dancers.
"That was brilliant," he whispered, so close to her ear any observer would think he was just nuzzling her.
She smiled, pleased at the compliment. "I didn't even get a chance to talk about my most and least favorite jewelers," she teased, her voice also just a whisper.
Spade laughed, brushing his mouth across her neck. "Tell me. I promise to be fascinated."
Denise couldn't stop the tremor that went through her at the feel of his lips on her skin. It's only an act, she reminded herself.
Her body disagreed. Heat rose up inside her as Spade lingered, his mouth alternately brushing or hovering over her skin. His one hand still grasped hers in the proper waltz fashion, but his other caressed her back instead of staying at her waist, pressing her much closer than the formal dance dictated.
Denise cleared her throat, mindful of all the people who might be watching.
"Stop, dear. We have guests, so you can't follow through," she said, her voice breathier from his mouth sliding up her neck to her cheek.
"Oh?" His voice was a low growl. "I can if I take you upstairs."
The instant clench in her loins made her gasp. It's only an act, dammit!
"We have guests," she repeated, her voice rougher than her charade dictated.
"They'll manage." Two words, full of promise.
Denise drew back, forcing a smile to her lips. No matter how Spade was affecting her, his actions and this offer weren't real. Spade was pretending, same as actors around the world did for movie love scenes every day.
"Really, don't be such a tease. You know we can't leave yet," she said, this time managing to sound affectionate and chiding at the same time. Just as a normal girlfriend would under the circumstances.
Spade's eyes changed from tiger brown to green in an instant. "I never tease," he replied, each word emphasized. Then he swept her up in his arms, striding off the dance floor.
Chapter Twenty-three
Spade ignored Denise's stunned whisper to put her down. "I thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen," he called out. "Even though I take my leave of you, please, stay as long as you wish. I look forward to seeing all of you again soon."
Denise felt her face flame as Spade carried her past the people in the ballroom as nonchalantly as if what he was doing wasn't outrageous. The knowing laughter by a few of the vampires they passed didn't help her growing embarrassment, either. It was one thing for Spade to act affectionate; another to publicly carry her off in a feigned burst of passion.
The only reason she quit arguing was that she caught Web's speculative look out of the corner of her eye as Spade swept past him. Web was too dangerous to let him become suspicious. After all, Spade had killed Web's dealer, Black Jack, only a few days ago. Web had to wonder who'd done it, and he'd already expressed skepticism at Spade moving in next door with his shockingly alive girlfriend.
Denise kept her mouth shut the whole way up the flight of stairs to the third floor. She didn't say anything even when Spade carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. When he set her down, though, she immediately shoved him back, giving him an annoyed look as she crossed the room to turn on the television. Loudly.
"That was over the top," she hissed, surprised to see Spade right behind her when she turned around. He'd somehow already taken off his mask, sword, and jacket, and was now untying the complicated, elegant knot at his throat.
She swallowed hard. Maybe the costume had been uncomfortable?
"I disagree," Spade replied, drawing the knot free before unbuttoning his shirt so quickly, his hand was only a blur. His eyes were still emerald-green, locking with hers in a way that made her breath catch.
You've seen him take off his shirt before, don't read anything into it, Denise scolded herself, stepping to the side to walk past him.
His arm shot out, bracing against the wall unit and blocking her path. What sort of game was he playing?
"Spade - "
She didn't get the rest of the sentence out, because suddenly his mouth was on her neck, lips and tongue probing her pulse to send a luscious shiver through her. His arm remained where it was, an open barrier she could escape, if she wanted to.
Denise took in a shuddering breath, forcing back the heat that raced below her belly. "Stop it. I'm not like you. That sort of thing affects me even if I know it's fake."
A low laugh sounded in her ear. "It's supposed to affect you," Spade said, biting her earlobe gently. "And at no time have I ever touched you where it's been anything but real."
He drew her mask off as he spoke, his other hand still braced against the wall unit. Two light tugs and her earrings were removed, then Spade took out the combs holding up her hair.
Denise froze, her emotions in a death match with the desire sweeping through her. What had changed his mind about her, she didn't know, but Spade's intentions were clear. She could have him now, and oh, she wanted him. Her body almost trembled with need, especially with Spade's mouth continuing its sultry path down her neck.
But no matter how much she wanted him, she was leaving tomorrow. Was this Spade's going-away present?
"Stop," Denise said, her voice quiet but sharp. "Yes, you're affecting me, but I'm not into mercy screws, casual sex, or one-night stands."
She expected anger, laughter, or a shrug before he turned away, but Spade drew off his shirt instead.
"Did you hear me?" Denise asked, trying not to stare at his pale, muscular chest or that hard, flat stomach with its narrow line of black hair disappearing into his pants.
A brow arched before he bent to tug off his boots. "I did indeed, but none of those apply, so I'm not concerned."
God, he'd be na**d soon. A memory of what he'd looked like in the shower made her fists clench. That throb in her loins increased until it was so strong, Spade had to hear it.
He was beside her again in the next heartbeat, his hands caressing her face, lips so close to hers she could almost taste them.
"There's nothing casual about my feelings for you, Denise," he whispered. His voice deepened. "And I have no intention of letting you go anywhere tomorrow, or the next day, or the next."
His mouth covered hers, swallowing her gasp as he pulled her to him. Spade's tongue probed past her lips in sensual demand, making heat scorch up her spine. She opened her mouth, groaning at the sensual flicks of his tongue combined with the hard feel of his body pressed along hers.
A sliver of fear shot through her when she felt his fangs lengthen, their sharpness grazing her tongue as she explored his mouth. What if they nicked her and he was thrown into a bloodlust again? She hadn't even tried to stop him when he drank her before; it had felt too good. If Spade inadvertently drew her blood while they were making love, he might lose control and end up killing her - and she might not even notice until she woke up dead.
"Wait," she said, turning her head away from his deep, drugging kisses.
He stopped, one hand still tangled in her hair while a cooler draft on her back let her know the other had been unzipping her dress. "Too fast?" he muttered thickly.
The blazing heat in his gaze almost made Denise throw caution to the winds and not voice her concern, but it was a matter of life and death. "Your fangs. Can't you make them...go away so you don't accidentally bite me?"
Spade's laugh was soft and wicked. "Oh, I have every intention of biting you, but don't fret; I won't break your skin."
"What?" she gasped, but he just laughed again. That cool draft increased as he picked her up, her dress somehow in a heap on the floor next to his pants. Denise blinked. How had he gotten their clothes off so fast?
Her breath caught as she felt the softness of the bed at her back in the next instant. Spade crouched over her, completely na**d, so large and so gorgeous, she could only stare. His body was even more muscular up close, his shoulders wide enough that they cut off her view of the rest of the room. Denise traced her hands down his arms, feeling the thick, corded muscles tighten as he leaned down to kiss her again.
She opened her mouth, relishing the skillful thrust of his tongue as it teased and stroked along hers. His fingers slid down her arm, catching the edge of her glove before pulling it down, bit by bit, until it was off. Then he repeated the action with her other glove. When her arms were bare, Spade drew back. His hair fell over his face, eyes glittering through the black strands as he slowly kissed each of her forearms, tracing his lips and his tongue over the intricate tattoos that covered her brands.