by Julia Mills
Racing down the hall, I ran into my room, kicked off the heels, and barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up what little I had eaten for breakfast. Standing up, I staggered to the sink, brushed my teeth, used mouthwash, and then looked at my naked, pale reflection in the mirror. “You can do this Katharine. You have to do this. The papers are signed. You’ve made the commitment.”
I turned away and shuffled across the thick, slate-grey carpet to my closet, because I knew it would only be a matter of minutes before Madame breezed in and if I wasn’t at least dressed, I would be subjected to another of her speeches about being prompt. Pulling out my suit, blouse, and shoes, I laid them on the bed and began the mantra that had gotten me through the roughest times in my life. “When it’s over, you can eat cake.”
“It better be a damn big cake,” I muttered under my breath. “Chocolate. With big buttercream flowers.”
Oh, Lord, I’m not sure there’s enough cake in the world for what I’m about to do.
Chapter Six
I was dressed, made up, and had passed Madame de Beaufort’s inspection just as a knock sounded at the door. The butterflies who’d been doing fly-bys in my stomach since she told me to get ready kicked into high gear at the sight of Roarke. Taking a deep breath and plastering on a smile, I prayed I wouldn’t barf on his Italian leather shoes.
The smile on his face brightened the room and after not seeing him for over a week, I realized I’d forgotten how truly drop dead handsome the roguish billionaire was. The word vampire still floated through the back of my mind, but I had to admit it was barely a whisper and growing softer the more time I spent around them. I hadn’t forgotten what I’d lost because of the fanged monsters; I was readjusting my opinion. Maybe Vanessa was right. They were like regular people, some good, some bad. They had, after all, been just regular people at some point in time, right?
“You look lovely, Katharine.” Roarke’s low baritone rolled through my body, setting parts of me on fire that had previously barely sparked.
His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as a sly grin crossed those amazing lips of his. It was as if he’d read my mind, but…no, I would know if he could read my mind. Roarke’s gaze held power, if he chose to use it. Madame de Beaufort had been sure to warn me of a vampire’s ability to mesmerize and rearrange my memories but had added that only after we were blood bonded would our minds be connected.
Of course, my first question, to which she had rolled her eyes, was whether he would be able to control me. She scoffed and said only if I was very weak-minded. I’m sure she meant it as an insult, but I moved on and asked if Roarke and I would be able to communicate telepathically. Her reply was simply if we were compatible and the bond was deep enough. The glint in her eye, coupled with her sneaky grin, made me wonder what she wasn’t telling me, but I opted for the ignorance is bliss avenue. God knew I was already overwhelmed with all my new knowledge.
“Thank you,” I replied, not sure what to do as we stood staring at one another, the electricity of our attraction filling the room with what could only be described as magic.
However, the spell was broken as Thomas, one of Roarke’s many assistants, rushed in. Racing toward me, he bowed his head. “Good day, Miss Worthy. May I take your bag to the car?”
Clearing my throat, I smiled to hide my blush. “Yes, thank you, Thomas.”
Grabbing the bag along with my garment bag, which contained two sequined cocktail dresses and three gowns, the young man scurried out of sight as Roarke asked me, “Are you ready to go? The pilot just informed me we will be wheels up in an hour and a half.”
Sliding my sunglasses on my nose and my purse strap onto my arm as I had been taught, I walked toward Roarke while asking, “How will we ever get through TSA and on the plane in an hour and a half? Won’t they leave without us?”
Smiling as he reached for my arm, my new benefactor chuckled. “We’ll be flying in one of my private jets.” He placed my hand on the crook of his arm and turned us around. “If they leave without me, they’ll have no job.”
Without even thinking I said, “No shit!” To which Roarke barked with laughter and Madame de Beaufort scolded, “Katharine!” somewhere behind me. But the rich rumble of Roarke’s laughter and the glint in the depths of his steely grey eyes created a web of seduction and euphoria that I simply could not, or maybe it was would not, break free from.
I wasn’t surprised when he got a call just as we were getting to the elevator and admit to being a bit relieved. Roarke was a lot to take in, especially with the knowledge that he would not only be drinking my blood but that we would also be…having sex…very soon. It was then I remembered that Jacques had never really answered my question about how many courtesans Roarke had employed or even if he’d ever had a serious relationship. The only thing I really knew about the man I was going to be spending the next thirty days with was that he was an old vamp, very rich, absolutely irresistible, and would be my first real sexual experience.
Reaching the underground parking garage, the elevator doors opened at the same time that Roarke said goodbye. I jumped when his fingers intertwined with mine then blushed when he chuckled. “Did I frighten you?”
“No,” I lied. “Just surprised me.”
Leaning down as he opened the back door of the limo for me, his lips touched the outside of my ear as he whispered, “I find that I like surprising you.”
Chills ran up and down my spine at his innuendo as I climbed into the seat facing the back of the vehicle and watched him speak to the driver before he continued around to the other side and climb into the seat opposite mine. Looking at me then at the seat beside him then back at me, Roarke crooked his index finger and beckoned, “Why so far away? Come sit with me. We have much to discuss.”
Not wanting to upset the man who was doing so much to help me, I unbuckled my seatbelt and with as much grace as I could muster, swung my butt around and planted it on the seat next to him. My heartbeat quickened and sweat trickled down my back. Just being near Roarke made my body and mind eager to experience all the new and frightening feelings just around the bend.
Laying his hand on mine where it was unconsciously rubbing up and down my thigh, he whispered, “Breathe, just breathe. I’m not going to ask you to do anything until you’re ready.”
Not wanting him to misunderstand, I turned in my seat and looked up into his eyes. I opened my mouth to explain that it was more excitement or maybe anticipation than nerves but the words froze on my tongue. His grip on my hand tightened. I leaned forward, mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze. There was no mind control or any other vampire tricks happening. No, this was something different, something primal and raw, something completely Roarke that was being fueled by me.
His voice came out as little more than a growl as he lowered his lips to mine. “I must taste you, Katharine. I’ve waited for so very long.”
There was no time for thought as the electricity I had experienced in the suite sprang to life, igniting a fire within me that demanded to be quenched. Roarke’s tongue sought entrance and I was helpless but to do as he bid. Pulling me closer, deepening our kiss, it was as if he was devouring me, marking me, making me want him as much as he wanted me. Leaving my lips, he kissed across my jaw and down my neck, scraping the sensitive skin with his teeth then kissing away the sting.
A tiny voice in the farthest reaches of my mind was screaming that I was missing something, that I needed to snap out of the euphoria Roarke’s kiss created and pay attention, but everything I was experiencing felt way too good to heed any warnings. Pulling me onto his lap, I straddled his thighs as he continued to weave a sensual web of desire and need that I never wanted to leave.
As he kissed up my neck, I threw my head back to allow him greater access as just the tip of his tongue teased the outside of my ear before he whispered, “May I taste you, beautiful Katharine? May I drink from your neck?”
Lost to desire, I tangled my fingers through his silky soft h
air, directing his lips back to my neck as a way of answering. The little voice in my head was hysterical, but I was too far gone to want anything but to please the man who was already giving me more pleasure than I had ever experienced before.
His large, capable hand massaged the small of my back, holding me to him, while his other hand slid under the linen of my skirt, tempting and teasing his way to my center. His fingers gently moved the silk of my panties to the side as the tips of his fangs scraped my neck. Moving in tandem, his fingers teased my clit and his teeth readied my flesh.
My skin felt too tight, my need to release too great. I rolled my hips against his hand trying to hurry the climax I felt barreling toward me. The breath froze in my lungs. My muscles stiffened as I felt the gush of my orgasm at the same moment Roarke’s fangs pierced my flesh.
I had expected the pain but not the rush of pleasure that filled every fiber of my being, or the second orgasm that burst forth as Roarke drank the blood from my vein. My head lulled to the side as I felt the sensual slide of his fangs leaving my neck, and I shivered as he licked the marks I was sure he’d left before kissing his way back to my mouth.
Slipping his fingers from my center as his lips met mine, I sighed at my warm, coppery taste on his tongue, wondering how I tasted to him. His hands massaged the globes of my butt as I continued a slow rolling dance on his lap. My fingers bit into his shoulders as the passion began to grow within me once again.
The feel of his hands on my back as he slid them under the silk of my blouse left trails of fire in their wake. He had just touched the clasp of my bra when the intercom in the limo sounded and the chauffer’s voice rang out loud and clear. “I am sorry to interrupt, sir, but I have Mr. Monroe on the phone and he says it is most urgent.”
“Just one moment, Jase,” he growled before laying his forehead to mine and kissing just the tip of my nose. “Thank you, Katharine.” Another peck, but this one to my lips, then he added with a waggle of his eyebrows, “To be continued,” before lifting me off his lap and setting me right beside him.
I started to scoot away, to give him privacy to talk. My clothes were askew and I needed to make sure my body hadn’t been invaded by a wanton woman. I had never acted that way in my life, and with a vampire? It was absolute lunacy and totally unbelievable, even as I watched it replay in my mind. However, Roarke’s hand closed over my thigh and he shook his head as he called to the driver, “You can put the call through now, Jase. Thank you.”
With his hand massaging circles on my thigh keeping the embers of desire burning, Roarke put his cell phone to his ear and curtly asked, “What do you need, Monroe?”
I couldn’t hear what the attorney was saying, but his speech was harsh and clipped. Roarke’s hand stilled on my leg as he ordered, “Tell me again…everything.”
Afraid to move, barely breathing, I sat completely still as Monroe’s voice slowed and his cadence became deliberate. Whatever he was telling Roarke was clearly not good news. The longer the attorney spoke, the stormier the billionaire’s expression became.
Then there was silence. The kind of silence that is eerie and makes you feel like there’s not enough air in the room. I counted to five before Roarke growled through gritted teeth, “I want around the clock guards. I want their presence known. No more covert operations bullshit. This has gotten completely out of hand. I want you to reach out to our contacts within the police department and most of all, keep those children safe. Take them to the house in the hills if you must.”
At the mention of the children my ears perked up. I had not forgotten how strongly and how many times Madame de Beaufort had stressed the importance of me being seen and not heard but this was different. Vampires can’t have kids, so it only stood to reason they were talking about the children under my care. I tried not to make it obvious that I was listening but I somehow knew I wasn’t fooling anyone.
Roarke seethed as he added, “I want the responsible parties found, Monroe…and brought to me.”
Monroe spoke again but Roarke was quick to cut him off. “My plans have changed. I will not be leaving Dallas. You just do what you must to find them…sooner rather than later.”
Without another word, Roarke lowered the phone from his ear and stared at the streetlights as they passed the window. Looking up, he hit a button on the console in his door and instructed, “Plans have changed, Jase. Please contact Jeffrey and let him know we won’t be flying this evening then take us to the compound.”
I sat waiting to be filled in on our plans. Madame de Beaufort had said I was never to ask what was happening, just to take my cues from Roarke and be ready to act at a moment’s notice. His hand was still on my leg, unmoving, and it was then I realized it wasn’t cold like it had been before, and that made me think about what had just happened between us. Neither his lips nor his hands were cold when he touched me. I wondered if maybe he could warm himself up or if the little taste of my blood that he’d had raised his core body temperature.
Storing that away for another time, I slid my eyes to the side to find Roarke looking at me. His brow was furrowed, his lips pursed, and his eyes that stormy grey that said he was deep in thought and it was not good news for someone. I wasn’t sure if I should keep looking at him looking at me or look away. Thankfully, he took the choice away when in a low, commanding voice, he said, “Katharine, something’s happened that I think you should know about.”
Turning in my seat, I nodded, remembering what Madame said about saying yeah and answered, “Yes, what is it?”
His hand moved from my leg and his fingers found mine as he sighed and shook his head. “There’s been another break-in at your apartment.”
I sat still, waiting for the really bad news, because there was no way he was this upset about more vandalism. Hell, he’d been the one to send me a message while I was sequestered with Madame that everything had been repaired and I had nothing to worry about. There had to be more.
Looking down at our joined hands, he continued, “It was much worse this time. They set the carpet on fire and embedded the legs of the dining table and chairs into the walls.”
He scrubbed his free hand over his face and looked up. “The threats on the walls were much more explicit. They included the children and …me.” The last word came out as a snarl through gritted teeth. “Which means there is a leak in my organization.” The muscle in his jaw jumped. “And you have no idea how angry that makes me.”
I thought about telling him I was getting a clue; actually opened my mouth to speak, but at the look on his face, slammed my mouth shut and waited for him to continue. Looking me in the eye, he rubbed the pad of his thumb across the back of my hand and said, “Mr. Frangellio, your landlord, was hurt in the process.”
I gasped. It wasn’t that Mr. F was the best landlord ever or even really that nice. It was the fact that he’d been hurt just for knowing me. It made my heart ache and then I thought about his wife and blurted out, “What about Mrs. F?”
“She is out of town visiting her sister, but Monroe is calling her to let her know her husband is receiving the best of care and that she should return to Dallas. We will send a jet for her.”
“And the children?”
“There has been no trouble in their current location except Amanda and Anthony insisting on seeing you.” He tried to smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. “They have twenty-four hour armed guards, surveillance and several caretakers and tutors, but all the same, I am having them moved. They were mentioned in the threats and I’m not taking any chances.”
His smile became a bit broader and some of the clouds cleared from his eyes as he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss upon my lips. “That is also why you are coming home with me. I had hoped to do this after our little trip when I was sure you were comfortable with us being under the same roof, but the situation demands a change in plans.”
Taking a chance, I leaned forward, placed my hand on his cheek, and smiled. “Thank you for everything.”
“It is my pleasure, I assure you,” he whispered, leaning forward. I closed my eyes, waiting for another of his amazing kisses. Instead, I was thrown forward as the limo came to a screeching halt and Jase’s frantic voice bellowed through the intercom, “We’re being attacked!”
Chapter Seven
Everything seemed to happen at once but also in slow motion. It was the weirdest sensation; like the scenes in the moving where you see them floating in the air but the sound is so loud the theater walls shake. Roarke threw me on the floor, covering my body with his as bullets ricocheted off the bulletproof windows and armored body of the car. Shouting directions at Jase, who had obviously been trained for just such an occasion, his voice sounded far away and super slow, like a record on a turntable set on the wrong speed or a bad acid trip. At least what I’ve seen a bad acid trip to entail in the training films they showed us in nursing school. Because, if I’m being honest, I’ve never taken anything stronger than a puff off a menthol cigarette behind the gym after a football game, and that made me cough until I was lightheaded and about to throw up on my best friend in high school.
“Reverse, cut to the right then floor it. Run over anyone in your path,” Roarke ordered, still hovering over me while looking out the heavily tinted windows to catch a glimpse of our attackers.
“Have you called for backup?” he roared as fire shot past the windows.
“Are they using a flame thrower?” I screamed at the same time Jase grunted, “Yes, sir.”
I felt the car lunge forward and heard the telltale sounds of metal hitting flesh and bones being shattered. I had no idea how many people Jase hit, but I can tell you it incited our attackers into doubling their efforts to rip the car apart, as what I am sure was a hand grenade bounced off the back window while I looked under Roarke’s arm.
The unearthly screams that sounded like a cross between a shrieking baboon and a laughing hyena only added to my fear, while the taunts of “You’ll pay, you fucking bitch” and “Give us back our property” only fueled my anger.