Agnes cuddled into the emotional warmth of the vampire, gazing up at him with a cream-pot smile. “Bien sûr que non,” she murmured. She pressed a finger against his lips, felt the satin smoothness of his flesh. “Mon Dieu, Nigel, jou threaten a man before his dinner? Shame!”
Nigel lowered the cudgel slowly, reluctance in every line. It was perhaps the most emotion he’d shown in the entire year she’d known him. Even when holding himself braced over her lush and naked form, he had not burned so. Interesting. “He was gonna hurt the doctor.”
“Hurt Dex? Non, he would not be harmed. Although,” she said, looking up at the vampire again, not trying to free herself from his embrace. “It is possible that his lover would have hurt jou. Lord Maitland, he is not what he seems. Anozzer time, I would ask
