Immortals After Dark 12 - Lothaire

than anyone else in the Lore did.
    “How do I know you won’t mortify him with more of your kisses?”
    “Because you know I’m infatuated only with you. Besides, you can trust him. Any other man would have kissed me back.” When he remained unmoved, she’d cried, “You’re jealous of an eighteen-year-old boy!”
    “He’s seventeen .”
    Eventually, she’d won Lothaire over. Or so she’d thought. At Hag’s, he’d backed the boy into a wall, expression brimming with malice. “Elizabeth Daciano is my woman.”
    Thad had swallowed. “And she sure is a nice one, Mr. Lothaire.”
    “Keep your mouth to yourself today, boy, or your spine will decorate our mantel. . . .”
    But after her fights with Lothaire, whenever he found her pensive, he surprised her with new gifts. He’d brought her jewels from all over the world. Ellie’s own jewels. She supposed the others were hers, too, but these new ones were special because he’d chosen them specifically for her.
    Or he would surprise her with wicked sex. Her sensual vampire had so many tricks up his sleeve, and as he’d grown more comfortable controlling his strength with her, he’d unveiled one after another.
    Yet each new move made her wonder how many stunning immortal females he’d practiced it on before her. He’d once told her he’d bedded a new one each night: fey courtesans, nymph barmaids, the occasional demon shepherdess.
    But never a human of course—
    He suddenly took her hand. Hers fit into his as if it were a glove made for her. She peeked up at him from under her lashes and sighed.
    Lothaire was like a pale-haired god beside her.
    He paused then, looking as if he’d say something, but he closed his mouth, walking on.
    Would kill to know what you’re thinking. . . . Ellie didn’t want to break this tenuous truce with him, didn’t want to spoil this honeymoon period. But at the earliest opportunity, she needed to know how they were going to evict the goddess.
    The night that they’d exchanged their vows, Ellie had been too frazzled by all the developments to realize something critical. When she’d asked him how they would get rid of Saroya, Lothaire had answered, “The ring’s still in play, is it not?”
    Classic Lothaire-speak.
    She’d been just as disingenuous, promising him that she would get past all the things he’d done to her. At the time, she would’ve said anything. She’d recognized that she had him on the ropes, and damn it, she’d wanted to live .
    Now, even as she held his hand and leaned into his strong arm, she wondered if she could keep her word.
    She did truly want to work through her resentment—instead of just lying to him about it and snapping her mental rubber band.
    But how could she get past his treatment of her when everything he was doing now only reminded her of it?
    His telling her she’d never see her family again brought to mind how he’d threatened them so cruelly. Not to mention the fact that he’d stuck her on death row. She tried to reason that he’d prevented Saroya from killing by locking Ellie away. She told herself that he’d saved lives.
    Ellie told herself that a lot.
    And though she’d taken Hag’s contraception potion, he still pulled out during sex. Not that she wanted to get pregnant right now or anything, but he must be horrified by the idea of a part-human heir.
    Every time he left his seed anywhere but in her, he reminded her of all his many insults.
    Weak mortal, stupid human. No one had ever made her feel so lacking.
    It wasn’t as if he’d changed his mind about what she was, accepting her; he was merely looking forward to the time when she’d be made different .
    Take away the difference in their species and they were still worlds apart. He was royalty. She was . . . Ellie. Does he still consider me just a “backward and vulgar hillbilly”? He’ll probably be embarrassed of me around others.
    God, that hurts.
    And how could she get comfortable with him, when she sensed how dangerous—and evil—he still was?
    She’d been proud of him because he hadn’t wanted to behead his
friend.
    Way to set the bar there, Ellie. . . .
    He stopped walking, drawing her close. “If you could have any gift, what would it be?” The breeze whipped his hair across his lean cheeks. “No expense is too great.”
    “Paying off my family’s mountain. Maybe having a place near them.”
    “Elizabeth . . .” he said warningly. In the moonlight, his eyes gleamed like an animal’s