EMBRACE THE DARK (The Blood Rose Novella Series) by Caris Roane

satisfied.
    But mostly, the weight in her chest was gone.
    She lifted her fingers to her neck, wondering if something of Gerrod’s bite remained, but nothing was there. No puncture, swelling, nothing and that made her a little sad. She would have liked a physical reminder of all that had happened last night.
    She rolled onto her back and realized that Gerrod wasn’t in bed. She lifted up on her elbows and listened. The bathroom was quiet as well as the sitting room.
    She was alone.
    Even so, desire fluttered over her stomach and raced in little shivers straight down her thighs. She ached in the most wonderful places from all the activity last night.
    He’d been wonderful , attentive, powerful, controlled. And that speed. She felt her cheeks grow warm and she tingled all over again. Just how loud had she screamed after all?
    She looked up at the tall vaulted ceiling. Wood rafters. The walls were stone. Maybe no one had heard her.
    Fat chance.
    She glanced at the bed, all rumpled covers and the sheets really did need to be laundered, which made her smile.
    Then she blushed just thinking about it since the entire castle would know by the laundry alone what had gone on in this room for a few hours last night.
    Oh, God, a few hours last night. She’d never known such pleasure, such flat-out excitement. Gerrod’s frequency was like having sex spread through every cell of her body, over and over.
    But as her mind turned to her other concerns, like her sister in Flagstaff and Elena at the new bakery, she became aware that she ought to be leaving. She had told Gerrod she wouldn’t stay, that she would return to Flagstaff because of the Invictus outbreak in his realm. But she was torn. She had a bakery to open in Hollow Tree. Many realm-folk were depending on her and the jobs the bakery would provide.
    She pulled the sheet up to her arm pits, sat up, and hugged her knees. She pondered all that had happened on the evening before, the wedding and reception, kissing Gerrod deep in the forest, the Invictus attack, saving the little troll child, and later of course, tending to Gerrod and he to her, and all that tremendous feeling of vibration and waves of energy.
    She had told Gerrod this would be one night only, but she didn’t want to leave this bed, or his castle, or Merhaine. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she loved being here. And it wasn’t just that the sex had been mind-blowing and tender and all-around-wonderful. She just liked being here.
    She felt at home.
    The more she thought about what to do next, and with so much general reluctance to leave this realm, she decided at the very least she had to go to the bakery and talk with Elena. Perhaps the evening would bring more answers about all that was happening to her.
    With the decision made, she had only one problem to contend with: She didn’t have anything to wear except the evening dress she had worn to the wedding last night. But the castle staff was a warm, friendly lot and no doubt would help her with something to wear, at least until she could decide better whether or not to head back to Flagstaff.
    Right now, something deep in her bones told her to stay.
    *** *** ***
    Gerrod sat at the table in his library, his elbows propped up on the table, his hands clasped together, his thumbs at war.
    Damn, he was scowling. He could feel the deep pinch between his brows, that permanent look of his as though he was mad at the world. She had said that to him once, some weeks ago, and even last night she had slid her finger along that groove, trying to work the crease out.
    Of course, he had no idea why he was thinking about Abigail right now. He shouldn’t be. The sex had been great and her blood…oh, dear Goddess, her blood, like a fine wine with just a hint of rosemary, something he had never tasted in the long expanse of his realm life.
    He sucked in a deep breath and sat back in his chair. He needed to make room for a sudden arousal.
    Very softly, he whistled the