Beyond Temptation

CHAPTER FOUR



Malec sought appeasement of his hunger with a longtime mistress of half-blood lineage. He journeyed to her house and her majordomo greeted him with warmth. However, as Malec followed behind the kind and elegantly-mannered fellow, vampiric temper peaked in him and he found himself unwilling to curb impulse. He levitated, the tingle of it enveloping his body, and he rushed forward through the halls and upstairs to her chamber door.



Setting himself down, he gathered his concentration and slid back the bolt fastening the door. She had not even attempted to delay him. The door swung at his bidding.



Sylvayan reposed upon her favorite chaise before the blazing hearth. Without turning her celebrated purple eyes from it, she remarked, “Such temper.”



Malec strode inside and slammed the door with a thought. “I come to feed. No more.”



Sylvayan moved a bit, her head turning. She faced him, at once defensive and taunting. Her oval-shaped face and high forehead acted as hallmarks of her lauded beauty. “I smell some human bitch on you. You! A prince of your kind lusting for one of them.”



He strode forward, catching her under him, twisting her hair to bow her back and arch her up to him. Staring at her breasts above the expensive negligee, he realized how clinical and distanced his hunger had become. “Do you deny me?”



“Never.”



Malec sank his teeth into her carotid. His fangs retracted into his jaw with a decided pang as he sealed his mouth over the food source. Pleasure evaded him. It felt like taking a pill for nutrition. Just ending an itch, while failing to actually scratch it.







Avery woke from an intense dream with no recall of details. She stumbled from bed, grabbed the required items and managed her way to the bathroom down the hall. After a few minutes of hot water, rational thought returned to her brain. Memories of her odd, compelling host at Prayer Park and unexpected bodyguard here at the Hide and Harry, caused considerable confusion. Avery rinsed the shampoo from her hair, squeezed out excess water and added conditioner. The scent of vanilla swirled upon the steam.



As she soaped herself, she attempted to understand the sudden interest in her by these men. After years of enduring men overlooking her, what gave now?



Avery rinsed, dried, lotioned and dressed in a purple thermal Henley top, cream-colored cords and brown boots. She needed to speak to Rupert Sweeney about Prayer Park and its master.



If anyone knew their secrets, he would.



She walked to Rupert’s house. People she passed slid curious, almost suspicious gazes over her. Self-consciously, Avery put up the hood of her jacket and knocked on the old wooden door.



It opened and she found herself dragged inside amid a flurry of questions. The scents of curry and old books filled her nose. “What did he look like?” He helped her off with her coat vigorously. “Did you get on well? Are you going back? The whole town knows you went there alone. Did he seem very New Euro Riche-Aloof or more Old World sophisticated?”



“Um, he looks like an artistic interpretation of a fallen angel. Yes, I think we ‘got on well’. I hope to. Of course I went alone, I’m a big girl, and not exactly either one.” She watched him close the portal and turn to her. “Did I cover everything?”



“Tell me all.” He pulled her along to the kitchen. “Have you eaten? I have curried chicken and eggs ready.”



“Sounds exotic for a British breakfast, but okay.” The kitchen had a homey feel she enjoyed and the meal proved delightful. Chicken shredded and cooked a second time in a little broth and golden curry, scrambled eggs and buttered toast made a hearty and tasty start to the day. Avery took her tea with cream and sugar again. As she recited the evening’s events minus the sensual references, she heard a heavy, sleety rain begin. “Well, crap. I forgot my umbrella.”



Rupert shook his head as he chewed, then swallowed. “I’ll carry you back in my neighbor’s lorry. He lets me borrow it in exchange for my organizing his finances.”



Impressed, she asked, “You’re the word man and number man?”



He nodded. “And, a fabulous cook. I will make some fellow a fine wife.”



Avery smiled. “That you will. For now, tell me what you know about his lordship.” She kept her tone light. However, speaking of him just then seemed to invite his presence.



“Prayer Park’s had a de Beauchamp in residence off and on for centuries. This fellow has maintained a low presence. The only thing I recall occurred perhaps four years ago.” Rupert poured himself more tea, then silently offered it to her as well. When she shook her head, he continued. “Some very wealthy old Frenchman came with a fleet of bodyguards inquiring after his missing twenty-two year old bride.”



She blushed, picturing that dark, potent man ravishing some young woman as the highwayman had those scandalously racy women so long ago. For some reason, she associated the two in a manner that could not evolve well. “Did the man find his wife?”



Rupert cut a piece of toast, then speared a bit of egg to go with it. “Oh, yes. Delivered to his hotel room, shrouded in mysterious circumstances and only a man’s overcoat.”



She felt her flush heat and darken. “I can’t imagine.”



He chewed in a thoughtful manner. After a sip of tea, he replied, “I doubt you could. Not with your aura of innocence.”



Feeling caught, she wiped her mouth with the charming, worn cloth napkin provided. “Enough about that. Let’s tackle some research for my book.”



They spent the rest of the morning going over Rupert’s many papers and records. Avery had some good ideas for her manuscript about her ancestors’ colorful lives. She decided to choose five main characters, two couples and one lone woman. Their POV’s would tell the tale. Given her editor had already greenlighted the project, Avery didn’t worry about complications concerning storyline or style.



As a grandfather clock chimed the hour of noon, she said, “I need to go. I want to send a thank you to my host of last night and maybe jot out some notes.”



“Let me ring Brian next door, then.”



‘Lorry’ arrangements in place, they went for her coat, then walked to the side door. In a dark, American-looking vehicle sat a figure she recognized even through the condensation and streaky cold rain. Brom. Kissing Rupert’s cheek, she then patted his chest. “Appears I have a ride. Thanks so much for breakfast and the help. Same time tomorrow, but I come fed?” Anticipation sent little sharp thrills through her. Bits of some dream about the Scot returned in tantalizing snippets.



Rupert glanced at the waiting vehicle, then back to her. “Two suitors, love?”



Avery shook her head. “No. See you tomorrow?”



Rupert nodded. “But, come hungry. I like feeding you.”



She descended the three steps to the side drive and walked to her waiting ride. When she approached, Brom hopped out, rounded the vehicle and opened her door. Avery climbed in quickly, savoring the break in the sleety precipitation. She sat in the passenger seat, smelling him in the interior. He opened the other door, slid behind the wheel causing the vehicle to dip under his weight.



From her periphery, she saw him turn his head. “You left this morning while I was out for a run. Are you all right, Avery? ”



“Perfectly fine.”



He put the SUV into gear and pulled slowly out onto the slushy street. “I want to spend the day with you. Will you ride with me to London? I have a meeting.”



“Actually, I have some things to do.”



“Will you have dinner with me tonight after I return?”



She glanced over at his wide, muscular thighs encased in denim, his large, steady hand on the wheel. A flutter of desire swept through her. “Yes.”



“Good.” His burr peeked through a bit more.



Avery wanted to smile at his piratical tone. However, that would have validated it. Remaining quiet, she waited through the short ride to the inn. They arrived. She jumped out. Holding the door wide, she thanked him. “I appreciate your coming to get me. I’ll see you when?”



“Nine too late?” His green eyes held warmth that went straight to her pelvis.



“Not at all.” Avery wondered at this sudden male interest yet again. “See you here?”



Brom replied, “I look forward to it.”