Chapter 7

Chapter 7

She felt embarrassed, but she went in.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to get dressed,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

She turned to reply, but no one was there.

“How did he move so fast?” she murmured to herself.

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In the bedroom, he stopped in front of the mirror. The aged reflection appeared slowly.

“You will begin to age again in a few hours,” the image said in a grave tone.

“I know,” he replied, not looking away. “I’m going to enjoy this time… with her.”

The reflection nodded in silence and disappeared.

He went downstairs dressed and found her in the hallway, standing in front of some old portraits near the staircase. Elena studied every detail with curiosity.

“My family used to be large,” he said, approaching.

“At least you got to meet your father,” she commented softly.

He simply nodded.

There was a brief silence until Elena looked at him more closely.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Vlad… Vlad Darkmoor.”

She frowned slightly, studying his face.

“You look just like him. I mean… Mr. Darkmoor.”

His eyes flashed for a second, an ancient, dangerous, seductive gleam, before a half-smile curved his lips.

“That’s no coincidence, Miss Lancaster.”

He led her to the living room and asked if she would like a drink. While preparing something light, not too strong, he watched her more carefully.

Elena noticed his gaze and lifted her face. Their eyes met and lingered for seconds far too long to be innocent.

She looked away first, feeling her face heat up. A deep embarrassment washed over her as she remembered the desire she had felt days earlier… for the wrong man. Or maybe not so wrong after all. And this man was his son.

Elena scolded herself silently. It felt as if the Darkmoors had become her hidden vice, a danger she couldn’t pull away from. Seeing Vlad naked had been too much for her mind, an image that kept returning, awakening thoughts she would never admit out loud.

He handed her the drink and then poured whiskey for himself. He leaned against the sofa, watching her closely.

“Tell me a little about yourself,” he encouraged in a calm tone.

“I work for your father. I should say he seemed… very pleased when he found out he had an heir.”

Vlad tilted his head in agreement, a half-smile on his lips.

“I thought so too.” He took a sip of whiskey. “From one day to the next, I went from the outskirts to… all of this.”

Vlad picked up the remote and turned on some soft music that spread through the room like a whisper.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, extending his hand.

She hesitated for just a second before accepting. As soon as she stepped closer, she was wrapped in his arms with surprising confidence. He guided her with precision and lightness, as if every step were already engraved in his memory.

Elena looked at him, visibly surprised.

“You dance very well…”

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

“I took ballroom dancing lessons from a young age.”

And as they moved slowly, Elena had the strange feeling that this man carried far more past than he appeared to.

His scent was discreet, masculine, and the closeness made her skin prickle. Vlad’s chest brushed lightly against hers with each turn, and the warmth radiating from him did not match the cool night outside.

“You’re tense,” he murmured far too close to her ear.

The low, velvety voice made something tremble inside her.

“No… I just… don’t dance very much,” she replied unconvincingly.

He smiled and adjusted his hand on her waist, a subtle gesture, but intimate enough to make her hold her breath.

“Trust me.”

When Elena closed her eyes, the world seemed to go quiet. The music faded for a second. Her heart beat far too hard. Hard as if it wasn’t only hers.

When she opened her eyes, she found Vlad’s gaze fixed on hers. For a brief instant, his pupils seemed to dilate beyond what was possible.

Their faces were dangerously close now. One wrong move and their lips would touch.

Elena swallowed, feeling her heart race, painfully aware of where she was… and of who was holding her.

And yet, she didn’t want to pull away.

She felt it first.

The grip on her waist tightened. Too possessive. The heat of his hand seemed to seep through the fabric of her dress, burning the skin beneath.

“Vlad…” she murmured, not knowing why she used his first name.

That was a mistake. His eyes darkened completely. The music faltered for a second. The lights flickered briefly.

He pulled her closer, so close there was no room left for doubt. Elena’s heart pounded when she felt his breath against her neck.

“Step away…” he thought, fighting himself. “Now.”

Vlad’s lips drifted slowly down to the line of her neck without touching. A violent shiver ran down her spine.

For a second, his teeth pressed against his own lip, revealing the tip of something far too sharp to be human.

He squeezed his eyes shut and suddenly let her go, stepping back as if burned.

“No…” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “Not like this.”

Elena raised a hand to her own neck.

“What was that…?” she asked, trembling.

Vlad turned his back, running a hand through his hair, breathing deeply. The muscles in his shoulders were rigid, far too tense for simple embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I was going to kiss your neck.”

Elena swallowed. He closed his eyes for a moment.

“I know I shouldn’t,” he added, almost in a whisper. “Not now. Not with you.”

There was regret in his words… but there was desire too.

“And what if I said I want it too?”

Vlad slowly lifted his gaze. His eyes flashed for an instant.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he replied, his tone too restrained to be calm. “Nor what I’m capable of when I lose control.”

He took a step toward her and stopped, forcing himself to keep his distance.

“What you felt wasn’t just desire,” he continued. “It was something I awakened… and it might not disappear afterward.”

Elena stayed where she was.

“Even so…” she murmured. “I wasn’t afraid.”

For a second, Vlad closed his eyes. When he opened them, there was something different in his gaze.

“That’s what scares me,” he confessed. “You stay… even when you should run.”

He knew that if he took one more step, there would be no turning back.