“And…” He chuckled, watching Holly’s head drop back in ecstasy as she tightened one arm around Rick’s neck to settle his lips at her breast. “It has some aphrodisiac properties.” The sub rose to her knees, hands working eagerly to unzip his leather pants.
“Oh!” Now, Cat was uncomfortably shocked.
“Yeah, I think we’d better give them a little privacy.” Matt clicked off the two-way access and then led her away from the mirror and toward the door. “Or, we may see more than you bargained for.”
Cat couldn’t resist a glance back into the dungeon where Rick had drawn Holly into his arms and carried her toward the bed. Yes, she definitely wanted to give them their privacy, didn’t she?
Chapter 15
A handful of weeks separated their affair at the beach from the practicalities of real life. Cat was on the phone when Matt walked in, juggling several bags of groceries from the Upscale Market, a little gourmet shop that was the place to shop in Malibu.
In the past weeks, life developed a rhythm, and he enjoyed every second of the normalcy. Grocery shopping on Wednesday, movie night on Friday, Thursday night poker with Rick and the guys while Cat did things with Georgia and the girls. Long walks. Long swims. Staying up late, making love, and then sleeping late and making love. Maybe, if they did it often enough, he thought irrationally, he wouldn’t miss her so much when the inevitable happened, and she was gone—for eternity. He resolved to make love to her until she cried out for him to stop, which of course, she never did. Hussy! He chuckled.
“No,” Cat said firmly. “I’m not ready to start yet, and I don’t know when I will be.” She paused to listen. “I need to take this time.” She ran her fingers lovingly down Matt’s back as he passed her. “It’s a time that may never come again, and Mr. Hiatt and Mr. Brenner have given me their blessing to take as long as I need.” She grinned. Matt knew their names worked wonders. “Okay. Okay. We’ll stay in touch. Bye.” She clicked off the phone. Matt arched an inquiring brow. Cat shrugged. “My obligatory weekly refusal to start work. That was the human resources manager at Consort Publishing.”
“Ah!” He paused in putting away the groceries to stand behind her, caressing her abdomen in a soothing motion. “Are you sure this is what you want? You don’t have to delay. You can start the new job if you want.”
Cat whirled in his arms, grabbing his face between her hands. “Are you kidding? Leave you? Leave this? Do you want to go back to work?”
“No. But…”
“And neither do I!” Cat bit back tears and turned around with a sudden need to scrub the spotlessly clean sink. “I don’t want to miss one tiny second of your time as human.”
“And when I’m no longer human?”
“I don’t want to miss a second of that either,” she said with unrelenting cheerfulness.
She turned her head to smile confidently, but there was an underlying sadness, rather as if he’d asked, “And when the cancer comes back?” It wasn’t lost on Matt.
He shook himself mentally and refocused. He was human now. He reminded himself to live in the present, just as he had learned to do during the war. He might be dead tomorrow. He might have to disappear tomorrow. Those dire possibilities were not going to rob them of today. He shrugged off the feeling of impending doom with fierce determination and kissed her neck, drumming his hands lightly on her abdomen before turning back to stock the groceries.
“Mrs. Jenkins, at the dry cleaners, says she accidentally picked up one of your saucepans from cooking class.”
“Is that where it went? Thank heavens! I thought I was losing my mind. That’s a very expensive pan too…well, Rick’s very expensive pan… I don’t know how I’d make hollandaise sauce without it.”
“You’re really out to impress me, aren’t you? I mean, meat and potatoes would have been fine.”
“Fine isn’t good enough.” Cat hugged his shoulders with still damp hands before she stepped past him to get ingredients from the fridge. “When Emeril Lagasse invites you to join his cooking class…what kind of an ingrate would I be not to accept?”
“I hate to say this, babe, but don’t you think his ambition to make that deal with Consort had a little something to do with your invitation?”
“Maybe, but why not take advantage of the opportunity? Live while you can, right?” The thought ate at Matt. “Besides, aren’t you busy chasing that fuzzy little ball around a tennis court?”
“Yeah, I think I overdid it a little. My knee is giving me hell today.”
* * * *
Matt extended his leave of absence from the Consort Group to spend as much time as possible with Cat. Their time in the Malibu beach house, or as she dubbed it, “Utopia Beach,” continued, bringing days of bliss and nights of toe-curling passion. He converted the second bedroom, overlooking the ocean, into an art studio. He’d paint while she wrote, and in an effort to hold on to what they had, both of them scoured the Internet for every possible lead to Veronique.
Matt took it a step further and looked into the DarkNet, a specially encrypted area of the Internet dealing in quasi-legal endeavors, and the VampNet, an underground Internet system maintained exclusively for the Vampire Nation. There were countless meetings and endless phone calls made to anyone with connections to the vanished Moreau arsonists. All their efforts led to zilch, and that, along with the continued absence of Humanité anywhere on the planet, left him in a state of dread.
Every bite of food, every moment in the sunlight, every night between Cat’s honeyed thighs amplified his foreboding that he’d soon lose his human state, and along with it, the love of his life. The premonition inched itself inexorably closer and strangled Matt’s tortured heart. The situation was impossible. He knew all resolutions not to touch her sexually would be worthless once he was a vampire again. He’d scent her inevitable arousal, and all those good intensions would evaporate. He wouldn’t be able to help himself, and he wasn’t willing to put her in that kind of danger. She’d fight his retreat, and knowing that, he was already making plans to drop off the radar. He’d do whatever he had to do to keep her safe.
* * * *
Matt watched the relentless march of the calendar with dread. The weather turned imperceptibly cooler, and the days got shorter. They walked hand in hand along the shoreline of the beach at sunset, enjoying the wind, sun and waves. It’d become their end-of-day ritual. He felt the ominous stirrings of something else, something indefinable, within. He mourned it privately, unwilling to share his fear with Cat, but he sensed she’d noticed the changes. He sighed low, lost in thought.
“Hey, Laddie!” Cat greeted the yappy little sheltie who tore down the sand bluff to them, barking furiously. The dog delighted in trying to “herd” them as they walked along what he considered to be his stretch of beach.
“Hi, Cat! Matt!” His owner called and waved as they came in sight of the house. “Laddie! You come here and leave them alone.”
Cat waved back. “Hi, Mr. Stanton! He’s not bothering us.”
Matt kept Liver-Snap treats in his pocket especially to distract the miniature collie from his nervous obsession.
“Hey, buddy!” Matt greeted the dog, bending down to offer the treat. “How are ya? Huh? How are ya?” He scratched the little sheltie behind his silky ears and gave him the treat, letting him prance off proudly to enjoy it.
“Maybe, we should get a dog. What do you think?” Cat asked, watching them affectionately.
Matt straightened slowly and turned to her, his expression grave. “I think animals don’t do well with vampires,” he replied solemnly, and from the look on her face, felt as if he’d struck her.
“Of course. You’re right, so…” Cat drew a deep breath, “what time is Rick picking us up tonight?”
“Eight, sharp. He says we’re on a schedule.”
Cat dismissively waved the statement away. “Rick’s always on a schedule. Thank heavens, he’s not human. He’d be eaten up with ulcers.”
* * * *<
br />
Matt watched the horizon turn from red to purple. He stood on the deck, taking in the soothing view while he sipped his drink. The tux made him fidget. He ran a finger under the stiff collar and sighed. Cat said he looked fabulous, but he felt uncomfortable as hell.
He turned to watch her through the open bedroom windows. She dabbed some of the gingery perfume that drove him wild at her neck and between her breasts. She was always careful to use just a dot. They both despised overly perfumed women. With her golden curls apparently tamed to her liking, she picked up her tiny evening bag, and then snapped off the light.
While he waited for her, Matt turned back to his view of the ocean. He was relieved Rick was joining them tonight. He desperately needed to talk to someone undead. Rick would understand, had always understood his self-doubt and torment.
He frowned down at the drink he held. The taste was anemic, he thought irritably, not the rich fruit and smoke he was used to in the fine Glenlivet single malt, and he needed something strong tonight. He couldn’t imagine a Malibu liquor store having the balls to open and water down their stock, but this stuff definitely didn’t taste right. Maybe it was corrupted at the distillery? All thought of the unsatisfying scotch fled when he caught sight of Cat framed in the arch of the sliding glass door.
“Hey, mister, lonely tonight?”
Matt grinned, and caught his breath at how lovely she was. She was every inch an elegant lady in a black strapless sheath, her blonde tresses swept back in a conservative chignon, and a simple pearl drop at her neck. He would be the envy of every man at this stuffy do tonight, and the undeserving bastard who took her home. A sudden tingle warmed him below his belt and he smiled, knowing it was his name she would scream as she came.
“Why?” He strolled casually toward her, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his drink. “You know where there’s a party?”
She rubbed against him, using his lapels to draw him toward her. “I think I do.” She purred seductively, her tongue darting out to touch his ear.
“Mmm.” Matt shivered. “I think I’d rather party with you than go to this thing with Rick.” He kissed along her neck, overwhelmed by the scent of her perfume, surprised she’d used so much. He heard her heart thundering. He studied her, mystified. “Your heart’s beating a mile a minute.”
“Matt…I…” she hid her concern with a shrug and gave him a dazzling smile instead. “It’s the way my heart always races around you, sweetheart!” The doorbell interrupted the conversation. Rick had finally arrived.
“I hate to hurry things along, dear boy,” Rick announced to the half-open door, “but this little shindig is in our honor, so I suppose we can’t be fashionably late.” He urged them toward the waiting limo, giving Cat an admiring glance that made Matt growl low in his throat.
“Dick.” Georgia shook her head in reprimand. “Can’t we at least say hello?”
“Of course.” Rick looked surprised, and then spoke to his driver through the intercom. “Los Angeles Country Club.”
Their foursome settled into the limo’s plush seats, and Rick poured chilled Dom Pérignon into long, elegant flutes. “Here’s to doubling the reach of Consort Group and sussing out Maynard’s connection to Humanité in the bargain.” They clinked glasses, and he smiled at Matt and Cat. “I think this dull reception tonight may suit all our purposes. If you’re lucky, Maynard’s Colombian facility will still be producing Humanité. And if I’m lucky, Consort becomes a major player on the world markets.”
“We’re already a major player.”
“A whale then,” Rick countered cheerfully.
Matt researched Maynard on the Internet, but mostly drew a blank. The guy was more low profile than Rick B. Cohen, the billionaire grocery tycoon, and that was saying something.
He drew the fine embossed linen invitation from his pocket. “Elliot Maynard,” Matt said, frowning at the card. “Never heard of him. Neither has anyone else, as far as I can tell.”
Rick nodded. “He keeps an exceptionally low profile. He’s a great big fish in the Midwest where he lives. Still inconspicuous, though. Definitely doesn’t want undue attention.” His brows drew together in concern.
“So, is Humanité the only reason Cat and I were dragged away from heaven to attend this little gathering?” Matt scowled at the weak-tasting champagne in his hand.
Rick shook his head. “No pressure, but the deal we’re doing with Maynard is worth several billion dollars, and if it goes south, well, no more beach house.” He frowned. “No more any house.”
“No pressure there. If so much is riding on the deal, haven’t you already checked this guy out?”
“Yes.” Rick hissed acidly. “And we found…” he gestured to Georgia.
“Nothing,” Georgia admitted.
“Nothing,” Rick echoed, looking perturbed.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Cat asked.
“I don’t trust ‘nothing.’ Nobody has ‘nothing’ in their backgrounds, especially not billionaires. There’s something. We just haven’t found it yet. That’s why I want you two working on it. Use your special investigative powers or detective powers, or hell, psychic powers, I don’t care what. I need to know I can trust Maynard before I sign those papers next week. And right now, I have nothing.” He frowned and twirled the champagne flute between his fingers. “Now, there’s the Humanité connection. He may know nothing about the party drug or vampires, or any of it, but what if he does?” Rick’s question hung ominously.
“Consider it done,” Matt promised with the hint of a snarl. “If he’s hiding something, we’ll find it,” he disarmed with a grin. “Besides, I’m really fond of the beach house.”
Rick shot him a sideways glance and smirked. Matt smirked back. Cat rolled her eyes at the both of them.
“And, Rick,” Matt’s voice was gravel. “If we find Humanité in Colombia, I’ll owe you.”
“You bet your life you will,” Rick affirmed with a cocky grin. “Literally.”
* * * *
Matt couldn’t deny that Elliot Maynard understood hospitality. The party in their honor was held at the most exclusive country club in the city, which had been taken over for the night especially for Maynard’s use. Crystal chandeliers glittered above them while Italian marble floors supported the thick and colorful Persian carpets cushioning their steps. Priceless antiques that more properly belonged in museums held elaborate floral arrangements and trays of petit fours. The strains of a Viennese waltz lilted from a full orchestra in the adjoining room as they stood in line to meet their host.
Maynard didn’t look like anything special, Matt thought, watching the man greet the rich and entitled. He was average height, balding, a little paunchy, with an open, smiling face. At his side stood his statuesque wife, dripping diamonds and sporting that wind-blown look hinting at a little too much plastic surgery. Definitely not vampires. And that made Matt curious. Rick routinely did business with non-vamps, but a deal this big? It had to be directly related to the Colombian facility, a fact that touched him deeply. For all his seeming indifference, Rick was quite a devoted friend. Matt and Cat would work the crowd tonight, gathering the names of as many of the bigwigs as they could in an effort to put together an accurate portrait of their new would-be investor.
* * * *
Matt and Rick managed to avoid detection in a secluded corner of the balcony, at least long enough to have a hurried exchange of information.
“He ought to be suspect just because of his half-baked friends!” Matt groused, watching the crowd disdainfully.
“I’d agree with that.” Rick nodded. “You know, you’ve been to a lot of these parties with me. Have you ever seen such an accumulation of shallow know-nothings? Am I feeling my age, or is something different here?”
“Something’s definitely different,” Matt agreed. “Every society party has some hangers on, but usually there are interesting people doing worthwhile things. This group…” He paused and turned to Rick. “Why are we
in bed with this guy?”
“Humanité.” Rick winced. “The research being done at that Colombian facility is just too suspicious. It has Ronnie’s scent all over it. And…money.” He shrugged apologetically. “A lot of money.”
“Cat and I are on it. If there’s something more to find on Maynard, we’ll find it. I suggest you take him out just because some people are too asinine to live!”
Rick snorted. “A little irritable tonight? What’s the matter? The honeymoon over? A fight with the little woman?”
Matt turned and watched Cat as she worked the room, trying her best to be gracious. He could sense her distaste from there. He loved her so much, and the dread he felt over losing her had his gut in a knot.
“No.” Matt looked down and his face was a mask of pain. “I’m more in love with her today than ever, and I’m about to break her heart.”
Rick frowned with genuine concern. “What are you talking about, dear boy?”
“Rick, I think the Humanité is wearing off. Things aren’t right. I’m not right. My body feels…wrong.”
Rick blew out a long breath and regarded Matt with a look of compassion. Matt thought he must really be in trouble if his predicament was pulling at Rick’s heart strings. “Okay,” Rick reasoned. “You’re about to turn again. How is that going to break her heart?”
“In a million ways. You should have seen her today when I told her we couldn’t get a dog…as if I’d told a kid there was no Santa Claus. She’s gotten used to me as human, and us as a human couple. I don’t know if she can make the change back. I don’t know if I want her to try.”
“My dear fellow,” Rick laid a hand on his shoulder. “I have to tell you I think you’re worth a little more to her than a dog!” Matt snorted. “Look, this is a hyper-emotional time for you. You’re about to lose the life you treasure and have wanted back for decades. Your body’s about to transform, and who knows if you’re going to feel as raw as a fledgling when it happens. Cat loves you.”
“Yeah, but—”
Rick held up a hand. “Let me finish. Cat loves you, Matt. Please, promise me you won’t make any decisions about your relationship until you’re through the turn and thinking clearly again.”
Blood Rising Page 18