Hupotasso (Vampire Bachelor Games #2)

10

10

I scowl as Rose massages my shoulders.

“You’re so tense, my lord,” she murmurs, her breath warm against my ear, her breasts equally as warm against my back.

“I have a lot on my mind,” I grunt, pulling her around to sit on my lap, “but you are definitely helping.”

“I’m so glad you changed your mind about us,” she whispers. “I cried so much when you said we couldn’t see each other any longer.”

I consider her as she runs her hands over my bare chest and settles firmly in my lap, her legs astride me, pressing indecently close as she looks at me with her big, brown eyes. She and my other two mistresses are all still living in this, the North Wing, just as they were before I entered that vile game. The only difference now is that Sophie is also installed here.

It had been a last-minute decision to keep them.

When I knew I was going to choose Angie for my wife I’d sent word on ahead for my mistresses to move out. All except Sophie, who was living under my protection. It was no real hardship at the time. I harbour no feelings for them, and most of my mistresses only stay in my favour for a year or two anyway. But I’d cut short my liaisons because Angie said she wouldn’t brook me having mistresses after our marriage, and I’d intended to honour that.

Naturally I’d reversed my decision after I found out she was the spy.

Still, this evening was the first night I’d availed myself of any of their comforts since returning to the castle, and Rose, although pleasantly distracting, somehow isn’t erasing the remembrance of my consummation last night with Angie.

Try as I might, I can’t stop thinking about it, about her.

‘Wanting her.’

My conversation with Mother earlier this evening had not helped. She’d visited Angelina today without my consent or knowledge, and she, like Jag, feels I’m being too harsh with my wife. I’m sure if she knew the truth she’d think otherwise. Unfortunately I can’t tell her, so I’m resigned to her thinking I’ve become an unfeeling monster.

By the end of our conversation I’d steadfastly refused to move my wife from the West Wing, but capitulated to my mother’s insistent demand that Angelina be allowed a companion.

“It’s unseemly not to have a companion when she’s so new to this life,” she’d argued, “and it will certainly be considered odd by The Families. Surely you can see this?”

“You didn’t have one! And I couldn’t give a fuck what The Families think.”

“I did have one,” she’d murmured. “But that is a conversation for another day.”

I’d cocked my head and stared at her then. My mother was still able to surprise me. If she’d had a companion this was the first I’d heard of it, no doubt because some horror had befallen the woman and mother had tried to shield me from it, as usual. The thought made me more inclined to agree to what she was asking. And anyway, at this early stage of the marriage I need to continue to publicly play along. Knowing Angelina she’ll try to run away at the earliest opportunity now she’s been discovered. Back to Spider, no doubt. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to hit the road. And that isn’t something I’ll allow. A companion might keep her in check and may be a good source of intelligence as to her plans.

There had then been a long and lengthy discussion about who would be most suitable. Mother pressed her luck and asked for two, one human for daytime companionship and a royal for nighttime engagements. But I’ll only bend so far. The lying bitch doesn’t need someone to talk to during the day. She can sit and stew on her actions and the consequences. At night, though, it might be prudent to have someone always by her side during the numerous engagements we’re going to be forced to attend upon her return from the tour. It will certainly enable me to spend less time with her.

In the end Mother and I had come to a compromise, and she had reluctantly agreed to my choice. I wanted someone unquestionably loyal to protocol. Someone unlikely to be swayed by Angelina’s ability to make people want to protect her.

Cousin Caroline is one of the most bloodthirsty little social climbers I know, and nothing will get past her. I can count on her to keep my wife in line while I pursue my plans. The fact that she’d set her cap for Jag since we were young and that he loathes her is by the by. If anything it made her more willing to please me on the off-chance I’d put in a good word for her with my friend. But bringing her over would be just another part of my plan that Jag would not approve of — which was starting to become inevitable — something I never would have thought probable before The Games.

Wolf will probably think it funny. He’s always enjoyed watching Jag try to outmanoeuvre the ladies. More than a few had relentlessly pursued him over the centuries — but he’d proven, time and again, difficult to trap. Only Wolf and I knew the real reason. His heart had been stolen when he was young. No other woman, vampire or human, would ever compare to his Coquette.

‘Human women are the bane of our existence.’

Frowning, I lift Rose off my lap and rise to leave.

“Oh,” she pouts. “I thought we’d spend the whole night together.”

“Not tonight,” I shake my head as I pull on my shirt and make for the door. “I have business to attend to.”

“Tomorrow night?” She calls after me.

I turn slowly and narrow my eyes at her. If I’m thinking of another woman the whole time I’m fucking her, she’s outlived her usefulness. I try to ignore the tiny voice in the back of my head suggesting that perhaps they all had. Instead I stride back to her and grip her neck in one hand, pulling her close.

“Lord Falcon,” she squeaks, her eyes wide, heart racing.

Scooping her into my arms, I stalk to the window.

Her screams last a full ten seconds before she hits the ground amid a shower of glass.

Turning, I leave the room without a backward glance and make for another, two corridors away.

As Sophie answers the door I can’t help but notice the swell of her stomach, and I try not to think about the creature living inside her body, and just who it belongs to, as she smiles up at me.

Looking her in the eye I walk in and close the door firmly.

“We need to talk.”