Fangs For The Memories

CHAPTER 9

Jane whimpered softly when Rhys withdrew from her. As strange and foreign as it had initially been to have him filling her so completely, it felt even odder to have him gone.

He rolled and pulled her with him so they were face-to-face, legs tangled, hands still touching each other's warm bodies.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm-wonderful," she told him. "Beyond wonderful." And that was absolutely true. She couldn't imagine anything more perfect with a more perfect man.

"It was perfect," he agreed as though he could hear her very thoughts. He stroked his large hand up and down her hip, the touch tender.

She sighed. So this was what girls had giggled about in her high school locker room and young women had discussed over their coffees in the college snack bar. Jane had always felt different from those women, too busy with her studies and her strange home life to experience romance and boys. Now, at twenty-five, she understood. Before she thought better of it, she added, "I finally feel normal."

Rhys's eyebrow shot up and he gave her a wry grin. "Normal? Not exactly the result I was hoping for."

Why had she said that? "I–I…" She winced, as she struggled for the right explanation. "I meant that I now understand what I have heard other women talking about."

His smile broadened. "Women talk about bedding men?"

She widened her eyes, surprised by the question. "Oh, yeah. All the time."

Rhy's expression appeared caught between amusement and surprise. "Really? So all those proper ladies are not nearly as proper as they seem, then?"

She frowned. She'd managed to forget again that Rhys wasn't living in the same time period as everyone else. "Well-I suppose proper women don't talk about that sort of thing too much."

"Are you trying to tell me that you didn't associate with proper ladies?" He grinned and pulled her closer to him. "Or that you aren't a proper lady?"

No, she wasn't a proper lady, that was for sure. If she'd had a respectable bone in her body, she wouldn't have allowed this to happen. She would have left his bed as soon as she'd woken. But as usual all her appropriate behavior and rational thoughts fled at the sight of him.

"I… I'm certainly not the woman you think I am." She sighed, wondering what he'd think of her when he got his memory back. She didn't imagine he'd have a very flattering picture of her.

Rhys shifted away from her, his eyes locking with hers. He regarded her silently for a few moments. "Why do you say that?"

What could she say? I'm not your betrothed. I'm some woman you met in a seedy bar.

"What do you mean?" he asked again, his voice lower, more demanding.

"I–I just mean…" She didn't know what to say.

He moved suddenly, his weight pinning her into the mattress-his face above hers. "I don't care who you were, Jane. Because now, now you are mine."

His mouth came down on her parted lips, capturing her startled gasp. The kiss was possessive, insistent, leaving no room for her to deny him. Not that she wanted to. She wanted to be his-desperately.

He ended the kiss as abruptly as he'd started it. Peering down at her, his eyes roamed her face, and for the briefest moment, Jane wondered if he was remembering something. Remembering who he was-who she was.

"You are exactly who I thought you were," he said softly, his voice rasping over her like velvet. "A beautiful, sweet, honest, and so, so desirable woman."

The words should have melted her into a delighted puddle in the center of the mattress, but they couldn't-not when they weren't true. Especially not the honest part.

He sighed, his brow creasing. "Again, I am not achieving the desired effect." He tempered the grim look by brushing back a lock of her hair from her cheek.

"I feel…" She struggled for the truth. A truth that Rhys could hear, that wouldn't upset the world he'd created. "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

He stared at her. Then he laughed, rolling back to his side, hugging her against him. The rumbling in his chest created a warm vibration throughout her body.

He shifted back so he could see her face, but their chests continued to be pressed together. "I rather like that. Now you will have to make an honest man of me."

She smiled back, but guilt made the gesture strained. Honest. There was that word again. She was the one «bedding» him under false pretense. She felt like a total… what was a good historical term? Trollop? Yeah, that one fit.

Somehow she didn't think this was what Sebastian had in mind when he hired her to take care of Rhys.

Sebastian sat in the living room, reading Salem's Lot, when Rhys strolled into the room. Whistling.

"Good morning."

Sebastian gaped at his brother. Rhys did not whistle. And he was never agreeable when he first arose.

And what was he wearing?

"What do you have on?"

Rhys glanced down at his clothes, a dark brown, button-front shirt and faded jeans. He smiled again. "Jane brought these from America for me. At least I think she did, and I thought it would be rude not to wear them." He examined them again. "They are actually rather comfortable."

Sebastian had no idea what to say. Rhys in jeans. He was too morose for normal clothes like that. He always wore black. In fact, Sebastian was surprised that Rhys hadn't resorted to dressing like Dracula-lurking around like a menacing head waiter.

Rhys flopped down in a chair and put his feet up on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles. He smiled broadly.

Sebastian blinked, then finally found his voice. "You are certainly… happy." Lord, it would take some time to get used to using that word to describe Rhys. And he kept smiling-it was actually a bit unnerving.

"Well, it seems that my betrothed feels as if she has taken advantage of me." He sighed with satisfaction. "I'm well and truly compromised."

Sebastian smiled himself. Ah, so Rhys had gotten himself laid. That certainly explained a lot. And it hadn't taken the two of them long. He'd thought one of them would fight the attraction-for a while anyway.

"That's great. You've needed to be compromised for a long, long time," Sebastian pointed out.

Rhys grinned. "I suppose she will have to marry me now."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. Leave it to Rhys to still be morally uptight-even in his delusions.

Rhys grew serious. "I do need to call the banns. I should go now. I think I will go have Spencer ready a carriage." He stood up.

Sebastian jumped up, too. "You-you did that already."

Rhys frowned. "I did? I already requested the banns? Or told Spencer to have the carriage readied?"

"The banns. Right after Jane got here-on the way from the boat-I mean, ship."

"I did? While drunk?"

Sebastian gave him a shrug and a nod. "You liked what you saw, so you figured why wait."

Rhys rubbed a hand over his face, then peered at Sebastian "As if she was some horse I decided to buy on impulse? Good Lord, it's little wonder she didn't flee right then and there."

"She seems to like you."

"I cannot imagine why. Or how I will make all this up to her."

"I'd stick with the sex. She seems to like that, right?"

Rhys gaped at him. "And to think, mother wanted you to go into the church."

Sebastian shuddered. Yes, he'd dodged a bullet of his now by choosing vampirism. Mother would be proud.

Rhys shook his head, obviously still aggrieved by his imaginary bad behavior. "I should go see what Cook has prepared for breakfast. Jane must be famished."

Sebastian stepped forward to block him. "Holiday," he said quickly.

A puzzled frown creased Rhys's brow.

"Cook-all the staff actually-are on holiday."

"All at once?"

Sebastian nodded. "It seemed like a good decision at the time."

"Let me guess. While we were drunk?"

"Yeah."

"Remind me again why I ever trust Christian," Rhys muttered more to himself than Sebastian, then left the room heading toward the kitchen.

Well, Sebastian thought as he fell back into his chair with a sigh of relief, so far so good.

Except for the lack of food in the apartment. He kept forgetting that mortals needed to be fed. He would have to call down to Mick and ask him to go to the grocery store. But other than that, things were going better than he could have anticipated. Certainly faster.

If he could keep Rhys believing he was mortal for a while longer, maybe Rhys would realize that he could have Jane- even as a vampire. Plus, Jane would also need time with Rhys to accept the truth. Some mortals were squeamish about the whole undead thing. For some reason, he didn't think Jane would be one of them. He could feel something when he talked to her. She knew about death.

But the main thing Rhys and Jane had going for them was their connection. It was stronger than he'd ever sensed, even between most mated vampires.

Maybe his Dudley Do-Right brother would do the right thing and cross this woman over and marry her.

Jane peered at herself in the mirror. The simple A-line skirt and tailored shirt were very respectable. Very proper. No one would guess she was a complete wanton with absolutely no ability to control her desire. She couldn't believe it herself.

She'd just had sex with Rhys!

While she was in his arms, being with him had seemed so right, so natural. But now… Now she couldn't believe what she'd done. How had her life gotten so out of her control? When she'd decided to leave Maine, she made up her mind she would do the normal things other women did. She'd date. She'd discover the intrigues of intimacy. She'd have friends and fun times. So far, she'd skipped right over all of that straight into the intimacy.

Her heart pulsed wildly in her chest, and heat tingled through her limbs and belly, before centering on the sensitive flesh between her thighs. Oh, she'd definitely experienced intimacy-and it had been so, so wonderful.

But she wouldn't allow it to happen again. No matter how attracted to him she was, they would not have sex again.

At least not until he was well. It just wasn't right.

But it sure as heck felt right.

She glared at herself in the mirror. She couldn't think like that. She wouldn't.

But maybe-maybe one day, when Rhys was well, they could start again. She could know the real Rhys. And maybe he wouldn't think poorly of her one transgression, and they could-date.

And maybe Rhys was a real viscount.

The more likely outcome would be that Rhys would get his memory back and promptly remember he liked women as stunning as himself. Not short, mousy women with the morals of a tramp.

She adjusted her skirt, smoothed her hands over her shirt and left her room to find him-to explain that they should wait. He'd, of course, think she was referring to until after their wedding, which was fine, since there wouldn't be a wedding.

But instead of Rhys, she found Sebastian. He looked up from the book he was reading as she entered, greeting her with a warm smile.

"Hey there. You look nice."

She smiled, but barely registered the compliment. Her mind was on what she needed to do. "Have you seen Rhys?"

"Why, yes, I have." He smiled, a knowing look in his hazel eyes.

Oh, no. Her stomach sank. Sebastian knew.

"So I hear from a very happy Rhys that you have compromised him."

She blushed and fought back a groan. "I'm really sorry. I know I shouldn't have allowed it to happen-and I have no excuse. I can leave right away." She had no idea where she'd go, but she'd just have to figure something out.

"Are you kidding? Leave? Jane, this situation is perfect. I mean, you'll know exactly where he is if he's in bed with you, right?"

Jane gaped at him. With each passing day, it seemed that both brothers were nuts.

"But it's unfair to him. He thinks he's engaged to me. Plus, you are paying me. There's something just-wrong about all of this."

"So," Sebastian said slowly, "you are having moral issues with this?"

"Yes."

He shook his head, amazement clear in his hazel eyes. "Damn, you two are perfect for each other."

She frowned, unsure what he was talking about.

"Listen," he said, "do you like Rhys?"

She nodded.

"And do you want to be with him?"

She considered lying, but she couldn't. She did want to be with him-desperately. She nodded.

"Then I don't see a problem. I certainly don't think Rhys's amnesia would somehow make him attracted to you when he normally wouldn't be. Hell, nothing would have made him attracted to his real American betro …"

Jane gaped at him, eyes wide, her mouth falling open. Was he saying that Rhys had a real fiancée? Dizziness whirled through her.

Sebastian immediately came to stand in front of her. He caught her arm, as if he knew she was woozy.

"I said that the wrong way," he told her, his voice steady and apologetic. "Rhys seems to think he is an ancestor of ours, and I have seen pictures of the American woman the real viscount married. She was-unattractive."

Jane felt relief clear away some of the dizziness. At least she didn't have to add adulterer to tramp.

"Jane, Rhys is happier than I have seen him in years. And that isn't because of the amnesia; that is because of you."

Her heart leapt in her chest at the idea that she was making Rhys happy-but something seemed odd about Sebastian's assurance. Why would he be happier with the amnesia? Were there things in his real life he needed to forget? Or maybe she was just reading too much into Sebastian's words.

She studied him, trying to decide which it was, but his hazel eyes revealed nothing.

She sighed. "Rhys and I don't even know each other. And we can't get to know each other, because he thinks he's a viscount, and I'm pretending to be his fiancée."

"But it won't always be that way. And you are good for him."

She wanted that to be true.

"Jane, I know my brother. He is very particular, and if he is with you, it's because he wants you. Not because you just happen to be part of his current delusions. Just have fun."

How easy it would be simply to accept Sebastian's advice. But she still thought it was wrong to continue a physical relationship. She had to wait until they could honestly know each other.

"You will stay, won't you?" he asked.

She nodded. She would stay. She would continue to hang on to the excuse that this arrangement made the most sense with her financial situation, but she knew she was lying to herself. She wanted to be close to Rhys. But she also needed to know more about the man. To understand him.

"Yes. I'll stay, but I can't take your money," she said resolutely. "It makes what happened between Rhys and me feel- cheap. I'll stay because I owe Rhys to help him if I can. Also… Can you tell me something about him-his real life- so I at least feel as though I know something about him?" So I didn't just sleep with a total stranger.

"What-what has he told you?"

Jane frowned. Why should it matter what Rhys had told her? He was the one with amnesia, wasn't he?

But she finally said, "He told me your parents passed away?"

"Yes, when I was twenty-two and Rhys was twenty-six."

Jane nodded, so Rhys did understand loss. They did share that.

"Do you really have two other siblings?"

"Yes."

Jane nodded, gladness warring with envy. He had other family to care about him, to love. She didn't begrudge him that. She wanted him to have others in his life. His siblings just made it all the more clear that she was alone. And once Rhys was better, she might be totally alone again.

She straightened. Perhaps it was best, despite the intimacy she'd just shared with him, to prepare for that possibility. Maybe that would make things easier in the long run.

"I will stay," she told Sebastian again, "for the time we originally agreed on. But I do need to be searching for my own place and a job."

Sebastian opened his mouth as if he planned to argue. Then he closed it. He looked at her speculatively, then asked, "What do you normally do for work?"

"Normally, I ran a funeral parlor. But I actually have my BA in accounting. That was what I intended to do here in New York."

"A funeral parlor?"

"My father was a mortician." She waited, expecting one of two typical responses, repulsion or morbid curiosity.

She got neither. Instead Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. "I swear you two are a match made in heaven."

But before she could ask him what he meant, he asked, "Would you be able to handle the finances of a nightclub? Accounts payable? Ordering supplies? Payrolls? Taxes-that sort of thing?"

She frowned. "I don't see why not."

"Great! You're hired. Rhys and I stink at the financial end of the nightclub. I do it, but I truly hate it. I'd be thrilled to lose the job."

She shook her head, that dizzy feeling coming over her again. "You want me to work at the club?"

"Sure. It's the perfect solution. You won't be taking money for doing the dirty with my brother, yet you'll still be here and financially stable."

"But I won't be watching him, which is the reason for me to stay here in the first place."

"Oh, well, I wouldn't want you to start until after the New Year, and who knows, by then Rhys could be fine again."

She frowned. Something just didn't add up here. Why was Sebastian so set on her staying here? And she still got the feeling that Rhys's ailment wasn't distressing Sebastian in the least. The doctor hadn't even come today as he had said he would.

"I thought the doctor was supposed to come today to examine Rhys."

He was nodding before she even finished her sentence. "I did, too. So I called, and it seems I misunderstood. He said tomorrow, because of the holidays, you know."

She nodded. Okay, but that still didn't explain why it was so important that she stay here.

"If I do take the job at the club, I will still be leaving to live in my own place-after you figure out another arrangement for Rhys."

Sebastian shrugged. "That's fine." He picked up his book as though he planned to start reading again. Then he paused, the book in his lap. "I just thought, since we have this big apartment and you don't have a place, it would be easier for you to just stay here. Finding good rentals in this area can be tough, but I suppose you could leave…"

Suddenly she felt a tad silly, and more than a little overly suspicious. He was just being kind, and she was looking for ulterior motives.

"You'd love working at Carfax Abbey, I think. It's a fun place."

When she frowned with confusion, he clarified, "The nightclub."

She nodded. She did need a job, and Sebastian was offering a real one this time. In a nightclub, which was infinitely different than a funeral parlor. It could be exciting and fun. She loved the idea of being surrounded by people out for a good time. Dancing, socializing, living.

She wasn't going to even speculate on the faint rise in her pulse when she thought about the fact she'd be working with Rhys. Given how uncertain everything was with her relationship with the man, it wasn't wise to take a job with him. She had to keep reminding herself that things could change. Would likely change.

But on a practical note, Sebastian was offering her an exciting job, a good job. She'd be a fool to pass up the deal. And if the situation changed once Rhys regained his memory, well, she'd figure that out when the time came. Right now, she wanted to stay, although she did intend not to let things get out of hand like they did last night. She still believed she and Rhys should wait to continue the physical side of their relationship until they both understood what was going on.

"Okay," she said slowly, "I'll take the job."