“I think we missed dinner,” said David, putting his face by Jo’s ear and breathing in deeply, trying to take in every last molecule of her scent that he could. Unfortunately, being so close to her neck made his fangs shoot down, tingling, and the languid pleasure of waking up after good sex was spoiled by the sudden intense desire to bite. He rolled away. Jo sat up. “So what happens when we miss dinner?” she asked. “Will Marcel get angry if we go into the kitchen and rummage around?” “Yes, of course, he’s a chef,” said David. “The kitchen is his duchy, his kingdom, and no one else is allowed.” He sat up and reached for his trousers. “Except, I am the brother of the Marquis and this is my castle, literally, so Marcel does not make the rules whether he likes it or not,” he said. Jo looked quickly at David. She couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not. He sounded both annoyed at her question and pleased at being able to do what he liked, no matter what anyone else felt or thought.
