Chapter 14
Elliot pulled back the sheets and they climbed into bed.
He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he wanted her again. Now. He wanted to hear her little pants and moans. He wanted to feel her essence surround him, wanted to feel the same bone-shattering release he'd felt moments earlier.
When she propped herself up on her elbow and her sapphire-blue eyes studied his face, he knew the question she would ask before her lips formed the words.
"How did you come by this terrible affliction? If it is not contagious, how is it Alexander has it, too?"
He contemplated lying to her. But knowing Evelyn, she may have already told her about the golden-haired temptress. Besides, Grace had confided in him, confessed to her mistakes.
She would not judge him.
Elliot closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He couldn't do it. He couldn't let the words leave his lips. They lay buried beneath a veil of arrogance that had taken years to perfect, buried so deep they were almost lost to him.
"It is complicated," he said in an attempt to placate her.
"You do not have to tell me anything, Elliot. But know you can trust me with your secret."
In the last four years, he had never considered telling anyone about his affliction. If he waited for an eternity, he doubted he would find anyone else he could confide in.
"It is not a disease, Grace," he suddenly said, a little shocked at how easily he had submitted. "It is the Devil's curse. The story of how I came by it is far worse than any nightmare."
A frown marred her pretty
brow. "A curse? You're not serious?"
"I have never been more serious about anything."
"Someone cursed you?"
Elliot swallowed. "Someone bit me. Transferred their evil poison into my blood."
"Bit you! But why?"
It was a question he had spent long torturous hours deliberating. "I have no idea. I have asked myself the same question a hundred times, and there is only one feasible answer — revenge."
Her eyes grew wide. "You know the person who did this to you?"
He struggled to raise a smile. "No. I do not know her. But she had a look in her eyes, a hatred for man. She also bit Alexander and Leo—"
"Your friend, the Turkish prince," she gasped. "He suffers with it, too?"
"We were bitten at different times, in different locations. Although all within miles of her home it seems."
"But if you do not know her, why would she mark you as the object to satisfy her need for revenge?"
Elliot brushed his hand through his hair. "The only commonality we shared is that we were all libertines. We all used women for our own pleasure without thought or feeling."
Grace raised a brow. "Were libertines?" The words carried a hint of contempt mingled with disbelief.
"I refuse to change my ways because some golden-haired temptress ruined my life in a fit of rage. I refuse to let her beat me. I refuse to let her win."
A look of sadness swamped her countenance. "But have you won, Elliot? Does refusing to show any emotion truly make you the victor?"
"I show emotion with you," he said acknowledging she was not simply another woman he used to ease his boredom.
"Of course," she replied, although he sensed her doubt, her lack of confidence in him. "Do you still see her?"