The Blood Covenant: Book One of The Medici Warrior Series

by Emily Bex

  As he arrives at the venue, he sees Rissa and Alec, as Alec throws up his hand in acknowledgement and Shade nods. No need to talk, Alec knows why he is here, but Shade has a different agenda, and her name is Kate Reese.

  He has been hanging back on the dream-walking lately. After the incident with the rose petals, he does not want to scare her off. But he has a few tricks up his sleeve to bring her around. He casually makes his way through the throng of people, as he looks around the room for her.

  He senses she isn’t here yet, and he doesn’t pick up the scent of her rose perfume. He keeps himself busy, admiring the art while sipping at his glass of Midnight. He keeps a low profile, not engaging with anyone in the crowd. He waits patiently. She will be here, and she will not be able to resist him.

  ***

  Kate has spent the last two hours getting ready for the charity event. She has chosen a form fitting black sheath dress worn off the shoulders. She only wore it once before and it drew a little more attention than she wanted, so it ended up in the back of the closet. But Shannon convinced her to pull that dress out again, paired with the Jimmy Choo zebra print shoes with one bright hit of red. She wears her hair down, even though this is a somewhat formal event. Shade is drawn to her hair. It didn't take long for her to pick up on that. She checks her make-up one last time before heading to the parking garage to get her car.

  She drives the red Mazda Miata two-seater instead of taking the Metro. She has no desire to walk far in these shoes. Standing on her feet at a cocktail party all evening will be torture enough.

  The National Gallery of Art sits right smack in the middle of Constitution Avenue, so there is no parking, but Rissa has arranged for a valet service. As she pulls up, she is able to drop off her car and run inside. There must be close to two thousand people here. They plan to do a silent art auction of some local artist to raise money, so they have select galleries set aside to display those works. There is wait staff everywhere, and she is only inside a few minutes before she is approached and has a glass of white wine in her hands. She wanders through the throngs of people, chatting with a few as she goes. Looking around the crowd discreetly, she doesn’t see him. She finds a semi-quiet spot to sit down so she can watch the crowd.

  ***

  Shade stays well away from the crowds, and then he picks up her scent. She is here, just as he knew she would be. He follows her scent and finds her sitting quietly, drinking the white wine and watching the people. He hangs back, hidden from her view and watches her eyes as she scans the crowd. He does not want to seem too eager. He keeps moving around the one smaller gallery, which holds at least a hundred people, never taking his eyes off of her. She sits with her legs crossed, the tight black sheath dress exposing her thighs. She looks amazing. Her crimson hair hangs over those white shoulders. He loves her hair down, and his beast comes to the surface, licking his chops. Not yet wicked boy, just hang in there. We have to reel this one in slowly.

  He makes sure to stay clear of her line of vision, letting her wait a bit, but damn, he wants to see those shoes work that sweet ass across the floor. He has never wanted a woman more than this one, and he has been with many women.

  ***

  Kate polishes off the wine. It is the liquid courage she will need to face him. Talking to him on the phone is one thing. Standing next to him, well, that's quite another. She stands and starts to walk through the crowd, grabbing another glass of white wine from a passing waiter. There are a lot of recognizable faces in this crowd tonight, the faces she sees on the society page of the Washington Post, but she doesn’t know them personally. She can't even imagine the collective wealth of the people in this room. She wonders, and not for the first time, why Rissa invited her to this event. There is no way she can bid on this art.

  She looks for him as she walks through the crowd, but if he is here, he is managing to keep his distance from her. She is wondering if he bothered to show up, or if he has already moved on to some other ‘distraction’. Rissa's words keep ringing in her ears, and she wonders, for the hundredth time, why she is setting herself up for the fall.

  ***

  He watches her move through the throng and his eyes are glued to her. He balls his hands into fists at his side, as he resists the desire to slide them over that incredible ass. Her dress is black, sleek and off the shoulders. Perfection. The heels draw his focus to her slender ankles, the curve of her calves and the plumpness of her ass, accentuating the curves of her luscious body. This woman was made for loving and loving well.

  He slowly makes his way to her, still slipping in and out of the people in the crowd, staying out of her view. She finally stops in front of a beautiful piece of art and stands and stares. He walks up behind her, softly slides his hand around her waist and snuggles into her neck, speaking to her in a low, deep voice, his mouth close to her ear.

  “Your legs are looking beautiful this evening, mi amore.”

  ***

  She is staring at a painting by Renoir, sipping the wine, when she feels a hand slide around her waist, and feels his breath on her neck, as that familiar voice whispers to her about her legs. She gasps at the unexpectedness and feels the goose bumps on her skin. Her first impulse is to bolt, but she takes a deep breath as she turns to look at him, those blue eyes holding her. I need to channel my inner Shannon! What would Shannon do? Oh, good Lord, I can't do that.

  She finds the courage to speak, trying hard not to stammer like an idiot. “Mr. Medici... and don't you look deliciously handsome tonight.”

  He does not wear an aftershave, but he has a scent that is all male. And it intoxicates her.

  ***

  He feels her trepidation, but she fights it. She wants to face him, be with him, and he is amused. Most women would be on top of him by now, inviting him to their place, but not this one. He stares down at beautiful brown eyes that shimmer in the light, shot through with flecks of amber. The backs of his fingers glide slowly up and down her bare arm, and he can feel the goose bumps on her skin. He drops his hand, and catches her hand in his. Staring deep into her eyes, he lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it gently.

  “Almost as delicious as you.” He winks and keeps hold of her hand. “I do believe you should wear Choo’s more often. They suit you, mi amore.” He slides his eyes to the painting. “Renoir, si? I am not well acquainted with art, but I do know a bit about the masters.”

  ***

  As he kisses her hand, she watches his lips graze her skin. His touch is electric. In a breathy voice, she answers him, “Renoir, yes. I spent so many hours in the Musee d’ Orsay in Paris, looking at all of the impressionist period art. It is one of my favorite periods in art, except for the Renaissance period in Florence, of course. It's like walking through history, isn't it?”

  “Oh si, Kate. So tell me,” he rolls his eyes down to her, smiling, “do you like Paris or Florence more?”

  “Oh, that would be a hard choice to make, they are both beautiful cities. I hope you do not take offense sir, but I think I would have to say Paris. I love everything about that city; the art, the architecture, the food. And even the people. I know they say the French hate the Americans, but I have really not had that experience. I found them quite welcoming. Have you traveled to Paris, Shade?”

  He feels his heart skip a beat when she says his name. It rolls off her ruby red lips like wine, sweet tempting wine. It takes all he has not to lean down and kiss her. Damn this woman was made for kissing. And one hell of a lot more!

  “J’ai voyagé à Paris plusieurs fois ma douce. J'aime l'architecture et le vin. C'est un endroit où les amoureux aiment oui?”

  She laughs out loud. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you just said. I love Paris, but I don't speak French, or Italian. Perhaps...you could teach me...something." Careful Kate, you are getting dangerously close to a line Shannon would use.

  He chuckles as he slides his finger under her chin and looks deep into her eyes. “I said, I have traveled to Paris several times,
my sweet. I loved the architecture, the wine. It is a place for lovers, si? But, what can I teach you? We shall start simple. Repeat after me. Vorrei un bacio, per favore. This is Italian. Now, repeat.”

  She looks into his eyes as he speaks, mesmerized. “Vorrei un bacio, per favore. Now please, tell me what I just said.”

  He smiles down at her. “Well done! I will show you instead, si?” Leaning down, he kisses her softly on the lips, and they are sweet like sugar and he wants more.

  ***

  The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and ends too quickly. She opens her eyes to look at him, and he takes her breath away. “Oh... how do you say that again? Maybe you should write it down for me.”

  He loves the wide-eyed look on her face, almost begging him to kiss her again, and again. And who is he not to oblige. “Let us repeat the phrase in French. Je voudrais un baiser s'il vous plaît. Now repeat.”

  She likes this game. She wonders how many languages he speaks and how many kisses she can steal. This could be fun to explore. "Je voudrais un baiser s'il vous plait."

  He slides his hand along her cheek and down to her neck before sliding both hands under her hair. He gently lifts her face to his as he kisses her slowly, letting his kiss entrance her. He slides his tongue slowly around hers, letting her know, he likes kissing, and he loves kissing her. She almost melts in his hands. Pulling back, he kisses her again, softly and quickly. Cazzo! I feel my body come alive, my blood is sizzling in my veins to have her.

  “I do believe, you would call that a French kiss, oui?”

  ***

  He gives her a kiss that brings every cell in her body alive, and at the same time, leaves her weak in the knees. His hand glides through her hair and cups her face as he pulls her into him, his tongue explores her mouth, and she feels the fire building in her belly. When he breaks away, she almost staggers, her eyes still closed, and he speaks to her, but she has to concentrate to remember his words.

  "What? Oh... oui, French kiss indeed, sir.”

  He chuckles softly. “Careful Kate, you will fall off your stilts. Come along, I think I saw a painting in one of these rooms I would like to bid on. Would you oblige me with your worldly opinion?” He bows slightly to her. “I would be most grateful.”

  She slips her arm into his, and thank goodness, because after that kiss, she’s really not sure she could stand unassisted. "Of course, I would love to see it. I'm no art expert by any means, but I know what I like." She looks up at him through the red bangs that frame her face.

  He looks at her with those eyes and her meaning comes across quite clear. “It’s always good to know what you like and go after it.”

  As they stroll casually through the crowd, he weaves them through a few galleries and finally finds the room where the painting hangs. “Ah, here we are. Tell me what you think of this. It reminds me a great deal of the property I just acquired in Virginia.” Standing behind her, he lays his hands gently on her hips and inhales the scent of roses in her hair.

  It is a beautiful painting of the Virginia countryside, painted to reflect the early fall, when the leaves are just beginning to change. It depicts a narrow country road, lined with white rail fencing, like so many of the horse farms scattered through Virginia.

  “This is beautiful, Shade. I love Virginia, and the mountains. I grew up in Charleston, S.C. It's called the "low country", and is flat as a pancake. So I was always drawn to the rolling hills and the mountains here. Where did you buy property?”

  “I am not familiar with Charleston, but my property is in White Hall, right at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It does have a vineyard, a lot of territory, but it needs a great amount of work and renovation. So, I thought I detected a slight accent. Perhaps that is your native Charleston coming through?”

  He slides his hand softly against her neck, brushing her hair back and kissing her neck gently as he whispers. “It is extremely charming when you speak.”

  His attention to her neck makes answering him almost impossible. She closes her eyes as she feels his hot breath on her skin. As he stands up straight again, she struggles to get her thoughts organized in her head. “White Hall... I'm familiar with it, just outside of Charlottesville, right? I would love to see it.”

  She steps slightly away from him and re-directs her attention to the piece of art on the wall, trying to compose herself.

  “Are you going to bid on this piece? I think you should, and yes, I do have a very slight accent. It was never very strong to begin with, and then I moved to D.C. when I started college, and never moved back. D.C. is so international. Since living here, I think I have lost a lot of my accent. I rarely get back home now. My job keeps me too busy.”

  He smiles as she speaks, and he loves when she looks at him. He feels like she is more relaxed, but he still feels her pulling back slightly and he finds it very entertaining. He likes her charm and wit. She is not like other women. She has her own style and knows who she is.

  “You know, Kate , I have enjoyed myself very much this evening, and I do believe it is the first time I have been able to fully enjoy your company, and I thank you. Yes, I do believe I shall bid on this piece. What do you think I should bid?”

  “Well, here is my strategy at silent auctions. If it is a piece I like, but don't love, then I put down what I am willing to pay and hope for the best. If I get out-bid, then... oh well, it was not meant to be. But if I see something I want, something I must have, then I will risk everything. I will put some obscene bid in. Something way over my budget, by the way, and hope the high bid scares off any competitors for the piece. So I guess my question to you is… how bad do you want it?” She flashes him another look with a sly smile before she feels the blush climb up her face.

  He takes her in his arms, kisses each blushing cheek, then runs his hand through her glorious red hair and looks down at her, a wicked smile on his face. “Oh I want it very bad, and I am willing to risk it all. But in the end, will it be as rewarding as I had hoped it would be? Now, I think perhaps $2,000 should be a good start, si?”

  His remark sets her back. Will it be as rewarding as he had hoped it would be? She looks down at the floor. Even if Rissa has exaggerated her claims about him, this is a man who is clearly comfortable around women. She feels her self-doubt creeping in. Why would she think she could ever compete with all the women he has the options to choose from? Why would a man like this ever be interested in her for anything other than a booty-call?

  “Oh, I think $2,000 is good. But I'm not sure $2,000 will scare away competitors in this crowd. So I would say... you like it... you don't love it.”

  He chuckles, “Perhaps. But you misjudge me, Kate Reese. I always get what I want, and I would lose it all for something I truly feel I deserve. I think I will put in my bid, as is. If I am meant to have it, then it will be. But there are some things worth paying a high price for.” He tips her chin up to his face. “And you can never truly enjoy something so beautiful if you do not have to fight to win it, keep it and truly call it your own. Now, may I escort you home? I would not want you out so late on your own. I would be quite a rogue to let that occur.”

  He lifts her face to his and locks her in the gaze of those piercing blue eyes. “I... uh... I drove here, but you could escort me out to the valet, and wait with me until they bring my car around.”

  “Si, grazie! May I?” He takes her arm as he leads her to the door, and he sees Rissa staring and shaking her head, laughing. Fucking bitch! As they go outside, he realizes Kate has no wrap.

  “Mi amore, your wrap? Please take my jacket. “He slips off his tuxedo jacket and slides it over her, letting his hands glide over the soft skin of her shoulders. He hands the valet the ticket.

  “I didn’t wear a wrap this evening. I was in such a hurry to get here, it never crossed my mind.”

  “Si. You should be more careful. You could catch a chill in this fall weather. I have enjoyed my evening very much. I hope I was not a bore, and I will let yo
u know if I get the painting. Perhaps you could help me hang it if I am so lucky to win it, si?”

  “I would like that very much. And thank you for the jacket. I forgot how chilly it gets in the fall once the sun goes down.” She can feel his body heat from the jacket, warming her bare skin, and his scent permeates the fabric. She inhales him. This evening has gone by much too fast. She hates leaving him, but she dare not invite him home. Way too soon to invite him home.

  “Please take the jacket and wear it home to keep you warm. I am sure we will see each other again soon.” He sees the valet pulling up in a red Miata and he has watched her enough to know it is hers. Taking her into his arms, he pulls her close. “I wish to see you again. I hope the feeling is mutual.”

  Leaning down, he slides his hand to the back of her head, pulls her face to his and kisses her deeply, letting his tongue explore her mouth, feeling the softness of her, the crimson tangled in his fingers. He could die one happy ass vampire right now if he didn’t want so much more from her, so damn much more. She is his and he will claim her as such, but he needs patience. Breaking the kiss, he looks into her eyes.

  “Be safe, mi amore, until we meet again.” He walks her around to the driver’s side, taking her hand and helping her into the car, tucking in his jacket sleeves. “Watch those shoes, no breaking a heel.” Laughing, he closes the car door and stands back to watch her drive away. He wonders how long he will be able to wait before his beast gets the best of him, wanting her, needing her.

  ***

  Kate’s head is spinning. He gave her another one of those kisses that leave her brain addled. She doubts she could remember her own name after that kiss. She looks at him through the glass, and mouths the words, “good night". As she drives away, she looks for him in the rear-view mirror. His jacket over her shoulders, his scent assails her, as she realizes her rose scented perfume will be all over this jacket when she returns it. Ha! Take that you bitches! She feels like she is marking her territory. She almost runs a red light, slamming on the brakes at the last minute. Jeez Kate... stop thinking about this man and pay attention.