None of it made any sense. Not her behavior, and certainly not the way her body reacted. Impulsive and rash weren’t part of her vocabulary, so what had made her act so out of character?
Disgusted, she threw the towel over her shoulder and occupied herself with stacking rinsed bar glasses. Minutes. All the time she’d spent talking with Carlos tonight, still only added up to just minutes.
She’d couldn’t believe she’d let him kiss her. And judging by the wetness in her panties, that was the least of it. Her body still hummed with arousal, and as the tingle spread, she touched her face, mortified at the heat beneath her fingertips. How could she have allowed herself to lose complete control in an utter stranger’s arms? But if he was an utter stranger, then why did he seem so familiar? She couldn’t shake the tiny nagging feeling of déjà vu that tugged at her regardless of her embarrassment.
His words sounded like music and felt like chocolate melting in her mouth. Something about him made her head buzz, she had felt it before, but for the life of her, she didn’t understand it. In addition, she certainly didn’t understand why this time she chose not to fight the deluge of sensation.
She knew this feeling. For the past two weeks, she’d woken up every morning in the same warm afterglow. This is no dream. This is the way I’m supposed to feel. Her mind revolted. It’s not the same! This was simply the result of a reckless act, a momentary lapse in judgment. The other was just a side effect of her subconscious fantasies.
Then why did it feel so personal, so intimate? The feel of his hands, the taste of him—it was as if her body acknowledged what her practical mind refused to believe. It was then the words from her dream came back to haunt her. You are here because it is what you want, yet what you fear. You search, but refuse to see.
Could it be possible? Could this be the reason she’d been having the same dream repeatedly for weeks? Impossible, she thought. But it was the only answer that reconciled what her body knew to be true. It was him. He had come—only this time he was real.
Her mind raced. She was too pragmatic for this—she wasn’t the type to lose herself in either a relationship or even a one-night stand. Maybe she was reaching, trying to make something out of nothing because she wanted it to be true. For the first time in her life, her great-grandmother’s belief in all things mystical seemed like a legitimate possibility. How else could she explain what she was feeling? The only other explanation was that she had finally lost it, that years of shouldering responsibility and living like a nun had finally pushed her over the edge.
She finished stacking the glasses and picked up her tray. Agitated or not, she had a job to do, and though most of her tables had cleared out, there were a few stragglers still hanging around looking for a last-minute hookup. At this time of night, most couples were busy grinding it out on the dance floor. Musical foreplay. Heat rose in her cheeks again at the images those words conjured, and she stole a quick sideways glance at Carlos, still sitting on the couch in the corner nursing his rum.
The last call for alcohol had come and gone, and the bouncers herded anyone remaining toward the main exit. At this point, she didn’t have much of a choice except to clear Carlos’s table and let him settle his tab. She was so attracted to him it unnerved her, and as embarrassed as she was for acting like a poster girl for Sluts ‘R’ Us, just approaching his table sent her body into overdrive.
“Um…it was nice to meet you, Carlos,” she said, not quite making eye contact as she picked up his empty glass and the almost empty bottle of rum. “Maybe I’ll see you here again sometime.”
He reached out and ran his knuckles over her forearm. “The pleasure was all mine, but don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind about tomorrow night.”
His fingertips sent little electric sparks across her exposed skin and she nearly dropped her tray. “No, I haven’t changed my mind...” She trailed off, not trusting her voice not to crack.
“Good. I can think of nothing that would give me more pleasure than spending time with you. In fact, I’d like to see you home if you’ll permit me.”
Trina’s cheeks burned at his words, but shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to be here a while longer. I have to help clean up this mess.” Shrugging one shoulder, she looked around the club in dismay.
“Wait here just a moment,” Carlos said with a deliberate smile, and walked off toward the bar.
Trina’s expression was one of complete curiosity as he walked back from the bar, a satisfied grin on his face. “All settled. We can leave,” he told her.
“Wow, you must have given Rick a hefty tip. He never lets anyone leave early.”
“Something like that, but I have my ways,” Carlos said, slyly tapping the side of his temple with his index finger.
Shaking her head again, she just laughed. “I’d better get my things before he changes his mind.” Walking toward the door marked, “staff only”, she grabbed her coat and bag. As she passed the bar, her boss gave her a nod as he stacked dirty glasses. “Have a good night, Trina,” he called after her.
“You too, Rick.” Hooking her bag over her shoulder, she hurried back toward Carlos, still wondering what he could possibly have said or done to get Rick to let her leave so early.
Carlos was waiting for her by the stairs. “Ready?”
Trina nodded and took his hand. “Just for the record, what did you say to Rick when you went over to talk to him?” She looked sideways at him, holding the railing while carefully navigating the steps in her heels.
Carlos gave her an innocent shrug. “I merely told him that your feet hurt, and that an older woman such as yourself should be allowed to go home to your footbath and Epsom salts.”
She stopped in mid-step and just looked at him, but burst out laughing at the wicked smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.
***
The temperature had dropped overnight, and the wind whistled as it whipped down the street. The calendar may have said spring, but the lion hadn’t quite yet turned into a lamb, and Trina’s thin coat wasn’t much help against the March chill.
Carlos put his arm around her as they made their way out. At the bottom of the steps, they stood on the sidewalk in awkward silence. “I said I’d see you home, so why don’t you let me give you a lift? You look like you’re freezing, and my car’s right across the street,” he said, indicating the Jag parked at the curb.
“I usually take the subway, but considering how cold it is tonight, a ride would be nice for a change.” Cupping her hands, she blew on them for warmth.
“Then allow me,” he smiled, offering her his elbow.
“Such a gentleman.” Trina chuckled and linked her arm with his.
Carlos didn’t respond, but the words not even close echoed through his head as he watched her climb into his car. He slid effortlessly into the driver seat and started the engine. “Where to?” he asked pulling out onto the deserted street.
“East 19th Street, between 3rd and Irving.”
“Gramercy Park?”
Trina nodded. “My family has owned a home there since the early 1900s. It’s been passed down over the years, and now I live there with my great-grandmother. She’ll be one hundred and four on her next birthday—at least I think that’s how old she’ll be.”
“Nice,” he said, then after a moment looked at her, a little puzzled.
“I know what you’re thinking. Then why a barmaid, right?”
“Considering what New York City real estate is worth, basically, yes.”
“It’s complicated,” Trina said, running her hand through her hair.
He caught her agitated gesture and his curiosity piqued. From his peripheral vision he could see her eyebrows had furrowed slightly and she looked preoccupied.
“What’s so complicated? Tell me.”
“It’s nothing, forget it. Just family drama and I wouldn’t want to bore you,” she added quickly.
Carlos watched Trina catch herself before she nervously
ran her hand through her hair again. She was uneasy, but what interested him was that she was obviously policing herself. Trina smiled nervously, folding her hands in her lap. “Tell me more about you. You said your home is upstate somewhere. Is it far?”
“Without traffic, it’s about two hours from the city. But I have a place on the Upper East Side that I use when I’m in town.”
Impressed, Trina nodded, and they fell into an awkward silence.
“I’m a pretty good listener, you know. Every family has its own brand of drama. In fact, I think it’s a prerequisite. At times my own could earn nominations for the Tony Awards,” he offered, pressing a bit.
Trina looked at him wryly. “I’ll bet. But my family…” She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. “Do you remember the line from that old movie Arsenic and Old Lace? The one where Cary Grant says, ‘Insanity runs in the family, but in ours it practically gallops’? Well, in my family that just about covers it.”
Carlos laughed aloud. “Come on, after something like that you’ve got to tell me now.”
“Nope.”
“Hmmm. What if I guess?”
She grinned. “Not a chance. Let’s change the subject. What kind of books do you like to read?”
Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Books?”
“Yeah, books. You know those things with all the words in them that come in paperback or hardcover. Some even have leather bindings.”
Carlos smirked at her. “Very funny. Smart aleck…wasn’t that your word? Okay…books. I like all kinds of books, both fiction and non-fiction, but I enjoy history and biographies most. What about you?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Romances. All kinds of romances.”
“Really?”
She raised an eyebrow as if she had expected this reaction. “And what’s wrong with romance novels? I want to spend what little free time I have reading stories that spark my imagination rather than something dull or depressing. Isn’t real life mundane enough? The required reading for my degree is so dry it practically puts me to sleep. I like romantic suspense. It’s an escape from my everyday life and I love it. In fact, I just finished one about a girl and her vampire lover and it was terrific.”
“Really. That good, huh?” Carlos slid his eyes sideways and held her gaze. In seconds, Trina began to shift uncomfortably in her seat. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on her face, and he could smell the arousal pheromones coming off her in waves. When he gave her a seductive half smile she literally gasped, and he had to chuckle to himself. He broke eye contact with her, but wasn’t sorry at all. He couldn’t resist giving her a little taste of the real thing.
“Interesting,” he murmured, as he pulled onto her street. Parking in front of her house, he cocked his head to look out the car’s window. An attractive, ivy-covered brownstone sat exactly park side on what New Yorkers call “the block beautiful.”
“So, are you ever going to tell me what makes your family so…special?”
He could tell she was still a little flustered, but she met his gaze head on, regardless. With a mischievous look, she opened the door. “Maybe,” she said and blew him a kiss as she got out of the car. “See you tomorrow.”
He laughed aloud again, a huge grin spreading across his face. “Maybe, indeed.”
***
Freezing on the top step of the brownstone, Trina dug for her keys at the bottom of her purse. Normally she would’ve already had them in her hand before getting out of the car. Silly as it was, she knew Carlos would wait, watching until she was safely inside the house. It was juvenile and she knew it, but she wanted his eyes on her for as long as possible.
Finding them, she ceremoniously unlocked the door and stepped halfway into the vestibule. With her heart thudding in her ears, she turned and waved, giving him one last smile before stepping inside.
The door barely clicked shut behind her before she raced like a boy-crazy teenager toward the bay window in the parlor. She knelt on the window seat, peeling off her thin, leather gloves and peeking surreptitiously through the curtain lace.
She could see him clearly, as the car sat idling in front of the house. Just then he turned, looking straight at the darkened window were she sat as if he knew she was there. Her breath caught in her throat. Putting his car in gear, Carlos drove off, and Trina knelt staring at the empty street.
“What a night!” she murmured, sliding down onto the cushioned seat. Nervous butterflies winged their way around her stomach, and it gurgled. Looking around the empty room, Trina sighed, wondering what her great-grandmother would think about tonight’s escapade. She missed her and their midnight talks. The old woman wasn’t much for sleep, and the two often giggled like schoolgirls over a late night cup of tea.
Too tired to do anything but shower, Trina pushed herself up from the window seat and headed upstairs. Letting the water run until the bathroom was filled with steam, she stood in the spray, the warmth seeping into her muscles easing her sore back and feet. Closing her eyes, she relaxed, letting her mind wander. Carlos.
Squeezing the washcloth at her chest, she sent frothy, whipped cream bubbles and warm water cascading over her breasts. Her nipples tingled at the feel and she shivered. “Get a grip, Trina…he’s just a guy,” she mumbled, shaking herself out of her reverie. Somehow, she knew he was much more than that.
Pulling back the shower curtain, she stepped out of the tub and onto the cold tile. “Shit!” she cursed catching herself as she slid forward. She glanced at the floor and at the vanity. No bathmat and no towel. No brains either, she thought chastising herself. Great. The one time in your life you go gaga over a guy, and you turn into a complete idiot.
Trina dripped her way over to the closet. Rubbing her arms, she wrapped a thick cotton towel around her shoulders and dropped a mat to the floor. She wiggled her way back toward the shower, mopping up the wet mess as she went along.
After drying off, she slipped on a pair of fleece pajamas, and quickly ran a comb through her hair before climbing into bed. She burrowed deep under the covers, bringing her knees into her chest. Exhaustion clouded her thoughts, edging its way in until she felt herself go weightless. Carlos’s image played across her mind as she let herself drift. She remembered the feel of his arms, how wonderful he smelled, and the memory of his kiss was her last conscious thought before sliding into her dreams.
Carlos made his way up First Avenue. With the exception of a few cabs trolling for after-hours strays, the streets were deserted. Even the traffic lights were cooperating, and he flew up the east side of Manhattan with ease. He loved speed and the feel of the road falling away behind him. It centered him, centered his thoughts. After tonight, his thoughts were on one thing. Trina. In no time, he found himself in front of his own townhouse on E. 67th Street.
He parked the car and let himself in, throwing his keys on the hall credenza. He hung up his jacket and poured himself a drink, sitting in the dark to mull over the night’s events. It took two weeks for their paths to cross again. A search for another pet had instead yielded possibilities. Possibilities he’d thought long dead. Who would have guessed?
Upstairs, some of the staff already stirred. He knew it was getting close to dawn, and they would be up and about soon, running errands and taking care of the things he needed accomplished during the day.
Half the household staff was on for day and the other half for night. Carlos had planned it that way so there was always someone around. It was the same way at the main house upstate, and it wasn’t just so the family had people to service them. It provided another level of protection and a way to maintain the illusion of normalcy.
They weren’t expecting him, but then again they had learned over the years to expect the unexpected when it came to him and his family.
Carlos frowned. His family. It was a given they were all going to be curious about Trina, especially since they all knew his history. However, it was too soon to think about that, and he would never bring an addition into their lives unless he was
sure it was a perfect fit. It was too risky.
As for his not finding any new blood? Well, they all knew how particular he could be and besides, there were already enough pets to keep them happy and sated. Too many if you asked him, and Trina was someone he couldn’t pass by. There was something more to her than just attraction. She could change everything for him. Again, perhaps.
The light snapped on in the living room followed by a startled “Oh!”
“Good morning, Rosa,” Carlos said quietly.
“Señor Salazar! I’m sorry…I didn’t know…I mean I didn’t expect…” his housekeeper said, both embarrassed and a little flustered. After all this time, he knew she hated that the family could still catch her unawares. Like a bunch of mischievous kids, they loved to startle her.
Carlos smiled. He loved the old woman, but couldn’t help laughing at her same reaction. “Càlmase, Rosa, it’s okay. I was in the city late and didn’t feel like driving back to the main house. Everything all right here?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Julian is here as well. He went up to his room just a little while ago.”
“Did he? Is he alone?”
Rosa pressed her lips together. “No. Melissa is with him. He told me not to make up a separate room for her, that she’d be spending the night…I mean, day…with him.”
Carlos chuckled at Rosa’s sniff of disapproval. She was very protective of them all, but for some reason Julian especially. He always suspected he reminded her in some way of the son she had lost many years ago, and Carlos gathered from her reaction that she didn’t think very much of tonight’s choice of companion.
“That’s fine Rosa, gracias…and how was Julian tonight?” He couldn’t help but bait her a little. He still loved to watch Rosa bluster and fuss over those she referred to as her boys.
Rosa took a small white cloth out of her apron pocket and began to clean the nonexistent dust from the sideboard. Carlos knew that was something she did when she had something on her mind. “He seemed fine, but you know him…like a child with a shiny new toy.”
The Cursed by Blood Saga Page 52