When he laid the brush on the vanity, her gaze strayed to the long fingers, the way they handled such a feminine object with ease. "As my lady wishes."
She didn't see any apprehension in his expression, so he obviously knew how to do this part. "Go to the kitchen. You'll need to familiarize yourself with everything to instruct the caterers properly. The same goes for everything else in the house. If I have overnight guests, you should be able to provide them whatever they need."
The original works of art in the room mocked her with their realism, their value, as she spouted nonsense she was sure Thomas had gone over with him a hundred times.
"I'll provide you an allowance to do whatever you need to serve my household, and you'll let me know whenever more needs to be transferred into that account. I check the books once a week. You'll be given a salary for your own needs, of course."
He nodded. "Do you want me to help you bathe, my lady?"
She blinked. She'd fired words at him intended to point out his inferior status and he'd rebounded with something that reminded her of the intimacy she could require from him. That he offered freely and so temptingly.
"No," she snapped. "Go to the kitchen. Do as I've asked."
Pivoting on her heel, she strode to the bath and closed the door, turning the key in the lock with a decisive, unmistakable click.
Because the first mark told her where he was, she knew he stood in the same spot several minutes before leaving to do her bidding. When she turned her gaze to the tub, her forehead still pressed against the cool wood of the door, she saw steam rising from it. It brought her the scent of lavender and rose petals, telling her he'd sprinkled oils for both in the water. He'd also placed a vase of flowers on the foot of the tub, artfully strewing a handful of the mixed petals down along the damp side of the porcelain. It created a pale pink and lavender-colored path that made her dizzy, much like the Van Gogh. In the rising steam she could imagine herself dancing with Jacob, twined around him, immersed in him.
Thomas, who the hell is this human?
Chapter Fifteen
"Why would vampires want food? Or care about it at all?" Jacob asked.
The butcher-block kitchen table had more space than the center island, but Jacob discovered Bran tended to get bored and plant his huge front paws on the table's surface, dragging everything on it to the floor. He wondered if Lyssa had ever had the same urge he had, to tie the animal's ears in a painful knot. Or ended up as he had, in a wrestling match with Bran for one of the cookbooks, laughing at them both. It turned out the island was more comfortable for Jacob's long legs anyway, and easier to circle and examine the various items he'd spread out over the counter.
Catering catalogs, cookbooks, several legal pads and pens. When she'd joined him about an hour ago, he'd seen her glance over the three proposed menus he'd already laid out, including appetizers, salad, soup, main course, dessert, and wine selections. He'd made notes in the margins on other household issues. The dogs' schedule, where the switchboxes were, flashlights, a list of things he hadn't found he might have to get at the hardware store. He hadn't let her curt dismissal rattle him, hadn't spent his time sulking. He hoped that had impressed her. Or maybe annoyed her just a little bit. He couldn't tell, but it cheered him to imagine either one.
"Vampires like food," she responded. "We can't digest it in great quantities, but we love the taste, the aroma. The main purpose of having a five-course meal is to delight them with different flavors and scents."
"So why don't we choose a mixture of flavors they haven't experienced before, together with things they have, so they can enjoy the new and familiar together? Like fresh brownies, with a side of raspberry cream sauce. A salad made out of fresh produce from local farmers. Nothing smells as good as a garden tomato that's never seen the inside of a refrigerator." He made a notation. In the corner of his eye, he noted she appeared fascinated by the way he held a pen. He was left-handed, so he had an awkward scribble barely legible to himself. "Will there be any politics to deal with?" he asked.
"Are we both breathing?"
Jacob glanced up in time to see a look of amusement cross her face. It helped ease the ball of apprehension he was carrying in his gut, anticipating that any moment she was going to do something else to test his limits. The way he felt around her was worse than it had been with his high school history teacher who'd loved surprise pop quizzes. In the microcosm of totalitarianism that could only exist in a classroom, to fail on even one of the tests would be 25 percent of the student's grade for the semester. A passing grade on the test was simply discarded, proof he was paying attention. He was finding some definite correlations between Lyssa and Mr. Winstead.
He'd had mixed feelings about the way she'd shut the door in his face. Thomas had helped her far more with her morning toilette than she'd allowed him to do this morning. Her dismissal rankled, but on the other hand, he was realizing how difficult it was to maintain self-control around a woman who kept him in a near constant state of wanting. She looked at him one moment with naked desire glittering in her eyes, her body trembling at his briefest touch. A blink later, she shoved him away, shut him out. Now here she was in a pair of tailored brown slacks and a soft cream sweater he supposed she thought of as simple and demure. Still, he longed to close his hands over the band of the sweater on her hips, pet the curve of her breasts. She'd pulled her dark, fine hair back with a barrette so it lay on her shoulder blades. Spun silk he'd had the pleasure of touching, so just looking at it made his fingers itch.
"The purpose of the dinner is to mark a new vampire for my Region. Thomas explained the structure of our holdings, I assume?"
He had. The vampire world was divided into Regions, groupings of territories won through battle or influence during the formation of the current vampire society, before the Council had been appointed. The heads of those Regions were known as Master vampires. A vampire who accumulated enough wealth and influence might be awarded an overlord title and a territory inside a Region by the Council, preferably with the consent of the Region Master. Vampires lacking the power or experience to be an overlord applied to reside in a territory. The overlord then put them in charge of different business interests. In return the vampires gave the overlord a percentage for his protection and backing. The overlords served the Region Master.