She’d washed up after the Viscount de Marmont, not wanting Charles to know she’d been with another man. She found the Viscount’s adoration too much to turn away. Today he had brought her a sapphire bracelet and begged her to become his mistress. She had laughed lightly and told him to go home to his wife, even as she knew he’d be back the next night, like a love-starved puppy.She didn’t know why she still took other men to her bed. She had told Charles, sworn to him, even, that she’d given them all up save for him. And she always meant it, especially when the vampire pinned her wrists above her head and hovered over her, his fangs long and dangerous, looking like the devil’s most beautiful son. He was the only man she’d ever let dominate her. Even when she had just begun as a painted lady, she never took the rough ones.But Charles...Charles made her go weak in the knees. Knowing the power he possessed—the sheer strength, the dangerous fangs, his ability to throw a glamour over her and make her do his bidding—knowing even with her magic, he could break her bones or take her life with one snap of his hand.
