by Becky Allen
He had to admire that. Inclining his head, he murmured, “Good evening.”
She lifted one delicate brow. “I repeat, what are you doing here?”
“Merely enjoying the night air,” he replied with a smile. “And I repeat, good evening.” He frowned, mystified by his inability to read her mind. It was a skill that had never failed him before and left him wondering if she was deliberately blocking him, and if so, how?
She huffed a sigh of exasperation. “Same to you.”
“You’re new in the area,” he said.
Kaitlyn nodded. He must be a longtime resident, she thought, else he wouldn’t be aware of that.
“It’s a lovely house,” he remarked. “I had intended to buy it myself.”
“Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. Our town can always use another pretty face.” He took a step forward, extending his hand. “Zackary Ravenscroft,” he said. “But my friends call me Zack.”
She descended the stairs. “Do you think we’re going to be friends?” she murmured, taking his hand.
“I hope so.”
“I’m Kaitlyn Sherrad.”
He gave her hand a slight squeeze. “Kaitlyn.”
She didn’t know if it was the sound of her name on his lips, or the touch of his hand on hers that sent a shiver of excitement racing down her spine. Startled, she jerked her hand from his and took a step backward. Who was this guy? She had never experienced a reaction like that with any other man. Stranger still was the bewildering fact that she couldn’t divine his thoughts. She supposed there were bound to be a few people whose minds she couldn’t read; still, it was disconcerting. Was there something wrong with him, she wondered, or was the problem hers? She would have to ask her father about it the next time he called.
Needing time to ponder her odd reaction to Zackary Ravenscroft and her failure to read his thoughts, Kaitlyn bid him a quick good night and hurried up the stairs and into the house. She closed and locked the door, then stood there, her back pressed against the wood. Who was that guy?
Zack stared after her for several moments before he turned and headed back down the trail toward the casino.
Kaitlyn Sherrad was a puzzle, he mused, and he hated puzzles.
Zack was still trying to unravel the mystery that was Kaitlyn when she strolled into the casino shortly after dusk the next evening. Clad in a simple pale pink dress that outlined a figure bordering on perfection and a pair of white heels that did wonderful things for her long, shapely legs, she quickly attracted the admiring gaze of every man in the place, and the envy of every woman.
“Miss Sherrad,” Zack murmured, going forward to greet her. “Welcome to my establishment.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ravenscroft.”
He made a broad gesture with his hand, encompassing the gaming portion of the nightclub. “What’s your pleasure?”
“What would you suggest? I’ve never been in a casino before.”
“Well, the slots are the easiest. The craps table is a bit confusing but probably the most exciting. Poker is a game of skill. Roulette is a game of pure chance.”
She looked thoughtful a moment. “Slot machines, I guess.”
He followed her to a bank of slots, stayed her hand when she delved into her handbag. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a fifty-dollar bill.
“First time’s on me,” he said with a wink.
“Really? Is this something you do for all of your customers?”
“No, ma’am, just the pretty ones.”
With a toss of her head, Kaitlyn took the fifty from his hand and slid the bill into the appropriate slot. A credit meter displayed the amount deposited.
“On this machine, you can play one credit or as many as five, or you can hit the button marked PLAY MAX CREDITS,” Zack explained. “After you make your choice, hit the SPIN REELS button. That’s all there is to it.”
Kaitlyn followed his directions, then watched breathlessly as the colorful wheels turned, then slowly came to a stop, showing three cherries across.
“I won!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with excitement, as credits were added to her original amount.
Zack smiled, amused by her excitement, content to stand at her shoulder as she continued to play. As with most games of chance, the odds were always in favor of the house. The payout on slots was about ninety-three percent.
A few minutes later, a hostess clad in a ruffled, offthe-shoulder white blouse and short, wine-red skirt came by offering drinks, which were free to players. Kaitlyn ordered orange juice.
“Not a big drinker, are you?” Zack remarked.
“Not really. Aren’t you having anything?”
“Maybe later.” He jerked his chin toward the machine. “You won again.”
Amused by her enthusiasm at winning a few dollars, he was curious to see what her reaction would be if she hit the jackpot. It was easy to manipulate the machine. A single thought, and three sevens lined up on the pay line.
“Oh! Look at that!” she exclaimed as more credits were added to the meter.
He laughed, surprised that her enjoyment pleased him so much.
The waitress arrived with her orange juice only moments later. Kaitlyn couldn’t help wondering if all drink orders were filled as quickly, or if the fact that she was with the boss had anything to do with the speedy service.
She continued to play while she sipped her drink, winning more than she lost, and decided to quit while she was ahead.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then hit CASH OUT,” he directed.
She frowned when the machine spit out a bar-coded ticket.
“Only the older machines pay out in cash,” Zack explained. “You can cash that in later.”
“Oh, okay.” She slipped the coupon into her purse and glanced around.
“Are you game to try something else?” Zack asked.
“Maybe later. Right now, I think I’d like something to eat. Is there a restaurant in here?”
“This way.” Curious to see if his touch elicited the same reaction as the night before, he took her hand in his. An odd look passed over her face, but she didn’t pull away this time. Pleased, he led her out of the casino and down a long, carpeted hallway. Kaitlyn glanced at the shops that lined both sides of the corridor—gift shop, flower shop, hair salon. But it was the sexy black pants and top in the window of the dress shop next to the hair salon that caught her eye. She’d never worn anything like that in her whole life.
The restaurant was at the end of the corridor. Kaitlyn glanced around. The room was rectangular-shaped, with an open beam ceiling and parquet floors. Booths lined three of the walls; tables covered with deep green cloths were arranged in the center of the floor. The lighting was subdued; soft music filtered through the sound system.
They were seated immediately, but that was no surprise. After all, it was bad form to keep the boss waiting.
“Good evening, Mr. Ravenscroft,” a waitress said, offering Kaitlyn a menu. “Your usual?”
“That’ll be fine, Annie.”
“I’ll be right back,” she said, smiling.
“So,” Kaitlyn said, opening the menu, “what’s good here?”
“Everything,” Zack replied with a grin. “We’ve got the best chef in the state. I’m told the lobster is excellent.”
“You’re told?” Her eyebrows went up in surprise. “Haven’t you ever tried it?”
“No. I’m . . . allergic to seafood.”
The waitress returned bearing a glass of dark red wine, which she placed on a coaster in front of Zack before turning her attention to Kaitlyn. “Do you need more time?”
“No. I’ll have the lobster.”
“Soup or salad?”
“Salad, with ranch.”
“And to drink?”
“Just water, no lemon.” Kaitlyn looked at Zack. “Aren’t you having anything?”
“No. I dined earlier.”
A
fter jotting Kaitlyn’s order down on her pad, the waitress picked up the menu and turned to go, but not before bestowing a dazzling smile on Zack.
“She seems quite smitten with you,” Kaitlyn remarked as the waitress moved to the next table.
“Annie? Yeah, she’s a good kid.” He draped one arm along the back of the booth. “So, are you a working girl?”
“Not yet. I just graduated from college.”
He grunted softly.
“I majored in Comparative Folklore.”
“How’s that workin’ out for ya?” he asked, grinning.
“Not very well, actually,” she admitted, her grin matching his. “Believe it or not, there isn’t a lot of interest in ancient folklore these days, but”—she shrugged—“I receive a substantial allowance from my father.”
Zack nodded. “Must be nice.” He barely remembered his own father.
“Yes, although sometimes I feel guilty for taking it, and for knowing that if I do get into financial trouble, he’s there to bail me out.”
“What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that what fathers are for?”
“I guess so, but I’m a big girl now. Old enough to stand on my own two feet. I shouldn’t be living on an allowance.”
“What does your father do?”
“He’s in business in Romania.” It was the truth. And a lie.
“Romania? Girl, you’re a long way from home.”
Kaitlyn nodded. “I always wanted to see America. I have an uncle here somewhere. Of course, I have no idea where he might be. He left home before I was born.” Her father was still hopeful that Stefan would one day return to the Fortress, but she thought it unlikely. Stefan had been gone for over twenty years. Surely, if he intended to return, he would have done so by now. Then again, maybe not. Twenty years wasn’t such a long time when you lived for centuries.
“It’s going to be hard to find him if you don’t know where to start,” Zack remarked.
“Well, I’m not really looking for him,” Kaitlyn said with a shrug. “Although it’s kind of nice to know that I have family here, somewhere.” All she knew about Stefan was that he looked a lot like her father and that he had once loved a mortal woman. Even her grandmother, Liliana, rarely spoke of him.
The waitress brought Kaitlyn’s dinner a few minutes later, along with another glass of wine for Zack.
“You’re really not going to have anything?” Kaitlyn asked.
“No.” He picked up his glass and sipped his drink. “Enjoy your dinner.”
The lobster was every bit as delicious as he’d said, the rice fluffy and perfectly seasoned, the vegetables the best she’d ever had. Her enjoyment must have shown on her face because Zack grinned as she took another bite of lobster.
“Told you so,” he said.
“It’s wonderful.” She speared another piece with her fork and offered it to him. “Are you sure you don’t want to try a bite?”
“Quite sure.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
That much was true, he thought. He had never tasted lobster. Or hamburgers. Or hot dogs or potato chips or so many other foods that mortals took for granted these days. In his day, the wealthy had dined on pheasant and roast pork and chicken swimming in rich sauces. The poor folk had lived on bread and cheese and an occasional deer poached from the king’s forest—and been glad to get it.
These days, his was strictly a liquid diet.
Kaitlyn laid her napkin on the table and pushed her plate away. “I simply can’t eat another bite.”
Zack’s gaze moved to the pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat. “A bite,” he murmured. The scent of her blood, the need to taste her, was driving him crazy.
“What?”
“Would you like dessert?” he asked, dragging his gaze from the smooth, slender line of her neck.
“No, thank you,” she said, certain she couldn’t eat anything else. Until she saw the dessert cart. Brownies. Seven-layer chocolate cake with fudge frosting. Deepdish apple pie. Dainty strawberry tarts. Tapioca pudding topped with cherries. Cheesecake.
“Are you sure?” Zack asked with a wry grin. “Your words say no, but your eyes are saying, ‘Oh, yes.’”
Kaitlyn bit down on her lower lip. Her vampire cousins were jealous because she could still eat mortal food. And because, no matter how much she ate, she never gained an ounce. “Maybe a slice of that cake,” she decided. “With a scoop of ice cream.”
Women and chocolate, Zack thought, amused by the nearly ecstatic expression on Kaitlyn’s face as she sampled the cake.
“What?” she asked when she caught him staring.
He shook his head, but he couldn’t help wondering if he could put that same look of sheer pleasure on her face.
“So,” he said when she finished her dessert, “what are you in the mood for now?”
“I don’t know. Did you have something in mind?”
He could think of several things he’d like to do, none of which he thought she would agree to, since they all involved the two of them romping naked in his bed.
“Zack?”
He shook the images of the two of them from his mind. “Do you want to try your luck at craps?”
She considered it a moment, then said, “No, I don’t think so.”
His gaze moved over her, a caress more than a look. “We could go upstairs.”
“What’s up there?” she asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Zack chuckled, amused by her wary expression. Did she think he had some nefarious scheme in mind, like spiriting her away and ravishing her until dawn? Not that that was such a bad idea. He wondered what she would say if he suggested it, then chided himself for being a fool. She was a nice girl. Way too nice for a guy like him.
“The Skylight Room,” he replied. “Soft music. Good champagne. Dancing under the stars.”
Kaitlyn hesitated. She hadn’t had a lot of experience with men. She sensed that Zack Ravenscroft wasn’t like ordinary men, although she wasn’t sure what there was about him that set him apart. He carried an aura of danger, but that didn’t frighten her. She could take care of herself. Maybe it was the fact that she found him so attractive. Almost irresistibly so. His voice, his roguish smile, both were hard to resist. Still, there wasn’t much future for them. Even though her father had repealed the laws that once forbade her people to marry mortals, she knew her parents would be disappointed if she didn’t marry someone from home. There was no possibility that she could ever marry Zack.
Marry Zack! Good grief, where had that thought come from? She had just met the man.
“Kaitlyn?”
He was watching her intently, making her glad he couldn’t read her mind, although she would have loved to read his. Of course, being able to eavesdrop on people’s private thoughts was a mixed blessing. There had been times in college when she had lowered her guard to steal into someone’s thoughts, and then heard something she wished she hadn’t. Like the time Kaitlyn learned her supposed best friend forever was telling everyone that Kaitlyn was sleeping with her anthropology teacher and that was why she was getting such good grades.
“It’s just a dance,” Zack said in his soft, oh, so sexy voice.
And the perfect excuse to be in his arms, Kaitlyn thought as he took her hand in his and led her to a glass-sided elevator that whisked them to the top floor of the building.
The Skylight Room was lovely. The walls were white, the drapes a soft blue. Small round tables were scattered along the edge of the dance floor. A pianist, two guitarists, and a drummer provided music, which was slow, soft, and sensual. It was easy to see where the room got its name. A huge skylight took up most of the ceiling. A million stars twinkled overhead. Moonlight shimmered through the glass. It was, she thought, like walking among the stars, although it was nothing like the ballroom at the Fortress.
Zack gestured at the dance floor. “Shall we?”
“Isn’t that what we’re here for?” she asked wit
h a playful grin.
He didn’t answer, simply drew her into his arms.
He was a wonderful dancer, light on his feet, easy to follow. She searched her mind for something to say, but small talk eluded her. How could she be expected to think coherently with his body pressed so intimately against hers? They were, she thought, a perfect fit. The scent of his cologne tickled her nostrils, his very nearness was intoxicating, as was the scent of his blood. But that was to be expected. She was half vampire, after all, a fact that had been confirmed on her twentieth birthday.
Her father had been with her when the change occurred. He had told her she could resist it if she desired, but that doing so would make it more difficult later. Taking his advice, she had surrendered to the need that night. He had warned her that undergoing the change might be violent, that she could possibly be overcome with the need to kill, but it hadn’t happened like that. A yearning for blood had been niggling at her for weeks. Surrendering to it had seemed the most natural thing in the world. Her father had taken her hunting. She had not enjoyed the hunt, but her need for blood had been easily satisfied, with little harm done to the young man who had been her chosen prey.
“You must feed often the first year,” her father had told her. “If you don’t, it could be fatal.”
“And after that?” she had asked.
“As often as you feel the need.”
He had frequently gone hunting with her during the first few months to make sure she didn’t have any problems.
“You’re very quiet,” Zack mused, wishing he could read her thoughts. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” She smiled wistfully. “I was just lost in the past.”
“Anything you want to share?”
“I was thinking about my father. You remind me of him.”
He grimaced. “I’m not sure I like that.”
“You should be pleased. He’s a wonderful man.”
“I’m sure he is. He’s got a wonderful daughter.”
“Flatterer.”
“Just callin’ it the way I see it.” He drew her closer, his gaze intent on her face. “Are you feeling what I’m feeling?”