Rosie sighed. Damn, she couldn’t even fool herself. But, truth be told, she really hated being such a good girl.
Back upstairs with her cart, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone’s gaze moved over body—almost languorously, she thought—but there was no point in daydreaming. She had work to do. So much so that when Dottie was ready to leave, Rosie told the head librarian she’d lock up after she was finished.
“Don’t stay too long, dear,” Dottie said on her way out. “It is Friday night, after all. Try to have some fun, though I’d say no to that tattoo.”
So would Rosie. She hated needles. And pain.
She’d just finished shelving the last book when her cell phone rang. She smiled, looking at the number.
“Hey, Christian. What’s up, hon?”
“Hey, babe. You’re still at work, aren’t you? Bad girl. You need to come meet us right now.”
Swallowing a sigh, Rosie shook her head. Her best friend since high school sounded way too happy this early in the evening.
“Where are you, Chris? Sounds too quiet to be The Speckled Hen or The Ugly Oyster.”
Chris’ voice dropped to a whisper. “We’re at Tim’s. He finally asked me over.”
Ah well, that explained Chris’ good mood. He’d been lusting after Tim Reedy for months with an almost pathetic devotion Rosie wished she’d experience just once in her life.
“Well, then you certainly don’t need me there to interfere. I wouldn’t be good company tonight anyway.”
“Hey, sweetie,” his tone dropped an octave, “what’s wrong? You don’t sound like your normal cheerful self.”
She sighed and laughed at the same time. “Just one of those days, I guess.”
“Oh, it doesn’t sound like just one of those days. What happened?”
Damn, he knew her too well. “Nothing really.” I’m just a pathetic loser. “Sounds like you’re having a much better day. You should get back to Tim.”
“Oh no, you’re not getting away that easily. He’s getting changed anyway, so I have a few minutes. What’s wrong, babe?”
Back at her desk, she flopped into her old wooden chair and dropped her head back to stare at the vaulted ceiling. “Tell me the truth, Christian. Am I the most boring person you know?”
“What? What are you talking about?” To his credit, Chris sounded believably shocked. In her mind, she could see his handsome face puckered up in dismay. “What happened, hon?”
“Nothing happened.” And that was the problem. Nothing ever happened. “It’s just… I’m a stick-in-the-mud, the most boring person in the world. I never do anything. I never go anywhere. I never meet anyone. And I’m never going to have sex ever again, because I’m so boring.
“I’m a freakin’ children’s librarian, Chris. I’m twenty-seven years old. I should be out meeting men, sowing my wild oats. When was the last time I did anything impulsive? Anything fun? Hell, I don’t even remember how to flirt. For the first time in my life, my godmothers are gone for ten whole days. The perfect opportunity to have a little no-strings sex, right? But where am I going to spend Friday night? At home in front of the TV. And no, I’m not coming over there to crash your party. You’ve been waiting for months for your shot at Tim. No way will I break that up.”
“Whoa, honey, sounds like you need a drink and fast. Are you still at the library? I’ll be right over—”
“No, Chris. Absolutely not,” she interrupted. She had to be adamant, because she knew Chris. He’d drop everything to come to her rescue, just as he had done all through high school. “I’m just in a pissy mood. I would be horrible company. Tell you what, you’re right. I’m going to get out of here and get a drink. You have fun tonight.”
Chris was silent and she knew he wanted to argue. He took being a best friend seriously. He’d be here if she wanted him.
“Honestly, Chris. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Rosie hoped she could infuse enough cheerfulness into her voice. Why ruin both their evenings with her foul mood?
After a couple more silent seconds, Chris said, “All right, but I’m showing up at your house tomorrow with coffee and donuts. And we’ll discuss this in depth. Love you.”
“Love you too. Have fun.”
She hung up, releasing a huge sigh. Poor Chris. He had to be sick of listening to her bitch about her boring life. Hell, she’d been bitching about it since high school when they’d become best friends, sharing a lunch table.
Neither of them had been part of the popular crowd. They weren’t jocks or brains or goths or any of the other subsets of high-school life. Of course Chris’ open homosexuality had made him more of an outcast than she’d ever been. Still, they’d shared a love of books, theater and movies.
But where Chris was outgoing, she was just so…not. So do something about it, a little voice in her head whispered. Yeah, but it wasn’t that easy, was it?
Turning off her phone, she tossed it on the desk, where it landed on the grant papers for the workshops she wanted to give next fall for the preschool story time.
She laughed, a short, bitter burst. She might as well use her time constructively.
* * * * *
Rio had spent the entire afternoon in the library watching Rosie. The name suited her. She was as delicate as a flower and from what he imagined, she smelled just as good. He’d only gone out for forty minutes when he’d walked up to Sixth Street to the Crystal Palace to get a few hot dogs before his stomach growled and gave him away. Even though his body wasn’t in corporeal form at the moment, it was still there and it could still feel hunger…and lust.
From the way she kept looking around, he imagined that she felt his presence. He wanted to think it was because they had a connection. Eteri rarely sensed the presence of Fata in their midst, so he was probably deluding himself. After he listened in on her phone conversation with her friend—he knew he shouldn’t, but he did it anyway—he wanted to ease the hurt he heard in her voice.
She said she wanted fun. He’d give her fun. She wanted sex? He’d fuck her so many times she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week. Even though his body was still dissolved in mist, he was aroused. He’d have a hard-on the second he re-formed. And then he’d give her whatever she wanted.
But how to approach her?
As he pondered that problem, sitting cross-legged on the child-sized table across from her desk, she began to pack up her stuff. Following her down the stairs, he watched as she checked the locks on the front doors, set the security system then walked out the back, locking that door behind her.
He expected her to head for a car, which would have been a problem for him unless he managed to get in the car with her.
But…no. Holy hell, she was going to walk home. Alone. After ten o’clock at night. Through the city.
Was she nuts?
From the library, she headed back to Penn Street then headed east toward City Park. He followed her up Penn Street, fuming the whole way.
Christ, did she have no sense of self-preservation? Didn’t she know what walked the streets of this city at night?
The answer to that was probably no. Sure, she had to know the city had a thriving drug trade, but most of that was well north or south of Penn. In this part of town, cop cars regularly cruised by and there weren’t that many people on the street. Behind the sports arena though, the neighborhood got lively again. There were bars on the corners and people on the streets and—
And Christ, he was losing it. She wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman—who’d probably lived in the city most of her life. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure no one approached her and follow wherever she was going. Straight home, he figured, especially after that phone conversation.
Rio walked several yards behind her, far enough that she shouldn’t sense him. He didn’t want to freak her out on her way home. In the dark. Alone.
She walked all the way to Eleventh Street, head up, alert. She didn’t run but she didn’t meander either. She didn’t tal
k to anyone, avoided eye contact with any men but smiled at a few of the older women sitting on porch steps, as if she knew them.
By the time she got to Eleventh, the streets had cleared again, only the occasional car cruised on the road. His linchetto senses picked up the deeper hum of traffic from the highway surrounding the city, voices from various televisions and music from several different sources.
When she slowed after turning right onto Eleventh, he figured she was close to home.
Then again, maybe not. Head cocked to the side, she stopped in front of the unattached building on the corner. There was nothing remarkable about the brick structure set back from the street. It had a single front door flanked by two large windows covered by wooden shutters. The second story had two more large covered windows while the third half story had a small gabled window.
A light shone dimly on the porch that ran the length of the building, a few tables and chairs sitting empty. The sign over the door read Lacey’s Stay-a-While but it was the Latin word hidden in the decorations on the sign that intrigued him.
Taberna. Tavern.
A deliberate message to any Etruscan descendant who might wander by that this was a friendly place to congregate. Since Reading and Berks County were home to salbinelli, linchetti, gianes and an entire tribe of lauru, as well as various other Fata and Enu, there were several places like this around. It wasn’t that they weren’t open to eteri. It was just that they also catered to a different crowd.
Rosie was eyeing the place as if it was Mount Everest and she had a new pair of climbing boots.
Damn, of all the places she could’ve stopped…
Chapter Two
Rosie had passed the new bar every day on her way to and from work for the past few months while it was undergoing renovations, so she’d almost forgotten the place had opened two weeks ago.
Only a block and a half from her home, Lacey’s kept a low profile. There’d been no after-hours fights, no drunken patrons relieving themselves on street corners, no thumping music that rattled the windows. More importantly for the neighborhood residents—no police visits.
Just the type of safe place for her to have a drink. Relax. Hell, maybe she’d even flirt with a guy.
She allowed herself a few brief seconds to imagine walking in and seeing Mr. Lunch Hottie sitting at the bar. She’d slide onto the stool next to him, ask to buy him a drink then proceed to seduce him.
She snorted. Yeah, right. She’d be lucky if she could make herself walk through the front door. No, don’t think like that. Just do it.
Besides, any bar that included the Latin word for tavern in its sign couldn’t be a dive. Squaring her shoulders, she marched up to the porch, grabbed the door and stepped through before she managed to talk herself out of it.
The interior was smoke free and smelled of herbs, spices and hops. It was surprisingly muted. Soft lighting illuminated the small round tables to the right of the door while a long wooden bar ran the length of the wall to the left. There weren’t many people, which caused her to sigh in relief.
Of course now that she was here, she was a little worried about actually having to talk to another adult. She was great with kids—toddlers, adolescents, teens. Anyone under eighteen. Adults… Now that was a different story.
The female bartender was a welcome sight. Taking a deep breath and trying not to look nervous, Rosie stepped up to the bar and slid onto an empty stool surrounded on both sides by other empty stools. Coward.
“Hi there,” the woman said with a bright smile. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a glass of white wine, please.”
“Coming right up.” The brunette with the willowy body grabbed a glass and a bottle from under the bar. “I’m Lacey, by the way. Thanks for stopping in. How’d you hear about my place?”
Lacey set the glass in front of her then leaned on the bar, a smile on her face, waiting for her answer.
“I live down the street.” She took a sip of the wine. “Mm, that’s good. You’ve done a great job on this building. I know it sat vacant for years but it’s beautiful now.”
The woman’s face lit up with a smile. “Thanks so much, Ms…”
“Oh sorry. I’m Rosalia Bianchi.” She held out her hand and Lacey shook it. “But please call me Rosie.”
“Nice to meet you, Rosie. Are you meeting someone tonight? A friend? boyfriend?”
Rosie shook her head, trying not to look helplessly pathetic. “Nope. Just needed to get out of the house.”
Lacey rolled her river blue eyes. “I know just what you mean. Rosie, you and I are going to get on just fine.”
* * * * *
Rio considered the situation for a few seconds before he walked up to the building, stopping just short of the steps to the porch.
He took a careful look around to see if anyone was out and about on the street. Nope, the coast was clear. Because if he was right then—
Yep. The protection spell surrounding the building jolted him back into his corporeal body. Several good wards protected the building. Strong wards.
Since he’d lived in Philadelphia for the past twelve years and was only staying with Teo temporarily, he wasn’t up on the Reading scene. With the exception of DownBelow, the secret Etruscan-only club located below a strip club on the south side of town, and the Cellar, a restaurant run by the monacielli, a few blocks from DownBelow, he didn’t know of any Etruscan hangouts.
He couldn’t believe his brothers hadn’t told him about this place. Then again, Teo didn’t play well with others, so he didn’t get out much. Cam, who lived just outside the city borders, and Nino, who had recently moved into the city from Philadelphia, were kept too busy by their security business to spend their nights barhopping. Add their women into the mix and his two oldest brothers had become romantic saps who only left home for work in the morning reluctantly and couldn’t wait to get back to their mates at the end of the day.
Rio smiled. Nino wouldn’t mind being called romantic but Cam would definitely be offended. His oldest brother had his reputation as a stoic badass to protect. Actually it wasn’t just a reputation. Cam was a stoic badass.
Shaking his head, Rio made sure his ears were covered before he opened the door and stepped into Lacey’s.
About twenty people sat in various positions around the room, probably half of those Etruscan. He picked out two linchetti females he knew well enough to say hi to, a gianes wood elf and a couple who looked like fauni nestled together in the back corner. There were a few versipelli, probably wolves, at the end of the bar.
Working with Cam had taught him more than he’d ever wanted to know about paranoia, but he had to admit the ability to case a room in a few seconds came in handy.
Unlike in DownBelow, there were several humans here in addition to Rosie, who was sitting at the bar talking to the female bartender and smiling.
She hadn’t turned around to see who’d come in the front door, as almost everyone else had, which gave him a chance to study her smile.
Well, maybe not study. Soak it in would be more apt. He hadn’t seen her smile more than a few times today and those smiles had been nothing like this. This one was bright, like the sun breaking through the clouds after a full day of rain, as warm as bread fresh out of the oven and… When the hell had he gotten poetic?
The bartender—his senses told him she was at least half linchetti—shot him a quick look then nodded. She knew what he was.
But he only had eyes for Rosie.
Rio walked up to the bar, sat down on the stool next to her and waited for her to acknowledge him—which took all of a second.
She stilled, as if realizing who sat beside her. Then she bit her lip, as if unsure what she should do. When she swallowed, she drew his gaze to her slim throat and the pulse that beat there. She drew in a deep breath and— He couldn’t help himself. His gaze dropped to her chest, still hidden under the baggy cardigan.
In a flash, his eyes shot back to her face just as s
he turned toward him with a smile. Another blinding smile. His libido lit up as surely as if she’d put her hand down his pants and stroked his already hardening cock.
“Hello again,” she said. “Small world, isn’t it?”
“It surely is.” He stuck out his hand. “Hi. Valerio de Feo. Everyone calls me Rio.”
Despite the smile, she hesitated for a split second before she took his hand. “Nice to meet you, Rio. I’m Rosie.”
“Come here often?”
Her short laugh was a little bitter, a little rueful. “No. But I think I’ll be here a lot more often.”
The bartender smiled back at her, as if laughing at a private joke, then looked at Rio. “Welcome to my place, Rio. I’m Lacey. What can I get you?”
“Beer, whatever’s on draft.”
The bartender moved away to fill his order and Rosie took a sip of her wine, obviously trying to think of something to say. When Lacey set a mug in front of him then moved away, he opened his mouth to say something, anything—and shut it when he realized he didn’t want to do the flirting thing. He actually wanted to have a conversation, which required more than a little thought.
But Rosie beat him to the punch.
“So are you from around here, Rio?”
“Originally,” which was true, “but I live in Philadelphia. I’m…on vacation for the next couple of weeks, spending some time with my brother before I go back to work.”
Her eyebrows lifted politely. “What do you do?”
Damn, even her eyebrows were pretty. “I work in security. What about you, Rosie? What do you do?”
Her smile dimmed as her gaze dropped to the bar top. “I’m the children’s librarian for the Reading Public Library.”
“That sounds…awfully noisy,” he laughed. “You must love kids.”
Her smile bounced back as she lifted her gaze to his. “I do. They’re unpretentious and funny and surprisingly undemanding. And they love a good story as much as I do. But it doesn’t sound half as exciting as your job. Security, huh? What does that mean exactly?”
Seduced and Enchanted Page 2