Married To The Mad Vampire Lord-Chapter 55: "What happened to your back?"

"No," he deadpanned, pinning her more down on the bed with his weight that wasn’t entirely on her. "I like it this way. Tell me what you learned from the knowledge you tried to seek."

What a persistent devil! Belle thought in agitation. "I didn’t try to seek it, it always seems to come to me. When one isn’t doing anything and is sitting there trying to stitch a dress as a pastime and women are gossiping behind the door, one’s ears tend to wander there to listen and hear what they talk about, and when married women come together like that, they only have one topic: their married life!" She exclaimed in frustration, but her husband chuckled and shook his head as he said,

"Then that makes you a gossipmonger just like them. What a gossiper you are." He pinched her nose, but Belle swatted his hand away without thinking about the action and glared at him.

"I am not a gossipmonger! The gossip always brings itself to me," she said defensively, but he only laughed even more, making her angry that he didn’t believe her, and completely forgetting that she had become somewhat comfortable in his presence to the point that she was being defensive and showing her anger—something she never did with anyone as she feared displeasing them and would end up agreeing to whatever they called her in the name of trying not to make them hate her.

"You listen to gossip but did not pick up that fingering is not considered a proper consummation?" He tilted his head to the side, causing the light he had been blocking to fall on her red face that was glaring at his grinning face.

"People are decent in Aragonia; they do not use fingers," she snorted and placed her hands flat against his chest to stop him from leaning forward. But then, she only made herself touch his bare, warm skin that hummed with strength and made her stomach flutter strangely.

"How do you know? And who told you it’s indecent to finger someone, especially when that someone is one’s wife? Should I do it for you again?" he rasped, changing the topic so quickly that it caught her off guard as he pressed himself against her, causing her eyes to widen in alarm.

"No!" she said quickly, and then realizing he wasn’t a man who took no for an answer, she began to cough and rub her head. "I_i am still feeling feverish," she whispered. It was true, though she was much better than she had been a day ago, she still had the lingering after-fever feeling with a strange taste in her throat. She did not think she would stop herself from showing she liked what he did this time around if he touched her.

Something had happened to her when she woke up to find out he had been the one to look after her. Indulging in more acts that weren’t part of her plan would further be a distraction from what she was sent here to do. She was never meant to see that the mad vampire had another side to him that wasn’t madness. She was never meant to get curious about him or to want to be touched by him. If she dared to allow herself now, she would be slowly digging her own earlier grave and getting trapped in it.

She had strayed enough by letting him kiss her. Three stolen kisses were enough betrayal to her reason for being here and to the betrayal of her heart’s wishes to hold on to Jamie no matter what.

Belle closed her eyes when she saw his hand move all of a sudden, not knowing what he wanted to do until she felt it come to touch her forehead and rub her cheeks.

"You’re still burning up a bit, but you will be fine after taking your medicine," he drawled, his voice laced with smug satisfaction as he continued, "I should be awarded a damn license for this. No, better yet, they should carve my name into history as the first vampire physician to treat his human wife. Imagine that, my sweet little bunny—Lord Rohan Dagon, the unparalleled genius who mastered human medicine overnight." He smirked, clearly enjoying himself.

"Frankly, I think I’m already better than those quacks who call themselves doctors."

Belle could not help herself. She burst out laughing, unable to control it. She used her palms to cover her face and chuckled into them until her eyes burned and her stomach hurt. Because she had covered her face, she did not see that the man suspended on top of her was looking at her with clear wonderment and that, though he couldn’t feel the joy of genuine laughter, her laugh made his expression change to something entirely different. His eyes softened a bit, and his lips pulled up in what seemed to be a genuine half-smile.

He did not know a person could have such an adorable laugh like his bunny. He did not know what he said to make her laugh because he had spoken the truth about being a genius, but then he thought he would like to hear more of that sound that came from her. Laughter...

When she finally stopped laughing, her hazel eyes were teary with mirth, and she was smiling until she realized he wasn’t laughing but was only staring at her. Her smile fell away, and she cleared her throat. They stared at each other without saying a word, not blinking, until Belle broke the silence and said,

"Thank you for being my doctor," she muttered, though she wasn’t fond of the fact that he had seen her without clothes. She decided to push that thought aside. "I don’t usually get sick. The last time I fell ill was a long time ago, and my... my mama was there to take care of me."

She lowered her gaze, but his fingers slipped beneath her chin, tilting her face up to meet his.

"You don’t need useless parents while I am here. I will be your doctor, your husband, and anything else you need me to be. Get used to it. Get used to me."

His thumb traced along her jaw, slow and deliberate, and when her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, he shifted the conversation.

"Where did you go that night you fell sick after the servant left you to sleep?" His dark, mischievous amusement vanished, replaced by a serious, unreadable expression.

Belle frowned. "I did not go anywhere. I fell asleep and then..." She trailed off, a distant look on her face before she looked back at him in confusion. "I had the strangest dream that night. I fell into a place like quicksand, and then I woke up feeling cold and feverish."

"What was the dream like?" he asked, and Belle told him, only for him to frown. "A cloaked figure with a big hooded head," he muttered, and then he rolled off her body and sat up, making her also push herself up to sit on the bed with her back to the bedpost as she pulled the sheets up to her chest to hide the exposing nightdress she wore.

"What a strange dream," he said tonelessly, but his expression had darkened, which Belle could not see as he’d turned his back to her.

It was when he turned that she saw his scarred back, and she blurted out before she could stop herself. "Rohan!" She called before he could move the drapes and get away from the bed. He turned over his broad shoulder to look at her, and Belle wet her lips before she said, "What happened to your back?"

As if just realizing he wasn’t wearing his shirt, he looked down at his torso and then back at her, and then a displeased frown came upon his handsome face. Fucking hell, her fever had made him so completely unaware of the fact that he was shirtless, which he had taken off to give her his body heat last night when she was shivering.

Belle noticed how his expression turned indifferent at the mention of his back, but what surprised her more was when his deadly eyes—eyes that had never truly met hers—suddenly locked onto her own.

This time, he didn’t look away like he usually did. Instead, he held her gaze, and she felt exposed—not physically, but as if he was stripping her bare at the very core, peering straight into her soul. A strange weight settled over her as he spoke, his voice layered with something she couldn’t quite place.

"Forget what you saw, Isabelle."

Before she could fully register what had happened, he was gone. She had no idea he had just compelled her. And yet, even he did not stay to see whether it had worked.

Why would she forget about his scarred back?