“What’s going on in here?”
Evangeline struggled to her feet and fumbled her way out of the room. The bright lights in the main reading room made her swollen eye weep. She covered it with her hand as she surveyed the empty room. Fear gripped her by the throat and squeezed. She’d hoped to coax the young man into buying her a meal. Now, she’d be happy with a ride home, even from the cranky old woman. Where had they all gone?
“Are you alright, Miss?” The librarian asked when Evangeline dropped her hand from her eye.
“Someone attacked me in there.” The tremor in her voice surprised her. Can’t lose it, not here.
“I didn’t see anyone,” the librarian told her with a frown. “Besides you.”
Evangeline looked past the woman and into the dark room. Her legs began to give way as she realized. “He must be still in there.”
“I’ll get you a glass of water.” the other woman suggested. Her expression looked anything but concerned.
“You don’t believe me?” Was it her own version of the boy who cried wolf? Had she told so many lies, they were no longer convincing? She pointed to her face. “Do you think I did this to myself?”
“It’s possible that, when the bulb blew, you walked into a shelf.” Her expression turned from stoic to cautionary. A sneer curled the corner of her mouth. “I assure you that our insurance company has dealt with ‘falls’ before. If you’d like me to call the police, I’d be happy to oblige. I think they’d probably want to have a word with you.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Evangeline threw back her shoulders and swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew exactly what the librarian was inferring. No-one would believe her story. As always, she would be suspected, ridiculed, even despised. They’d smirk as they listened to her story and snicker amongst themselves. Maybe not to her face, although it wouldn’t be the first time, but they would believe she’d either brought it on herself or made up the entire story.
She grabbed her bag from the table and held it open. “Would you like to check it?”
The woman shook her head and looked away. “It’s closing time, miss.”
“That’s okay.” Evangeline told her with a shrug. “I know when I’m not welcome.”
She hurried through the building, fighting back the tears of anger, tears of shame and slammed straight into a cold, solid wall of muscle.
****
“Why the rush?”
“Look, Chris. I’ve had a bad day. Piss off and leave me alone.” She tried to skirt around him, but he wasn’t finished with her.
“Bad day? What, no one succumbed to your sexuality? You must be losing your touch.”
He expected an argument or, at the very least, a sarcastic rebuke. What he didn’t expect was a torrent of tears. The large bag in her hand dropped to the pavement and her body collapsed down with it. She held her palms to her face, sobbing as tremors shook her body. Words eluded him. Dropping down to one knee, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Come. I will take you back to your trailer.”
She lifted her chin, tears streaming down her face as she brushed a bothersome curl of thick black hair from her left eye and winced. “Thank you.”
He grabbed her shoulders, his blood boiling as he stared at the swollen, red eyelid. “Who has done this to you?”
One huge ebony eye stared back at him, the other almost closed shut. Her mouth formed a perfect O as she gasped, “Your eyes! They’re blood red.”
He turned his head away. Despite centuries of practice, he was yet to master the ability to hide his rage, and more recently, his arousal. Damn her bountiful curves. Without a word, he raised her to her feet and hung the oversized bag over her shoulder.
She brushed the debris from her skirt and drew in a deep breath as she straightened her shoulders. His heart skipped a beat as he studied the rise and fall of her breasts.
“Eyes up here, big boy,” she told him, her voice beginning to regain the feisty zing of confidence.
When their eyes met, he repeated his question. “Who did this to you?”
Her shoulders raised in a shrug and her mouth tightened into a straight line. “Fucked if I know. One minute I’m watching the light bulb about to blow in the archive room. The next, some low-life has one hand over my mouth and the other down my shirt.”
Christoff’s inner demon roared, but he managed to control the tone and volume of his voice as he asked, “Did he molest you?”
She shook her head, then winced, before holding her palm to her eye. “I fought back, even managed to plant a good kick to, what I suspect was his shin. That’s when the bastard punched me.”
What manner of man strikes a woman? A coward. A sorry excuse for a human man who needs to be punished. He swallowed down the anger like a bitter pill, needing to stay calm, ask more questions.
“How did you escape?”
She flipped some wayward curls behind her ears, exposing her long, smooth neck. Blood drummed in his ears making it hard to hear her answer. He asked her to repeat it.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “As I said. The librarian came to the door and called out. He must have run out a different way because she denied seeing anyone but me.”
“Surely someone in the library heard or saw something?”
“Nope. By the time I got my shit together, the library was empty.”
Empty? Where was the investigator send to follow Evangeline? His temper cooled to a slow burn. He and Terry Palmer were going to have words. Strong words.
“Listen, Chris. How about that lift? I’m feeling a bit…”
He caught her by the elbow as she swayed and buckled a little at the knees. What had that monster done to her?
“Have you other injuries? Do you need a doctor?”
With a wave of her hand, she dismissed his concerns.
“I’m just hungry I guess. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”
How could he have been so selfish? He’d kept her sequestered in her mobile home and never bothered to enquire if she had adequate provisions to sustain her life. Was there nothing left of his humanity? Was he really the monster she’d accused him of being?
“Come, we shall purchase some food on the way home.” He handed her his mobile phone. “There are many fine restaurants in this area. Order whatever you wish and ask them to pack it to go. We shall pick it up on the way through.”
She took the phone from his hand, an odd expression on her face. Had she not understood his instructions? Was she unable to operate the device?
“Anything?” Her eyes sparkled with delight. “Really? I can order whatever I want? Money’s no object?”
“Come,” he cupped her elbow and led her up the path to where he’d parked his Porsche. “You order while I drive.”
****
“Want some? I told them to hold the garlic.”
She held out the half-empty pizza box as she stuffed another piece into her mouth. He shook his head, content to watch her eat. Where did she put all that food?
“Suit yourself.” Although still chewing on a chunk of mozzarella covered pepperoni and jalapeno supreme, she managed to squeeze in a couple of fries and swallow it down with a slurp of chocolate milkshake.
He looked down at his previously immaculate coffee table and sighed. Strewn across the table, he counted two cheese stained pizza boxes, two milkshake containers, an empty carton of fries and a bag of corn chips.
A huge smile spread across her face as she patted her distended belly and sighed. “Thanks, Chris. That really hit the spot.”
He studied her through knit brows. She actually enjoyed eating that garbage?
“I did make it clear you could order whatever you wanted, didn’t I?”
Crossing her arms over her belly, she dipped her chin and looked up at him with doe eyes as she waved towards the mess.
“Behold, the evidence. Food of the gods.”
He grunted his reply. “I can’t imagine a god choosing to eat this
over five-star cuisine.” He sat forward in his seat. “You do realize we passed three fine restaurants on the way here. Wouldn’t you have preferred to order lobster or fillet mignon?”
“I’ve never eaten that stuff.” She took another drag on the straw of her milkshake. “Don’t even know what the last thing you said is.”
“Steak. Well prepared steak.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve heard steak is pretty good. I do enjoy a good hamburger.”
She stared down at the unfinished food as though contemplating eating more. Her insatiable appetite amazed him and made him wonder about her sexual appetite. Was that also insatiable?
“I’m done.” She flopped back against the settee and belched. “Ah, that’s better.”
The entire scene perplexed him. Yes, the curves and hooded eyes still held allure, but she’d let down her guard. Her body language relaxed and casual. Did she no longer consider him a threat?
Standing, he began to clean up the remains of the meal. “If you’ve finished, I’ll dispose of the—”
She leapt from the couch and stilled his hands. Her touch sent a bolt of electricity through his body.
“Where I come from, what isn’t eaten for dinner is served for breakfast.”
He could hardly believe his ears. “Pizza for breakfast? Surely you jest?”
“I never joke about food.”
She took the boxes from him and cradled them in her lap as though they were her precious babies. When her pout mutated into a forced smile, he knew she was about to ask a favor.
“Do you think I could store these in your refrigerator? Mine’s been on the blink for a month now.”
“A month?” Surely the perishables need refrigeration. How could she manage? “Aren’t you concerned with food poisoning from your left-over food?”
“Left overs?” Her mouth curled on one side, but her smile never reached her eyes. “I live on a diet of crackers and tins of tuna. No refrigeration necessary.”
“That’s no way to live.” He had meant to offer counsel, but even to his own ears, his words sounded condescending. Small wonder she instantly threw up an invisible barrier between them. A divide that warned him he’d disrespected her way of life.
“Well, I have no choice.” She retaliated with fire in her dark eyes. “Some of us weren’t born with a silver spoon in our mouth.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but reconsidered. What good would come from telling her that, he too had once lived from hand to mouth, fighting and stealing for scraps?
They remained silent for some time, an awkward standoff until she broke the stalemate.
“Hey, Chris.” She lowered her chin as she spoke in gentle tones. “Thanks. Thanks for the meal and the ride.”
He wanted to tell her how much he enjoyed watching her devour her meal or simply lean forward and lick the dribble of pizza sauce off her chin. He did neither. Big mistake.
“If you truly wished to thank me, you could save us both more drama and hand over the medallion.”
****
“You really are a piece of work!” She rose to her feet and glared down at him. “I’m impressed. You had me fooled and that doesn’t happen often. Kudos to you.” She slapped her hands together in praise, but pictured them connecting with his face. Hard. “I almost believed you were a nice guy.”
“You were wrong.”
“No shit.”
Anger bubbled up from the depths of her soul. She’d trusted him, allowed herself to believe he actually cared about her. How could she be so stupid? He’d always made his intentions clear. He wanted the medallion and the treasure inside. Any indication of more had been fabricated in her own desperate mind. It was not lust in his eyes, not for her anyway. She should have recognized the signs and guarded her heart.
“Well, it ain’t gonna happen so get over it.” With a defiant flick of her hair, she turned and headed for the front door. He caught her by the wrist and pulled her hard against his chest.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The musk of his body overwhelmed her senses. She wanted to push him away, scream obscenities, do something. Anything. Instead, she breathed him in and concentrated on the erratic beating of his heart.
“I thought,” she whispered against his chest, “I believed vampires’ hearts didn’t beat.”
“If that were true, then why would we need blood to sustain us?”
She pushed against his body but left her palms on his broad, solid chest. “You really are strange.”
He frowned, but she could see the hint of a smile tweaking the corners of his mouth. “How so?”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but somehow I believe that you’d answer any of my questions honestly.”
“Why would you think otherwise?”
She dropped her hands and took a step back. “In my vast experience dealing with people, honesty is not a common characteristic.”
Christoff laughed, slapping his thighs. “Vast experience? How old are you anyway? Twenty-five, twenty-six?”
“I’m twenty-seven. How old are you?”
“I’ll let you do the math,” he teased. “I was born in 1036.”
“You’re fucking kidding me.” She held her palms to her cheeks and tried to work out the centuries, but math had never been her strong point. Her formal education ended the year her mother fell ill. She left school at age 12. “This may take me a while.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, but his expression showed no signs of judgement. “If it helps, I died at the age of thirty.”
“Okay, I can deal with that.” She thought for a minute. Would he really answer all her questions honestly? “Next question. Why do you want my amulet? Is it valuable?”
He narrowed his eyes, looking down at her from their six-inch height difference. His nose, impossibly straight compared to her slightly deviated septum. She fought the urge to cover her imperfections. How could her dark eyes, olive skin and unruly hair compare to his perfect complexion, ice-blue eyes and cropped, wheat blond hair? Even as she looked up into his face, she could feel the swelling closing her left eye. What a sight she must be. His answer shook her back to reality.
“It is not your amulet. You stole it from the pawn shop owner along with numerous other items. But in fairness, he got more satisfaction from the deal than you.”
Heat rushed to her face. “You … you saw?”
He nodded his answer and she glimpsed a twinkle in his eye that scorched her cheeks.
She turned her face away from his gaze. “Why is it so valuable?”
“Monetarily, it holds no value.”
She spun around. “Then why are you holding me prisoner here?”
“Because the amulet is dangerous. Surely with your unusual powers, you’ve sensed that.”
Evangeline rubbed her palm. Of course, she’d sensed the energy in the locket. She’d spent the evening staring at the unusual design and the following day researching it. But could she trust this man, this vampire?
“Cut the crap, Chris. There’s more to this locket than you’re telling me.” She dug her fingers into her hips and took a deep breath. “I’m prepared to sell you the locket, for a price.”
His answer surprised her.
“Name it.”
Well, that was easier than I thought. He must be desperate. “No, you start the ball rolling. Make me an offer and we’ll go from there.”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
“Ten thousand?” She heard the catch in her voice and silently berated herself. That was the starting offer? How high would he go?
“Sorry, sweet cheeks.” She raised her hand, palm up and motioned higher. “Keep going.”
His expression remained stoic. “Thirty thousand dollars.”
Her heart beat double-time as she tried to raise the bid. “Fifty thousand. And, a steak dinner.”
He tilted his head to one side and frowned. “You’re still hungry?”
She balled her hand into a fist a
nd tapped it to his forehead. “Tomorrow you bring me fifty thousand cash and take me to one of those fine places you talked about. Then, I’ll give you the amulet.”
He held out his hand, which she accepted. When he refused to let go, she squared her shoulders and looked up at him with her good eye.
“Was there something else?”
“I agree to those terms, but only if you agree to my conditions.”
Her breath hitched. What did he want from her? Blood?
“What conditions?”
He pulled her in closer, his cheek against hers as he whispered into her ear. “I want the same deal as the pawn broker.”
Evangeline gasped as a wave of molten heat travelled down her navel and pooled between her legs. Her breasts felt impossibly heavy. Arousal soaked her panties.
“You want me to—”
“Yes, min dyrebare. You will strip for me, but make no mistake, I am nothing like that loathsome degenerate. Don’t expect me to be satisfied by a glimpse of bosom. I want to see all of you. Every last inch of your flesh. Those are my conditions.”
Evangeline’s mind raced. She could do so much with that money. Good doctors for her mother. A deposit on a real home. She sideways glanced at Christoff. It would make a nice change to strip for a real man. A hot, toned, hunk of a man. Why then, did the prospect make her feel so dirty? What else did he expect for his money? She pushed her indignation to the back of her mind. Mum needs me. The pain in her heart was harder to ignore. She’d have given him her body, her heart, her soul. If only he’d treated her with some respect. Lifting her chin, she met his shameless stare and made a decision. He’d get his striptease, maybe even a lap dance if she felt inclined, but first, she’d find out what was inside that locket.
She forced a smile, thrusting out her chest as she raised herself onto her toes to position her lips close to his.
“Shall we seal our pact with a kiss?”
He edged closer, his breath on her mouth, his lips tantalizingly close, his eyes as wide as saucers. Then, he backed away.
“Tomorrow.”
She tried to decipher his expression. Was he angry? She opened her mouth to ask him and was interrupted.
And Now You're Mine Page 5