Dark Prince. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 1

Margaret and Shelly were staring in awe at Mikhail’s home. He had money, and the interior of his home reeked of it: marble and hardwood; soft, warm colors; artwork and antiques. It was obvious Margaret was both surprised and impressed.

Father Hummer seated himself comfortably in his favorite armchair. “I believe we interrupted something important.” He looked pleased with himself and secretly amused, his faded eyes twinkling every time they met the blackness of Mikhail’s fathomless gaze.

“Raven has consented to become my wife.” Mikhail brought her fingers to the warmth of his mouth. “I did not have enough time to give her the ring. You drove up before I could put it on her finger.”

Margaret touched the well-worn Bible sitting on the table. “How very romantic, Raven. Do you plan on being married in the Church?”

“Of course the child must be married in the Church. Mikhail is strong in his beliefs and would consider nothing less,” Father Hummer said in a mild rebuke.

Raven kept her hand in Mikhail’s as they curled up together on the sofa. Margaret’s faded eyes were as sharp as talons. “Why have you been hiding out, my dear?” Her gaze was darting everywhere, trying to ferret out secrets.

Mikhail stirred, leaned back lazily. “You could hardly call it hiding out. We phoned Mrs. Galvenstein, your landlady, and let her know Raven was staying with me. Surely she told you.”

“The last I heard of Raven, she had gone into the wilds to meet you for a picnic,” Margaret declared. “I knew she was ill and I was worried, so I found out your name and asked the priest to escort us here.” Her sharp gaze rested on a silver antique mirror.

“I’m sorry I caused you distress, Mrs. Summers,” Raven said sweetly. “I’ve had a terrible case of the flu. If I had known anyone would be worried, I would have called.” She said it pointedly.

“I wanted to see you for myself.” Margaret pursed her lips together stubbornly. “We’re both Americans, and I feel responsible for you.”

“I am grateful for your concern. Raven is the light of my life.” Mikhail leaned forward with his predator’s smile. “I am Mikhail Dubrinsky. I do not believe we have been formally introduced.”

Margaret hesitated; then, with a lift of her chin, she placed her hand in his and muttered her name. Mikhail oozed goodwill and love spiced mischievously with a healthy dose of lust for Raven.

Shelly eagerly introduced herself. “Mr. Dubrinsky?”

“Mikhail, please.” His charm was so intense, Shelly nearly fell off her chair.

She wiggled a lot and crossed her legs to give him a better view. “Mikhail, then.” Shelly flashed a coquettish smile. “Father Hummer tells us you are somewhat of a historian and would know all the folklore in and around the country. I’m doing a paper on folklore. Specifically, if there is any truth to the local legends. Would you know anything about vampires?”

Raven blinked, tried not to burst out laughing. Shelly was definitely in earnest, and she had fallen for Mikhail’s magnetism. She would be very embarrassed if Raven laughed. She concentrated on Mikhail’s thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. It helped her feel stronger.

“Vampires.” Mikhail repeated the term matter-of-factly. “Of course the most popular area for vampires is in Transylvania, but we have our own stories. All through the Carpathian Mountains there are extraordinary tales. There is a tour, following Jonathan Harker’s route to Transylvania. I am sure you would find it most enjoyable.”

Margaret leaned forward. “Do you believe there is truth to the stories?”

“Mrs, Summers!” Raven showed her shock. “You don’t, do you?”

Margaret’s face closed down, her lips pursed again belligerently.

“I always have believed there is a grain of truth in nearly every story handed down through the ages. Perhaps that is what Mrs. Summers believes,” Mikhail said gently.

Margaret nodded her head, relaxed visibly, and bestowed a benevolent smile on Mikhail. “I’m so glad we agree, Mr. Dubrinsky. A man in your position should certainly be a man with an open mind. How could so many people over hundreds of years tell such similar stories without some truth to the legend?”

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