After a while, he fell asleep.
Much later, when he woke up, he sniffed and groaned because he smelled bacon frying. What was it about bacon sizzling in a pan?
Coffee, too.
He threw the covers back and hopped from bed, then paused and looked back at the bottom sheet. He rounded the bed, his heart beating hard in his chest as he pulled back the covers on Claire’s side. Even though she’d assured him that he hadn’t hurt her, he still worried that somewhere in working her up, he’d gotten too rough.
But when he saw that her portion of the sheet remained unstained, with no sign of blood, he breathed a deep sigh of relief.
You okay? Claire was suddenly in his head.
Fine. At least he was now.
You felt worried there for a moment, through the chains I mean, almost panicky. Any sign of blood-madness?
He actually touched his chest, then his gut. I’m good, thanks. And he was. He felt almost normal, or at least as normal as the son of a psychopath could ever really feel.
All right then. Breakfast in ten minutes.
He went into the bathroom and shaved, then showered. He donned jeans and a snug black T-shirt, no shoes. He liked feeling the cool smooth marble of the tiles on his bare feet.
When he walked into the kitchen, Claire had her auburn hair brushed to a shine and drawn away from her face, revealing strong sculpted cheekbones. Her complexion glowed, maybe from the sex or perhaps from the power she siphoned. Either way, seeing her tightened something deep in his chest.
He glanced at the place mats set on the island, right over the area where he’d taken her.
She smiled. “Thinking good thoughts about last night? I am.” She chuckled.
Damn, he loved that she wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she’d had a lot of experience, but he didn’t like thinking of her with other men. He stopped a growl from forming in his throat.
“Thanks for cooking.”
“You’re welcome. And you were right, your fridge was well stocked. You have steaks in there, and a nice imported beer.”
He smiled. “Yes, I do. Standing orders.”
She poured scrambled eggs into a sizzling pan, and toast popped up from the toaster. She buttered the bread, stirred the eggs. “Pour us some coffee. It’s a nice, hearty French blend you have there. Love it.”
He poured two cups and took them to the place mats on the other side of the island. But his gaze remained fixed to her backside, covered in a fresh pair of jeans, something she must have discovered in one of the guest rooms.
“You went on a hunt, I see.”
“I did. I borrowed some clothes and I like these leather flats. Very nice. Do you have women here often then?”
“Nope. They belong to my housekeeper. Apparently, you’re about the same size.”
“Will she mind?”
“Don’t worry. She has a generous spirit and I’ll compensate her.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, still stirring the eggs. “She pretty?”
“She’s one of the finest people I know, but I’d never use her like that. Besides, she’s married to one of our university professors.”
He felt her surprise as she gently scooped eggs onto a couple of plates. “I didn’t know you had universities.”
This time he refused to be offended. “Only three on as many continents. Not everyone is cut out for study.”
“Did you attend?”
He snorted. “Gabriel insisted on it, and every fifty years I had to take a new degree. Some of them at human universities, night courses, naturally.”
“Naturally.”
She put the toast on the plates as well as the bacon, then brought them over to the island and set them on the place mats. He waited for her to sit down and get comfortable before diving in.
“Go ahead.” She laughed this time. “I know you’re starved. I can feel it through the chains. You can take from my wrist afterward as well, if you want.”
He met her gaze and blinked a couple of times. She’d offered him blood, just like that. “You sure seem to have adjusted to things quickly. I can’t tell you how many times you’ve surprised me.”
She picked up a strip of bacon and took a bite.
He set his coffee mug down and turned toward her. “Claire, I need you to level with me. Tell me once and for all, did I hurt you last night?”
She chewed her bacon but didn’t look at him. A smile curved her lips, and the chains at his neck started to vibrate. He felt something emanating from her, a kind of tenderness he didn’t understand.
Finally she turned toward him and met his gaze. “You don’t know who you are, Lucian. I wish I could convince you of it, but I know I can’t. Did you hurt me last night? No, not even a little. It was wonderful and that’s my point. I don’t believe you could hurt me even if you tried.
“What I enjoyed so much was feeling your strength, feeling all that you were, that you didn’t hold back. That’s what I loved. Did you enjoy yourself?”
The question startled him because he realized it had been one of the finest experiences he’d known for exactly the reason she’d stated, that he’d truly been himself with her.
“Now you tell me. What was it like for you, splitting like that and holding me down?”
He couldn’t quite pinpoint what he felt as he stared into her light-brown eyes. He laid a hand on her arm. “I’ll never forget last night. But I hate just how much I loved having control of you. You weren’t afraid, were you?”
She shook her head and took another bite of bacon, then scooped up some eggs. Not even a little.
Something inside him gave way, a big piece of fear that he’d hurt her. He hadn’t. He ate his breakfast and sipped his coffee.
For the most part, Claire remained quiet as she finished her meal.
Once she’d drained her cup, he rose and started washing the dishes. She offered to help but he told her he had a rule about the cook getting to sit out during cleanup.
He felt the chains once more, only this time he felt her distress. Scrubbing out the frying pan he turned to look at her. “What gives?”
“Well, Rumy called while you were sleeping. Thought I’d wait to share the news.”
“What’s that?” He rinsed the pan off and set it in the drainer to dry, then continued loading the dishwasher.
“He said to tell you that Daniel has raised the stakes on his hunt for the extinction weapon. He’s now offering three million for any information about the remaining weapons, payment made on retrieval of even the smallest part of the weapon, whether design or machinery itself. This is bad, isn’t it?”