SeduceMe

by Calista Fox

  Jane let out a low hiss, making his head snap in her direction. She sprang from the sofa and asked Shana, “What went through your mind when you first saw Drake?”

  No doubt taken unawares by the question, Shana’s hand fell to her side and she frowned as she turned to face them. “Excuse me?”

  Coming around the end of the massive sectional, Jane said, “When you first saw him…what did you think of him?”

  “I…um…” She shook her head, as though confused by the question. “I…” Her eyes narrowed on Jane, then shifted to Drake. Several tense moments passed. No one spoke or moved a muscle, including Shana. She simply stared at him, not even blinking.

  Drake stood perfectly still, resisting the urge to march across the office, take her hand and drag her back to the sofa. He also remained quiet, tamping down the temptation to rescue her from the awkward question.

  He suspected there was a method to Jane’s madness. At least there usually was, so he gave her the benefit of the doubt.

  Unable to rudely shun her hosts—though Drake certainly would have understood if she’d chosen to do so, since they’d put her uncomfortably on the spot—Shana squared her shoulders and lifted her chin a notch.

  As though she pulled moxie from somewhere deep inside herself, she said, “I thought he was the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on.”

  A peculiar, knee-jerk reaction to her words almost had Drake closing the wide gap between them and doing precisely what he’d wanted to do not more than ten minutes ago. Haul her up against him and kiss her with all the pent-up passion and desire she so easily evoked, which he’d had to keep securely under wraps all this time.

  Prudence kept him rooted to the spot in which he stood and it was the most tormenting thing he’d endured yet. She might have found the nerve to admit what she thought of him, but he had no doubt she spooked easily and would be out the door if he made any sudden movements.

  Beside him, Jane sighed wistfully. “Yes, he does have a certain something that draws attention.”

  Shana gave a slight nod of her head. “A commanding presence. A piercing gaze. A confident stature.”

  Admittedly, Drake had a healthy ego, but he wasn’t in need of hearing what this particular woman found attractive about him. What he wanted was for her to act upon that attraction. Yet she didn’t move any closer to him than he did her.

  “And what did you think of me?” Jane asked in a tentative voice he’d not heard from her before.

  Shana’s face fell, all traces of bravado vanishing in an instant. Her gaze dropped to the floor as her shoulders slumped and she fidgeted with her handbag. Long, tense moments passed until finally, she said without looking at them, “At first, you reminded me of the French and Swedish women in the orchestra I toured with. In fact, it was a huge relief to hear your British accent.”

  “Why did you dislike them?”

  “It wasn’t that I didn’t like them,” she was quick to say as her head jerked upward and she stared at Jane. “It wasn’t like that, per se. It was more…envy, I guess. They were all so tiny and feminine and…perfect.”

  Drake felt an odd twisting in his gut. “But you headlined the tour—you were the star.”

  “What does that matter in the grand scheme of things?” she asked, her gaze shifting so her eyes locked with his. “Boys and then young men—and older ones as I grew up—approached me because they knew my name. They knew I had money. They wanted me because of my notoriety, that’s all.”

  His own brow furrowed. “You really believe that?”

  “I didn’t look like the other women. It was quite…glaring, actually. The differences between myself and the others. Not just my skin tone, but my dark hair and my eyes and…” She shook her head and a pained expression crossed her face. “My figure. I blossomed rather quickly.”

  “But you’re perfect,” Jane said on a sharp breath, as though offended for Shana, but also shocked the woman didn’t see what she did. Her gaze flashed to Drake. “Isn’t she.”

  It wasn’t even a question. Jane sought an easy confirmation. He opened his mouth to concur, but Shana silenced him with a bitter laugh.

  “Please, I’m the furthest thing from perfect.” They’d made her even more uncomfortable, put her on edge. He could tell by the chill in her tone. She quickly added, “I really must get back to Yvette. Thank you for your hospitality.”

  She turned to the door. Drake was beside her in a split second, long before he could even process the thought to stop her—or stop himself from chasing after her. She’d pulled the door open and he’d placed a hand against the wood, slamming it closed. The sound echoed in the quiet room as ominously as a coffin being nailed shut.

  Chapter Four

  Shana gasped. Her eyes bulged. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat.

  Behind them, Jane made a soft tsking sound.

  Shana stepped away from Drake as he groaned.

  “You think you don’t fit in…” he grumbled, unable to mask the angst in his tone. He shoved a hand through his hair as he glanced over at Jane, finding an anxious look on her face.

  “How exactly did you—” Shana shook her head again, cutting off her own statement. She tried once more. “I mean, you were way over there.” She pointed to where Jane still stood. “And then you went all Twilight on me. No one moves that fast, except, you know…vampires.” She whispered the last word on a sharp breath.

  It was meant to be joke, he could tell by the way she rolled her eyes.

  Then she said, “But that’s ridiculous of course. They only exist in movies.” Her voice remained a soft murmur during her rumination. She clearly didn’t want to believe what her rational mind obviously hinted at as being a reality. Yet, at the same time… Her eyes grew wide and he could see it really was no joke to her.

  “I’m just being melodramatic, right?”

  He didn’t respond.

  She gasped again. He returned to his spot next to Jane as Shana tried to grasp the reality of the shocking situation. He, in turn, tried to appear less intimidating. Less big bad wolf about to devour little red riding hood.

  She stared at the two of them, disbelief evident in the way her mouth gaped. But in her shimmering eyes was that look of intrigue and fascination that emulated his own. Her interest in him had continued to burn brighter as the evening had progressed. She couldn’t hide it, even if every other part of her emitted uncertainty and incredulity.

  “I only had one sip of champagne,” she said. “I’m not drunk. Or delusional.” To Drake, she added, “You move quicker than my heart beats. How is that possible?”

  “Haven’t you already answered your own question?” he countered.

  Shana didn’t appear to have a response to that. At least, not one she found acceptable.

  “This is fortuitous, really.” Jane stepped forward, albeit with trepidation. Again, so as to not spook their guest. “You think you’re different. Imagine how we feel?”

  “But I don’t believe in vam—”

  “You don’t have to.” Jane’s tone was soft, her smile a friendly one.

  Shana sucked in a breath, then let it out with a sharp whoosh. “Oh my God.” The color drained from her face and her back pressed to the closed door as one hand searched for the doorknob. “Am I, like, dinner?”

  Jane stared at her, aghast. Drake bit back a grunt, offended.

  “You’re perfectly safe in our company,” he assured her, though his voice was tight. “Our interest in you is not sustenance related.”

  She stared quizzically at him. “What is your interest in me?”

  “Oh dear,” Jane murmured.

  Drake turned away. He returned to the living room seating in front of the glowing embers in the fireplace. Settling in a chair adjacent to the sectional, he crossed his legs and tried to appear casual. Tricky though it was. Something dangerous and forbidden and exhilarating swirled around inside him, making his gut clench and his cock throb. He’d crossed a line he shouldn’t ha
ve and wasn’t putting much effort into a retreat.

  The fact was, he wanted to be open with Shana about his and Jane’s true nature. He wanted her to know them—really know them.

  But how detrimental would that be to all three of them in the end?

  And what on earth made him think she’d actually believe them if they continued to travel this path? She’d already admitted she didn’t buy into the idea vampires truly existed. In order to validate their claim, he or Jane would have to reveal their demon natures. Show their fangs.

  How could she not freak out if she saw who they really were?

  “Perhaps it’s best if you leave,” he finally said. Something about her made him trust in the fact that she wouldn’t share the revelations of this evening with anyone. Maybe because she couldn’t comprehend the idea of vampires. Maybe because no one was likely to believe she’d just met two of them, were she to tell anyone.

  He was resigned to the fact he’d botched the whole evening. Was monumentally pissed off at himself for it, but what could he do at this point? Best to cut his losses and hope his Shana White obsession would end sometime soon. This century, at least.

  But just as he was berating himself and fighting off the fury that warred with the peculiar liberation he felt over her knowing his deepest, darkest secret, she went and shocked the hell out of him.

  Pulling away from the door, she took two steps toward Jane. Her mouth opened and she appeared to search for the right words. She gave up and took a couple more steps forward. Jane stayed where she was, shooting a perplexed look over her shoulder—toward Drake—before her attention returned to Shana.

  Jane said, “You’re not scared.”

  Again, she didn’t pose a question. Drake guessed she’d tapped into that mysterious part of Shana’s existence once more, connecting with her soul in a way Drake would never understand or experience himself, much to his dismay. He’d never been as envious of Jane’s gift as he was tonight, wanting very much to share that intimacy with Shana himself.

  She said to Jane, “I just realized you would have gone for my jugular long before this. If that was your intent.” She set her purse on the edge of the desk, as though offering a truce, a white flag of sorts—silently telling them she wasn’t about to turn tail and run, or divulge their secret.

  Drake found this interesting. His eyes narrowed on her as she took another small step toward Jane.

  “Yvette said you’re both very mysterious. You keep to yourselves, for the most part.”

  “It’s not that we don’t like humans,” Jane said, her tone somewhat contrite. “That’s not the case at all, in fact. We live in your world and we respect your rules and your boundaries. We don’t drink human blood. I never have and Drake gave it up centuries ago.”

  He could practically see Shana’s mind churning as she processed what Jane had said, chewing over every bit of evidence presented, laid out right before her very eyes.

  When her glowing amber gaze landed on him, Drake felt a powerful reaction that made him jolt in his seat. As though she’d touched him physically and his body had reacted innately and lustily to it.

  “When I tripped earlier,” she said to him, “and you lifted me up… It was effortless. Like I weighed no more than a feather. And you didn’t miss a step.” She seemed to replay that moment in her mind before continuing. “I felt normal. With both of you. Like, for the first time in my life, I fit in with someone. Well, two someones.” She looked back at Jane and smiled. “I can’t explain it. It’s not like how I feel with Yvette and Finn. I adore them, but there’s something about Yvette that just makes me feel so…subpar.”

  “She’s stunning, yes,” Drake said in a quiet voice. “Gregarious and brilliant. They both are. But there’s a sensual exuberance you ooze that’s as emotionally stirring as it is sexually arousing. It’s impossible to escape or ignore. It’s captivating. Especially to us.”

  Jane added, “I suspect those women you were always jealous of were actually jealous of you.”

  “Oh, no,” she was quick to say. Her gaze dropped to the floor again and her teeth clamped down on her trembling lower lip, as though she’d just recalled some deeply painful memory from those days in the orchestra.

  Jane took the two steps forward that closed the gap between them.

  Drake sat up straight, alarmed. “Jane.” That one word was a warning she didn’t heed.

  Instead, she reached for Shana’s hand and again enveloped it with hers.

  Shana glanced up, hesitation in her eyes. As though she were certain she should pull away, but was reluctant to do so for some unfathomable reason.

  Jane said, “You simply don’t see what others see. Not just when it comes to how they view you, but you don’t see what’s around you either.”

  “I—” She gave Jane a perplexed look, as though unsure of Jane’s meaning. Or perhaps she got it and didn’t know how to respond. Drake watched the exchange with great interest, no longer on high alert. He knew where Jane was going with this and he suspected it just might be therapeutic for both women.

  “You voluntarily hide,” Jane said. “You chose to be alone, with only a few select friends. You’re wonderful at expressing your feelings with your written words and your music, but do you ever express yourself verbally? Do you ever say what you’re feeling or seek what you want or need?”

  “It’s all very superficial,” Shana suddenly said, her voice hard and flat—a direct contradiction to the pain that flashed in her eyes. “I mean, all I ever wanted was to fit in. To look like the girls and the women I was surrounded by. To not be different. And I know that’s selfish, because I had a gift they wanted. But I would have gladly traded—”

  She shook her head sharply and turned away, yanking her hands from Jane’s loose grip in the process.

  “I was blessed with a beautiful gift,” she continued as she returned to the desk and picked up her handbag, clearly on her way out the door again. “But it didn’t feel like a gift when I was forced to play six hours a day and spend the rest of the time learning five different languages and studying with tutors. I was whisked away from my home in Mexico when I was just a child, and catapulted into European culture where I had no friends and there was no one else…like me. Not even in Italy. I always seemed so out of place.”

  She looked back at them and said, “There was never any question, until I was of legal age, that I would play and I would tour. From the moment I held a violin in my hands—when I was just four years old—my fate was determined for me, by people who didn’t even know me. My parents willingly turned me over to a world-renowned maestro and a nanny he hired to care for me, and I rarely ever saw them after that. My entire existence revolved around playing, traveling and being tutored. It was…horrifically lonely.”

  Drake fought the urge to go to her and comfort her because he could see the sheer agony in her eyes. He suspected Jane resisted as well.

  Shana said, “I know it sounds like I’m ungrateful. I’m not. I just…I never wanted any of it. I didn’t want to be famous. I wanted to be normal and have a normal life. I didn’t want to sleep in bedrooms that were the size of most people’s apartments. When I was old enough to no longer need a constant chaperone, I was all alone in hotel suites that rivaled small mansions. I didn’t want that isolation, but at the same time, I didn’t really know how to make friends.”

  She seemed to consider her next words before she admitted, “Nor did I want to be the one girl fashion designers looked at—after designing gowns for all the other females in the orchestra—and murmured, ‘what am I going to do with her’? I was five-foot-ten at the age of sixteen. Can you imagine how monstrous I felt?”

  Jane stared at her for several quiet moments before she turned away. “Sure I can.”

  She passed Drake and sat on the sofa, clasping her hands in her lap.

  Drake was the only one to see the pain on Jane’s usually composed face. It caught him off guard, doubling the angst he felt. Shana’s admissi
on was a disconcerting one unto itself. Jane’s repressed agony was equally troubling.

  He said, “You two are so similar.” And that’s when he understood the full impact of what Jane had seen or felt when she’d searched Shana’s soul.

  Surprisingly, Shana deposited her purse once again and joined Jane on the sofa. “I’m sorry,” she said as she covered one of Jane’s hands with her own. “I didn’t realize… I mean, it didn’t occur to me. You can’t live a normal life either.”

  “I did once,” Jane told her. “For twenty-six years. I liked being human, but I chose to become a vampire for…someone.”

  “Drake?”

  Jane let out a soft laugh. “No. We only met a few decades ago. I became a vampire not quite fifty years ago. A lover from Dublin, who was the most brilliant man I’d met—at that point of my life anyway.” She shot an appreciative look toward Drake before she continued her story. “We had a beautiful affair and when I found out he was a vampire, I wanted to live the rest of eternity with him. He felt the same. It was perfect.”

  Shana’s brows knitted together. “Then what happened?”

  “He was murdered. Stake through the heart. It truly does work.”

  “Oh.”

  Shana looked over at Drake. He said, “I didn’t know. It’s not something she’s shared with me before.”

  “It’s rather bizarre,” Jane added, “but I never realized until tonight, when we met you downstairs, how much I miss being human. Not so much for the sake of being human, mind you. But…the warmth of it. The actual physical warmth.” She twined her pale-skinned fingers with Shana’s darker ones and lifted their hands to her chest, pressing them between the valley of her small breasts. With a genuine smile, she said, “There’s comfort in the human touch, along with a vibrancy I’d long since forgotten. It’s…electrifying.”

  Chapter Five

  Pleasure and pain walked hand in hand, no matter who you were. No existence, be it mortal or immortal, natural or supernatural, could escape the latter and revel purely in the former.