by Jasmine Hill
Bree raised her gaze to his and was struck again by the familiarity. His eyes, so dark gray as to be almost black, bored into hers with a knowing intensity. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. His gaze dropped to her mouth and he narrowed his eyes slightly as she swept her tongue across her lips.
He closed the distance between them, moving so smoothly that she barely perceived it.
He grasped her free hand and raised it to his lips, his mouth cool against her flushed skin. The brief contact sent a tingle shooting up her arm and she inhaled sharply. “Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Vincent.”
“Bree,” she breathed. Her heart was beating so erratically that she was sure he could hear it. She cleared her throat. “It’s nice to meet you, Vincent.”
He dropped her hand, took hold of her empty glass and exchanged it for a full one from a passing waiter. “You appear to be in need of more champagne.”
“Yes, thank you.” Unwittingly, she’d finished her entire glass while she’d been standing there gawking at him like an idiot. He must think there was something wrong with her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “You took me by surprise. I feel like I’ve met you before.”
He smiled a lopsided grin that made his refined features seem almost boyish. He didn’t answer but swept a finger down her cheek, an action that sent another electric current zinging through her.
“Beautiful Bree,” he murmured. “You’re like Deirdre of the Swallows.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“It’s a story based around Irish mythology. Deirdre was the most beautiful woman in Ireland. A druid made a prophecy that, due to her beauty, she would bring war and sorrow upon the country.” He caressed her cheek again. “I imagine that a face like yours could urge men to war.”
She shivered. The line could almost seem corny but for the intensity in his eyes, as if he would willingly slay men and shed blood solely for her.
She started, jolted out of the intense moment when Craig draped an arm around her shoulder. “Hey, Bree, we’re moving farther into the crowd to introduce ourselves to some of the others. You wanna come?”
Before she could answer, Vincent grasped her hand and tugged her from beneath Craig’s sloppy hold.
“Bree and I are just getting to know each other.” He smirked. “She’s my Cupid pairing. If she wishes to do so, perhaps she can join you later.” Vincent raised an eyebrow at her in question and she nodded her assent. She definitely didn’t want to be hauled around the crowd in a drunken embrace. Besides, she was still reeling from her encounter with Vincent, still unnerved by his uncanny, identical semblance to the man who visited her in her dreams, and she wanted to learn more about him. Also, there was a vibe to him that made her feel comfortable. In an environment that was uncertain, that simple sentiment was assuring.
He hadn’t released her hand and the continued contact was causing a vibration of energy up her arm. It wasn’t unpleasant, just an odd tingling sensation that made her very cognizant of their connection. She looked up to meet his silver stare. “Do you feel that? That sensation?”
He smiled, a small tilt of his lips that was barely perceptible. “Doesn’t that mean that we have a physical connection? A mutual attraction, even?”
“I guess so. I’ve never felt anything like it before. With anyone.”
Vincent grinned, pleased that he was affecting her in such a way. “Well I guess that makes me a lucky man.”
She blushed and dropped her gaze to her champagne glass. The act was so self-effacing, and, he imagined, so unlike her, as to endear her to him even more. It was a brief glimpse behind her usually bold and self-assured façade.
Before he could say any more, he noticed that the crowd had grown hushed. He looked towards the back of the entrance foyer, where Augustus generally made his eccentric welcoming address. The curtains around the small stage were still drawn but the lights had been lowered and the string quartet had stopped playing.
“What’s going on? Do you know?” Bree asked, her voice hushed.
He did know what was going on, but hadn’t worked out how much to tell her.
“I believe one of the hosts is making a welcoming address.” He opted for vagueness.
“How many are there?”
Of course, Estelle would be standing next to Augustus. She was his long-term lover and she never wasted an opportunity to bask in the limelight, no matter what the occasion.
“There are a few,” he prevaricated. He knew Bree wanted more than ambiguous responses from him, and he was working out how best to answer her.
She turned to face him, an eyebrow arched in enquiry. “You seem to know more than anyone else about what’s going on here.”
He was saved from responding as a drum roll thundered through the room. Typical Augustus and his dramatic entrances. The curtains parted to reveal him standing on the stage in full regalia of top hat, purple velvet suit and black cape. He held his signature cane in his left hand, the handle carved in the shape of a skull. Two priceless rubies served as the eyes. His makeup was bordering on the theatrical, his lips painted a deep crimson and his eyes heavily lined with black kohl. Estelle stood to the right of him, tall and regal, her fiery red hair coiled elaborately on top of her head and her slim body swathed in a black satin gown. They made an arresting pair.
Augustus bowed dramatically and took hold of the microphone. “Good evening, all. My name is Augustus, and this is Estelle. We welcome you to our home and to our Valentine Weekend Gala. I trust you have been enjoying our hospitality thus far.”
Applause broke out through the crowd and someone wolf-whistled. Vincent shook his head. It never failed to astound him that just the provision of alcohol and food loosened people up to such a degree.
“By this stage, you should all have been assigned your accommodations for the weekend.” Augustus continued. “Tomorrow evening we have the Valentine Gala. It will be held in the ballroom on the first level. We offer some…” He paused. “Activities throughout the day to keep you amused, until the gala starts at eight p.m. Please feel free to make yourselves at home. Now, enjoy the rest of the evening and the entertainment.” Sweeping off his top hat, he gave another dramatic bow. “I bid you good evening.”
Applause once again broke out, loud and energetic, and the conversations recommenced around them. Vincent turned to Bree. She was frowning at the spot where Augustus and Estelle had been standing moments before.
She looked up at him, concern etched in her features. “Is this a cult? Is that what this is? Some type of weird indoctrination?”
Vincent licked his lips. “Of sorts. Yes.”
Chapter Six
What the fuck? Bree gaped at Vincent. It had never occurred to her that the invitation could have anything to do with a cult. What sort were they? What were their philosophical beliefs and goals? She took a step back from Vincent, suddenly uneasy.
“It’s not what you’re thinking.” He closed the distance she’d created and spoke low in her ear. “They don’t want to indoctrinate anyone. I promise you that.” He gripped her arm and tugged her closer. “I also promise you that whatever happens, I’ll keep you safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Bree stared up at him in confusion. “What do they want with us, then? Why are we here?”
He looked over her shoulder. “I can’t tell you too much at the moment, but I want you to stick close to me. You’ll be safe with me.”
“Are you one of them? Whoever they are?”
“They are my acquaintances. I’ve known them for a long time. They do this every year. Hold a party over Valentine’s Day. It’s no different this year.”
Bree looked around. The guests were still drinking, and some had moved over to where a large banquet table had been set up. They were piling their plates with cold meat, seafood and salad. It didn’t look ominous, but then she suspected these things rarely did.
She turned back to Vincent. “You said I’d be safe with you. Why
would I need your protection at all?”
He shrugged. “I’d prefer it. There are many people here, no one that you are familiar with at all. I’d like us to stick close to each other.” He paused and smirked. “It will give me peace of mind—and we are a Cupid pairing.”
She chuckled. “I’m a trained boxer. I actually instruct. I think I’m pretty good at handling myself.”
“Perhaps. But some things require a different approach.” He held his hand out to her. “Come, are you hungry?”
She was hungry and the champagne was going to her head. “Maybe a little salad and seafood. I do need something in my stomach.”
She followed in his wake to the banquet table, where he picked up a plate and forked some salad onto it. She moved to pick up a plate of her own, but he stopped her, indicating the plate in his hand. “This is for you.”
“You’re not eating?”
“I ate earlier. I have a particular diet.” He pointed to a platter of king prawns. “Do you like these?”
She nodded and indicated the smoked salmon. “I’ll have a little of that too, and that will be enough. It’s late for a big meal.”
She swiped a small wholemeal roll from a basket and accepted her plate from him. She looked around for somewhere to sit. Standing, juggling her plate and glass and managing to eat at the same time would be next to impossible.
“This way.” Vincent nodded to an area off the entrance hall. “It’s more comfortable.”
The area turned out be a sitting room, furnished with large armchairs and a couple of matching sofas. A small fire was burning in the fireplace, giving the room a comfortable glow. She selected an armchair closest to the fire, sat and forked up some smoked salmon. It was good and as it hit her stomach, she realized how hungry she was. She ripped the roll in half and topped it with some prawn salad.
Vincent had taken a chair to her left, farthest away from the heat of the fire. He was watching her closely, and every time she looked at him, she felt a jolt of recognition. How could she have dreamt about this man so clearly when she’d never met him?
Bree swallowed her mouthful and took a sip of champagne. “You don’t drink either?”
“Not tonight.”
“Is it a cult thing? A special diet and no alcohol?” She popped a prawn into her mouth, thankful that she’d been spared the messy peeling process.
He smiled. “It’s not a cult as you know them to be. I wouldn’t say that too loudly. You might put some noses out of joint.”
“Is it just you, Augustus and Estelle?”
“No. Soren and Alexander were mingling with the guests earlier. Raven is probably getting ready for her performance. You’ve met Eleanor already.” He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “There are others.”
The peculiarity of the situation had Bree a little on edge. “So, you’re just a bunch of rich eccentrics who like throwing Valentine’s Day Galas?”
He laughed, the sound rich and resonant. “Something like that, I guess.”
Vincent wouldn’t tell her everything until it became impossible not to. He didn’t want to risk her trying to run. She wouldn’t get far, of that he was sure. No, it was better to keep her safe in the mansion with as little knowledge as possible. Possessing information would make it even more dangerous for her.
He studied her as she finished off her plate of food. He liked watching her eat. He enjoyed the way her lips closed around the fork, those succulent lips that looked so soft and pliable. He wanted to lick them, to close his teeth over the plump bottom one. He adjusted his suit pants, the zipper of which had grown uncomfortably tight. Fuck. He shoved a hand through his hair, frustration eating at him. It’d been years since he’d been so affected by a woman. What was it about Bree that had him acting like a horny teenager? He dropped his gaze to her crossed legs. Her dress had ridden up, exposing a smooth and supple thigh.
“You didn’t answer me before,” she murmured.
He looked up. She was licking champagne off her bottom lip and he groaned inwardly.
“What was the question?”
“I said that I thought we’d met before.” She cocked her head to the side. “I do feel like I know you.”
That was something, at least. If she felt that she knew him, she’d trust him, and he needed her trust to keep her safe. She did know him. He’d visited her on many occasions and watched over her sleeping form. There was something that drew him to her, and she reminded him of Elizabeth, his long-ago love, the memory of whom had never quite left him. He needed to protect her even though she was handy in that department herself. He’d watched her training and instructing her boxing sessions, had been impressed with her strength and agility. She had confidence and determination in spades, but she was out of her league here. All of them were.
He scratched his chin, debating what to say to her. “Perhaps we’ve met in a past life.” He leaned towards her. “These things happen, you know.”
She smiled. “Perhaps that’s it.”
Before she was able to say anything else, music from the foyer drowned out all possible conversation. The show had begun.
Chapter Seven
Bree stared at the exotic beauty standing center stage, a spotlight highlighting her voluptuous figure to full effect. Her gown looked almost translucent, only the strategically placed, sparkling red crystals revealing that she was wearing a gown at all. Her full red lips, porcelain complexion and ebony hair combined to present a striking figure under the shaft of light.
Vincent grasped Bree’s hips and positioned her back to his front. He dropped his head to speak in her ear. “That’s Raven. She’s quite good.”
Bree recognized the distinctive opening notes to the song Fever. The spotlight’s beam widened to reveal four women standing behind Raven, their lithe figures clad in tight red cat suits, their bodies swaying seductively as they worked in unison to provide the characteristic finger pops to the song.
“Never know how much I love you. Never know how much I care…”
Vincent was right. Raven was good. Her low and sultry timbre matched the sexy song’s vibe perfectly, as did her performance. She swayed and shimmied in perfect synchronicity to the sensual beat of the music.
“You give me fever when you kiss me. Fever when you hold me tight…”
Vincent spoke in Bree’s ear again, his breath sending delicious tingles down her spine. “She chooses songs that tend towards the sensual side.”
The song ended and there was a moment of silence, Bree suspecting that the audience had become almost spellbound by the performance. After a beat, a burst of applause erupted around them, along with some loud wolf-whistles and calls for more.
Raven smiled seductively and licked her full red lips before launching into a rendition of I Put a Spell on You.
Bree gazed around at the crowd. The guests were obviously enjoying the performance and the addition of alcohol only relaxed their libido. Some of them swayed against one another, hips circling and grinding to the sensual beat.
Vincent tightened his arm around her waist. “Let’s get out of here.”
She didn’t need any further prompting. Even though she was enjoying the performance and the song choices, the music was loud. She nodded and Vincent clasped her hand, swinging her around to face him. Her heart skipped a beat as he pressed against her. The power in him vibrated through her and sent a quiver to her lower belly. It’d been too long since she’d felt that way…if she’d ever felt that way. She couldn’t recall a man affecting her on so visceral a level. It wasn’t even the fact that she felt like she knew him. There was something else, an instinctual attraction that took her breath away.
She looked up at him, standing on tiptoes to speak in his ear. “What do you have in mind?”
He cupped her ass cheek and tugged her closer, his rigid cock pressing against her belly, demonstrating that the attraction was mutual. The music and Raven’s deep resonance swelled around them, the seductive beat adding to the vibrations pulsing
through her. It was intoxicating.
“Come.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him as he pushed his way through the crowd. At the base of the staircase he stopped, swooped down and swung her up into his arms. She squealed in surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He took the stairs two at a time and at such speed that it made her head spin. A moment later, they were in front of her door. She didn’t ask how he knew which one was hers and suspected he’d made it his business to find out. She fished the key out of her clutch, and he opened the door inward, slamming it closed with his foot. He took two strides and tossed her onto the bed. She shivered as the cool silk of the bedspread hit her bare back. The fire had burned down to a low smolder and the room was cold. She imagined that the old stone mansion was constantly chilly, and a fire was needed year-round.
Vincent frowned at her shiver and moved to the fireplace. He placed two logs on the existing embers and stoked the wood until the flames took hold. Rising, he removed his jacket and threw it over an antique chair then stood with his back to her, hands in pockets, studying the fire.
Bree sat up and admired the powerful expanse of his shoulders. Now that he’d removed his jacket, she noticed his size. He was bigger than she’d first thought, much more muscular.
Her stomach felt as though a thousand butterflies had taken up residence there. She took a couple of deep breaths, willing her rapidly beating heart to slow. He cocked his head to the side slightly, as if he could actually hear her blood pumping. It was the anticipation that was making her anxious. She wanted Vincent, was wildly attracted to him, but there was also an underlying danger to him that she couldn’t place. It was exhilarating and disquieting in equal measure.