Called by the Vampire - Part 1

by V. Vaughn

  I reach out, and the fabric is luxuriously soft on my fingers when I touch it. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Yes...” Alexander frowns as if he’s lost in thought. He snaps himself out of it and says, “Well then. I’ll let you get settled.” He steps into the bathroom, and I think he’s checking to make sure everything is okay. He comes back out and says, “The dining room is on the first floor, but we’ll have drinks in the study first. That’s the room where we just met.”

  “Got it. Thank you.”

  When he gets to the door, he stops and gazes at me as if he wants to say something, but instead he slaps the doorframe once before he leaves, and the solid door thuds shut behind him. I walk around my section of the house, which resembles an apartment. The floor is thick slabs of dark wood covered with floral throw rugs, and when I check out the bathroom, I sigh in pleasure. A large claw-foot tub gleams in an invitation to take a bath, and I long to soak in it. This room is also white, and it strikes me as odd how bright my space is compared to the rest of the mansion.

  I return to my bedroom, and a drawer in my white dresser scrapes as I open it. A light scent of lilac wafts out, and I discover a small sachet along with three bra-and-panty sets. I lift up the fine lace, and it’s smooth under my fingers. While it looks functional, I don’t think I’ve ever held prettier lingerie. I remove the cream-colored set and place them on my bed to change into for dinner. When I pull out my plain cotton underwear from my bag, it appears worn and dowdy in comparison to what’s in my bureau, and I opt to put them back in my bag for now. I could easily become a snob at this rate.

  I freshen up and get dressed for dinner. When I’m almost ready, I gaze at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The combination of wearing fabrics that caress my body and the fit of my dress makes me feel beautiful. I put my hair up, and when I recall Alexander saying my curls bounce, I tug a few out to frame my face. Then I think about Sebastian. My heart sends twinges of desire to the pit of my belly as I imagine his approval. I drag my finger down my chest over the silk dress, which covers my transplant scar. It tingles under my touch as I wonder what my donor thinks is going to happen. Silly heart. I think pleasing Sebastian is going to be a difficult task that will take more than a pretty gown. I put on the black patent-leather pumps I find in my closet, and my heels click as I walk toward the door.

  A girl could get a workout in this house just using the stairs. I descend three flights and take a deep breath to fill my lungs with much-needed oxygen before I make my way to the study. The doors are open, and the formality of the house makes me pause as if I’m eighteenth-century royalty who should make an entrance. I glance over at the two love seats set before a crackling fire.

  Both men are standing by a wet bar off to the side, and Alexander places his hand on his chest when he sees me. “Simply stunning, Margaret.”

  I walk toward them as my cheeks flush with heat. “Thank you.” I glance at Sebastian, and now my foolish heart makes my insides tremble, because he’s looking at me as if I am beautiful. He actually cracks a smile.

  “Yes. You look lovely.”

  I’m taken aback at this version of my boss and say, “Thank you, sir.”

  “Sebastian.” His voice is warm and soft, and my heart is melting into a puddle as he says, “Please.”

  I speak with the same softness. “Sebastian.” His name rolls off my tongue in a sensual way, and I have a sudden desire to keep repeating it.

  Fortunately, before I can make a fool of myself, Alexander asks, “Would you like champagne or wine?”

  The men appear to have red wine in their glasses, judging by the burgundy liquid, but I’d prefer the other option Sebastian presented me with and wonder how they know. I say, “Champagne would be wonderful and fitting for tonight. I feel as if I’ve stepped into a wonderful opportunity.”

  A cork pops, and Sebastian says, “That’s because it is.”

  A flicker of anger in my heart surprises me, but I’m distracted when Alexander hands me my glass, and I sip the bubbly liquid. It’s smooth in flavor, and I lick my lips after I swallow it down. “This is delicious.”

  “Renault is one of my favorites too,” says Alexander. I meet his gaze, and a tiny tremor races through me.

  I feel the weight of Sebastian’s gaze and turn to discover his eyes have narrowed, and I ask, “When do I find out what my duties are?”

  He says, “Tomorrow. Tonight, we’d like to learn more about you.”

  I smile. “I’m not sure what I can tell you that you don’t already know.” I think about the endless documents I had to produce for this job. “Besides the things I provided you, the social life of my grade-school years is documented on social media, which I’m sure you checked. My medical records tell you what I did when everyone else went off to universities and why I could only afford a community college education.”

  “I want to know your dreams.” Sebastian lifts his glass of wine and swirls it as if he’s looking into its depths for answers. “Tell us, Margaret, what do you want out of life?”

  To be loved by a man who makes me want for nothing else. I take a sip of my champagne to think for a moment about how to answer. “Most of my life, all I wanted was to be healthy so I could live. And when I got a new heart, all I wanted was for my body to accept it so I could live.” I shrug. “I guess now my goal is to really live.”

  Alexander and Sebastian exchange glances that make me think they’re concerned. What about, I can’t imagine. It’s not as if I said I wanted to be a rock star or actress and they have to figure out how to let me down easy.

  Sebastian says, “You’ll have to tell us what really living is for you, Margaret.”

  The way he repeats my phrase sounds condescending, and I’d feel shamed if my heart didn’t trip over the attention. This day is getting stranger and stranger.

  Alexander glances at his wrist, and I notice a square-shaped watch that looks like the latest technology. It seems odd he’d wear a plastic timepiece when his appearance suggests he’s an antique-watch kind of guy. His smile covers his face when he says, “Apparently you can teach an old dog new tricks.” He winks at me. “Bertha’s learning to text. It’s time for dinner.”

  I guess he’s talking about the woman who greeted me earlier, and I stifle my laughter at him calling her an old dog. The way Sebastian’s glaring at Alexander tells me he is not amused by his brother. I think I was right about his lack of humor. Hey, heart, your love is kind of uptight. I follow Alexander as he leads us to the dining room.

  The table is large enough for at least eight people, but it’s set for three. Sebastian cuts his brother off when he tries to seat me, and I let the older brother push my chair in as if I’m a child. I would be flattered if I believed they were fighting over me, but I think the power struggle is about something else.

  Chapter 3

  Alexander takes the place across from me, while Sebastian sits at the head of the table. I glance between the two brothers and consider my situation. My heart is attracted to Sebastian, while I prefer Alexander. I’m sure I shouldn’t get involved with either one, but when you live life not knowing how much longer you’ve got, worrying about the future doesn’t matter. A tingle of excitement races through me as I swallow down the last of my champagne and smile. Bertha wheels in a rolling cart with plates that have fancy metal covers, and they rattle when she removes them. She presents us all with dinners arranged as if we’re at an expensive restaurant. I gaze down at my filet mignon set on top of what I think is potatoes, and there’s a side of asparagus. The aroma of the beef makes my mouth water as I wait for her to finish serving us. A decanter of red wine is on the table as well as a small carafe of white, and Bertha pours me a glass of the white before she fills the men’s glasses with more of the red.

  I try to catch her eye, but she won’t look at me, so I say, “This looks wonderful. Thank you.”

  The woman ignores me and stands by Sebastian. He says, “That will be all. Thank you, Bertha.”
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  When she leaves, we begin to eat. Silverware clatters as I cut my steak and do my best to chew slowly, because the meal is the best I’ve ever had. Going out to dinner wasn’t something Mom and I did, considering we were in a constant state of trying to make financial ends meet.

  “How is your meal?” asks Sebastian.

  “Delicious,” I say. I notice he and Alexander haven’t eaten much. “Is there something wrong with it?”

  Alexander sighs dramatically. “I’m afraid we both prefer fish. I don’t know, Sebastian. It’s been so long since we’ve had beef, I fear I’ve lost the taste for it.”

  Sebastian says, “Yes. Me too, I’m afraid.” He gazes at me. “Please don’t let us stop you, Margaret. There’s no sense in wasting a perfectly good dinner.”

  “I’m not going to let you stop me. I haven’t had a steak this amazing ever.” I lift another bite to my mouth. The meat practically melts on my tongue, and while I could take or leave hamburger before, I’ve now gained a new appreciation for beef.

  “Filet mignon is definitely the best cut, in my opinion,” says Alexander. “Now, I know some prefer a good rib eye or T-bone, but not me. Prime rib, on the other hand—”

  Sebastian clears his throat, and Alexander stops talking. Sebastian says, “Let’s get back to what really living is for you, Margaret. You majored in English. Do you have any aspirations of becoming a writer?”

  I take a sip of my wine and let the sweet flavor sit on my tongue before I swallow to wash down my food. I say, “I do like to write, but I haven’t experienced much to write about. I’m not sure the life of a child with heart disease is very fascinating.”

  “Oh, you don’t need to experience something to write about it,” says Alexander. “Do you think Stephen King has ever murdered someone? Or witnessed the events he writes about?”

  I chuckle. “No. I suppose not.”

  Alexander taps his forehead. “It’s all in the imagination.” His gaze darts down to my chest and back up so quickly I’m not sure it happened. “You’re an adventurous girl taking a job in a place you’ve never been with men you hadn’t met. I bet you have plenty of ideas you could write about.”

  I think about the fantasies I had about what coming here would be like and smile, because I do have an active imagination. Sebastian asks, “What do you like to read?”

  “Stephen King. Greg Iles. I’m a huge horror and murder-mystery fan.”

  Alexander raises his eyebrows at me. “No romance?”

  I shake my head. “God no. I don’t need to read about men tearing off women’s clothes and making them fall in love in an instant.”

  Alexander tsks at me as he leans forward and says, “I think you need to be enlightened.”

  His voice makes my body take notice, and a hint of desire flows through me as I wonder if he has ideas for me beyond books. Sebastian says, “Yes. Go find her something suitable to read tonight.”

  I frown as Alexander’s chair scrapes across the floor, and he stands up. I never expected these two men would read romance. I turn to Sebastian. His lips turn up in a smile before he asks, “Surprised?”

  “Yes. I would have pegged you as the literary type.”

  “I read almost anything.” His gaze bores into me as he lifts his wine glass, and my heart directs my physical attraction I had for Alexander to Sebastian. I turn my attention back to my meal before he can tell.

  Alexander’s feet thump lightly over the oriental carpet when he returns, and he hands me a book. It’s cool in my hands as I hold it. I read the cover out loud. “Teach Me, by Brock McGillis.”

  “Sorry,” says Alexander as he seats himself across from me. “I couldn’t resist.” He has a twinkle in his eye.

  I look at the cover to see there’s an image of a girl sandwiched between two men, and when I realize it’s probably a story about ménage à trois, heat rises to my cheeks. I stammer, “You-You mean the title, right?”

  “Of course he does,” says Sebastian in a firm voice. “You’ll read it tonight, and I expect to hear your thoughts in the morning.”

  Bertha has come into the room, and when she removes my dinner plate, I clutch the book to my chest to keep her from seeing the cover. Sebastian says, “You can retire to your chambers to read now, Margaret. Would you like me to have Bertha bring you some tea later?”

  Grateful I’ve been dismissed before the conversation gets more uncomfortable, I say, “Yes. Thank you.” My mind is reeling over the fact that my first assignment is to read a sexy romance novel. I had the silly notion I would be flirting with two men over dinner, but I’m beginning to feel as if I’m in way over my head with these guys.

  Alexander says, “I bet you like cookies. I’ll make sure she brings some of those too.”

  “That would be great.” The men stand, so I do too. We all walk toward the front of the house, where I begin to climb the stairs.

  Sebastian calls my name, and I turn to him. “Pleasant dreams..”

  His voice is soft, and maybe the sex I’m about to read is clouding my judgment, but the deep timbre of his words makes my skin tingle, and suddenly my given name doesn’t seem so awful. “You too.”

  When I get to my room, the book thuds on my bed where I toss it. As I remove my dress, I think about the tub and decide to draw a bath. If I’m going to spend my night reading in my room, I may as well enjoy my new amenities.

  The old taps squeak as I turn them on, and water rushes with powerful pressure. Candles are on a shelf next to the bathtub, and I find matches in a small box near one to light them. I lift a towel so thick it’s heavy and set it on the bench seat, and I grab the robe I saw hanging in my closet.

  Before I slither out of my lingerie, I grab the book. It’s not a thick novel, and I expect I won’t have much trouble finishing it in a night. I stare at the image as I wander back to my closet. I imagine what it would be like to have two men attending to my sexual needs and can’t quite fathom how it would all work. I smile when I think about how Alexander picked it for the title and what this book might teach me.

  The candles I lit fill the bathroom with the same lilac scent of my sachets, and I wonder if it might be Bertha’s favorite. It’s pleasant, and I sigh when I step into the heat of my bath. I grab a hand towel and fold it to cushion my neck as I lean back and open up the book.

  Within the first page, I’m hooked. The pace is quick, and I’m sucked into the love triangle of a girl and two best friends. At the end of each chapter, I’m left wanting to turn the page for more. So I don’t notice how long I’ve soaked until my water is cold. I get out and quickly apply lotion to my skin and wrap up in my robe so I can get back to the story.

  I take a break when a soft knock at my door reveals Bertha. She enters with a tray that has a small pot, a delicate-looking teacup and saucer, sugar cubes, and a plate of butter cookies. The tray’s contents clatter as she sets it down. The woman refuses to look at me, so I ask, “Did you get this room ready for me?” She doesn’t answer, and as she walks to the door, I say, “Thank you. Everything is wonderful, and the lilac scent in here is lovely.”

  Bertha turns and glares at me as she says, “That was Sebastian’s doing. Leave the tray out in the hall when you’re done.” The door snicks shut behind her as she closes it.

  My heart hurts with the emotion of sadness, and I wonder about the significance of lilac for my donor. I’d like to ask Sebastian about it, but something tells me I need to tread carefully around him. Hot liquid trickles into my teacup, and I curl up on the love seat in my room to finish my book.

  The author is a master storyteller, because I get teary-eyed when the heroine thinks she’s lost both men, and the sex scenes make me blush. I finish the book with a sigh and am amazed I’ll probably lie in bed tonight with the characters on my mind as if they’re real people.

  After I brush my teeth and change into pajamas, I do lie in bed and think about the book. But my mind turns to sexy thoughts as I begin to fantasize about Alexander Hart touc
hing me. The image in my mind assists my self-gratification, and I lie in a drowsy state from it as I stare out my bedroom window. The moon is almost full and glimmers on the water as stars twinkle in the sky. When I begin to think about Alexander again, my heart interrupts me to flood me with warmth for Sebastian, and my fantasy becomes about him instead. I fall asleep with the vision of being in Sebastian’s arms.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, I pull on my yoga pants and a T-shirt to wander downstairs and find breakfast. Alexander is in the kitchen drinking from a mug, and the aroma of coffee fills the air. There are windows in the room, but the heavy shades are drawn, blocking out the daylight. And even though the lights are bright enough, I long to let in the sun that filled my room earlier. He hops up when he sees me. “Good morning, Margaret.”

  “Good morning.” I smile at him as he steps behind the kitchen island. He’s wearing dress slacks and a tailored dress shirt that emphasizes his developed muscles. I’m comfortable enough with Alexander that I take a chance. “I hate being called Margaret. Please call me Maggie?”

  He scrunches up his face as he dons a large white apron that is so white and crisp looking it has to be new. “No can do. Sebastian wouldn’t like it.”

  How odd. I wouldn’t have expected Alexander to care about his brother’s wishes. I say, “Oh. Okay.”

  He asks, “Coffee? It’s decaf.”

  I smile at the thoughtfulness since I avoid caffeine, and I wonder where he discovered that information. “Yes, please. But I can get it.”

  “No.” He waves his arm at the stools for the island. “Sit. What do you like in it?”

  The seat is hard under my bottom when I climb on it and say, “Cream would be nice.”

  He prepares my drink and sets it before me as he asks, “Did you like the book?”

  A spoon clinks against my coffee mug as I stir. “I did. The writer pulled me in from page one. I was impressed.”