I don't want your money.

The words repeated themselves in his mind as Patrick watched the woman sitting quietly across from of him. It appalled him that he had made such a mistake. He had assumed, that being a circus performer, Violet would jump at the chance of a pampered life.

And he was prepared to pamper her. He would buy her dresses and jewels, take her to wherever she might desire and put her up in a nice residence somewhere conveniently close to his own house. Patrick preferred not to keep a mistress, but he knew without question that having Violet once would not quench his desire for her, so a longer term arrangement was the only possible option. Yes, he had been prepared to give her anything she wanted as long as she made herself available to him for as long as he wanted, but she had refused.

Or had she? Violet was coming with him. She knew what was going to happen between them, had even admitted her own desire. She hadn't refused him, she had only refused what he wanted to give her.  Damn it, she was a confounding woman.

Patrick watched Violet as she sat across from him, her beautiful eyes seeming to take in the lights of London glittering beyond the carriage window. He frowned. What would it be like, to be forever in the darkness? How had she gone blind? Had she ever been able to see?

He watched Violet's face intently and noticed her nostrils twitch ever so slightly.

For the first time since the beginning of their acquaintance, Patrick thought to wonder how Violet never seemed to bump into anything. And how was it that she walked with confidence and speed? Wouldn't she need to hold out her hands to feel the things around her? There was so much he didn't understand about her, so much he wanted to find out. 

The carriage rolled to a stop. A footman rushed to open the door and Patrick stepped out, turning to help Violet. She put her gloved hand in his looking the part of a perfect lady.

"You have a cherry tree." The pleasure in her voice as she made the rather unexpected remark had Patrick glancing around. 

The cherry tree at the edge of the short path that led to his town house was cold and barren. Concentrating on his senses, Patrick focused on the scents that surrounded the bark as he walked Violet to the door. The faintest smell of cherries clung to the gnarled branches.

She couldn't possibly smell what he could barely discern. "How did you know?"

Violet stopped and turned her face towards him; little wisps of black hair blew across her olive skin as she seemed to look straight at him.

"I can smell it, just like I can smell you."

Patrick found himself stepping closer, his desire to touch her growing to an unbearable pitch. He drew in her scent and smiled with pleasure. She was wet.

"And I can smell you." His fingers trailed over the soft skin of her neck and he was gratified when she didn't move away.

"Welcome my lord." His house keepers disapproving tones had Patrick turning about. Her hands folded across her large girth, Mrs Devon had her bushy brows raised in disapproval. He heard Violet's soft groan of embarrassment and couldn't help grinning. The forward woman who had no qualms about accompanying him to his residence for a bout of sex was disturbed by one middle-aged woman's  censure.

"Thank you Mrs. Devon. That will be all for this evening, you may retire," Patrick said as he moved into the foyer with Violet close behind.

"Very well my lord. Rest well my lord." Mrs. Devon moved off, leaving him to take his jacket from Violet's shoulders.

"She didn't approve."

The comment did not warrant a response, but Patrick gave one anyway as he led her up the main staircase.

"Did you expect her to?"

"I didn't expect her at all," Violet replied as they reached his bed chamber.

Changing topics, Patrick walked her to the leather armchair that faced the lit fire in the corner of the room. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, I would rather we got to it."

Patrick laughed as he regarded the stubborn set to her jaw. What kind of woman said such a thing?

The answer was evident as she stood and lifted her hands to the sleeves of her dress. A beautiful gypsy girl with black hair and olive skin said such a thing.

The first strap slid down to reveal the edge of a thin corset. Apparently Lady Summers hadn't thought to give Violet the proper undergarments to go with the dress. He swallowed hard, if she continued like this things were going to get out of hand very quickly and his intention was to take things slow and enjoy her.

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

She looked confused, almost hurt, then shrugged. "If you have changed your mind, I can leave."

Leave? Was she out of her mind? Patrick wasn't planning on letting her go anywhere. The second sleeve had come down along her arm of its own accord and now he could see the swell of two absolutely beautiful breasts.

He stepped closer, giving up on his desire to take things slow, "By all means, let's not waste time."

In a moment he had his hand around her neck and his fingers buried into the mass of her hair as he kissed her. This was no kiss meant to tease. She had taken him beyond thoughts of seduction. Now Patrick could not wait to bury himself inside the wet heat of her.

"Mmm" Her moan was music to his ears, her hands running over his shirt, his trousers. His instinct was to lessen his speed, to be gentle with her, but she was struggling out of the dress. Damn! With a tug, he pulled the offending material down and let it pool around her feet. Something landed with a dull thud, but he was too preoccupied to take notice.

"What are you?" The question came out of his mouth unbidden and was more than ironic. If anyone had the right to ask such a thing it was she, although she didn't know it.

"I am a gypsy."

Yes, she was a gypsy, his gypsy. The thought was beyond satisfying. His nose filled with her scent, his fingers traced her skin as his tongue tasted her mouth. She was heavenly, and he wanted to claim her, make her his. He couldn't wait a moment longer.

Lifting Violet, Patrick took the three steps to his bed and laid her down on the edge. With a few quick moves he slipped off her shift and the rest of her garments. Her arms came up to support her weight as he tore off his own pants. There was no time for her corset, he was harder than he could remember being in five hundred years.

"Patrick." She said his name, once, softly. It was enough to drive him over the edge. Moving over her he kissed her once, then positioned himself and thrust.

"Ahh." The pain filled sound left Violet's lips just as his head lifted in surprise.

*****

Violet bit her lip in an effort to stop herself from crying out. She was burning, down there, and it hurt damn it!

"Violet?" Patrick's voice sounded strained, and made her want to groan in complete horror. She had to tell him she decided she didn't like this mating business, and she had no idea why others liked it either. How could anyone enjoy this pain?

"Could you get off now?"

She could feel him hesitating, and then he lifted his torso higher.

"I would sweetheart, but I don't think it's a good idea."

Violet felt his fingers trail down over her corset and squeeze between their bodies.

"I think it is a good idea, I think you should..." Her words got lodged in her throat when his fingers touched a part of her that made everything in her body tingle.

"Do you like that?" His breath was hot on her cheek as Violet tried to understand the strange feelings that were spreading through her legs. Suddenly the burning didn't seem so very bad.

"I think so..." she responded hesitantly, hating that she was so uncertain, so out of control. He tugged on her corset, before whispering in her ear.

"And what about this?"

Violet arched upwards as his mouth closed over her breast. Her movement pulled him deeper inside of her. The burning was still there, but it also felt so good.

"Patrick..." Her fingers skimmed over his shoulders and dug into his hair. He flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple while his fingers played over that elusive spot below. "Ooh." The small sound was all she could make as a sweet tension began to build at the base of her stomach.

"That's it love, let it build," his voice was so soft, so tender, that the last of the tension drained out of her body. Ignoring the pain, Violet let her hands drift down Patrick's back and pulled.

"Violet!" His groan of pleasure as he slid even deeper into her brought a smile to her face. Revelling in the power, she pressed her heels into the bed and pushed up on his torso, so that he slid almost all the way out, then pulled him back again. Pleasure shot through her and made her cry out.

"Damn it Violet, wait." He was breathing hard.

"Why? It doesn't hurt anymore."

He was chuckling now, while all she wanted to do was move.

"Alright my beautiful gypsy. You just hold still and I will take care of everything."

Violet was prevented from protesting when he kissed her. His tongue invaded her mouth and her own danced with his, tasting him, loving the sweetness of his lips.

Then he was moving once more, his finger playing with that oh so sensitive spot while he stroked slowly in and out of her.

Violet moaned into his mouth, feeling the sensations building, willing him to move faster. And he did. A few moments later, his hand was no longer between them and he was pounding into her, filling her, and then something exploded and she was flying.

Violet heard Patrick's moan from far away, as all the tension in her body slowly drained out of her.  The seconds passed by with only the sound of their breaths filling the air. Violet didn't remember ever being so pleasantly relaxed. Her fingers moved of their own accord, skimming down the sweat slicked back of the man on top of her.

Patrick shifted his weight, reminding her that he was still inside her.

"Is there more?"

He chuckled as he shifted onto his arms. "Do you want more?"

Violet wasn't sure she could stand anymore pleasure, though she wouldn't refuse him if he wanted to continue.

"I'm a little bit tired but I was not sure if we were finished."

His confusion was almost tangible, "What do you mean?"

"I mean aren't you supposed to take it out if we are done?" She might have been embarrassed at her lack of knowledge, but she was too preoccupied with resisting the urge to turn her face into the hand that cupped her cheek.

"Violet, did no one ever explain to you about men and women and what they do?"

"No... not really." She was not about to tell him about the one time she had overheard Sarah and one of her boyfriends talking about what they wanted to do to each other.

"Your mother did not speaking to you about such things?"

Violet grimaced. Lady D had not talked to her about anything and the one time she had was when she discovered her father was dead...

"No. Now I'd like to get up, if you wouldn't mind."

Patrick rolled away from her as she pulled at her corset. This had all been a mistake. Pleasurable, but foolish. She couldn't possibly be in control with this man, not like this. Why hadn't she realised before how little she knew of these matters? She was a fool, a big fool.

"Thank you for...this evening. It was nice." She aimed her voice into the room, trying to follow Patrick's scent as he moved around.

"Stay," was his only response. The command rankled. If Patrick thought he could dictate to her because of what passed between them, he had another thing coming.

"No, I think I'll be getting back now." Violet slid down towards the bottom of the bed when Patrick's hands pressed down on her legs, holding her in place.

"You have got to be the most stubborn woman I've ever met! Now hold still so I can get you cleaned up."

Cleaned up? What was he talking about? Violet concentrated on the scents coming from her lower body and her lips parted in shock.

"I'm bleeding. God, what did you do?" She scrambled back, trying to move away from him. He was a blood drinker, did he bite her? But they didn't drink human blood... no it didn't make sense, and she was bleeding below, he hadn't been down there. Not his mouth. What was happening?

"Oh, no no, calm lass, it's nothing to worry about," Patrick was beside her, holding her close, his hands running down her hair. His breath held no trace of blood. She relaxed enough to acknowledge how nice it felt to be held by him. And she liked the Highland accent that crept into his voice when he was trying to sooth her.

"Am I supposed to bleed after...well after coupling?"

"Only the first time, love. Women have a sort of barrier inside," his hands swept lower as he explained, drawing circles over her thighs and relaxing her, "It tears during the first time. That's why it was painful in the beginning and that's why there is a little blood now."

"Oh." Suddenly, Violet wanted to hide. It was hardly her fault that she had not known about these things, but it still embarrassed her.

"Now, will you lie down?" This time Patrick was asking sweetly and she didn't have the will to refuse. With a simple nod she lay down and felt him move off the bed once more. The entire evening she had tried to remain in control, tried to stay in command, but now she was tired.

She heard him pour water into what she could only imagine was a basin while her hands reached for the necklace around her throat. Her fathers ring was heavy in her hand and gave her some balance.

"Here we go." Patrick's voice came to her from the edge of the bed. Violet tucked the ring back under her corset and waited. The cloth, when Patrick dragged it over her inner thigh, was cold and sent goose bumps across her skin.

"I wish you had told me, Violet."

Violet tried not to move as the material came tantalisingly close to the core of her.

"Told you what?"

The cloth stroked closer, moving softly under Patrick's manipulations.

"That you were a virgin. I would have been more careful... gone slower." His hand slowed with his words.

Violet writhed, her nerves tingling, her desire building. Was it normal to want him again so quickly?

"I don't think I would have liked slow any better Patrick... please."

"My little gypsy." She could hear the smile in his husky tone. "Don't worry, this time I'll bring you nothing but pleasure."