He halted beside a black sedan. “Just get in.”
Something about his expression got through to Sidney—his body was rigid, alert, his face hard, his eyes searching the shadows around them.
She opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. She’d hold her questions—for now.
As the engine growled to life, Sidney turned in her seat to stare at Moses. “Their parents think those boys are dead. Why haven’t you told them the truth?”
“They are dead, sweetheart.”
She hadn’t believed him. Not at first. Moses took her back to his apartment that night, and while she found the release Nicky’s seduction had inspired, she’d listened to Moses’ story.
Straddling his hips, she lowered her pussy over his straining cock, relishing the unfamiliar bite of his super-sized sex as she sank on it. “Let me get this straight,” she gasped. “You expect me to believe vampires really exist, and they’re here in Seattle?”
Moses’ large hands encouraged her to move forward and back, grinding his cock deeper into her channel. “I was there…when a couple of those boys were carried off to the morgue… They were stone-cold dead.”
She admired his concentration. Her legs quivered, and she braced her weight against his broad chest.
“I almost feel guilty…taking advantage of the lust he built in you…like this.” But his expression was anything but remorseful.
Sidney grinned, then bit her lower lip against a groan as she slid the rest of the way down his shaft. “You have a long way to go to convince me of your story, Moses Brown.”
“Got all night, sister.”
“Remember, I’m a reporter. I’ve heard some wild things in my time. Most of it turns out crap. I don’t believe in anything I can’t see, feel or smell for myself.” She straightened and lifted, then sank, enjoying the long glide and the rippling orgasm building in her core. “I have to check all my sources.”
“Plumb this source,” he said, and pumped upwards, spearing her on his cock.
Oh, she’d checked out the plumbing all right—and his stories. But it had taken seeing Moses Brown dust a vamp before she’d believed him.
Now, she sat on the edge of the scoop of a lifetime. She just had a few more wispy threads to weave into her final story.
Outside the wrought iron gate of the private estate, Sid put her car into park and reached for the intercom button.
“How may I help you?” The voice was rasping like withered leaves, and the formal speech resounded with a hint of an Old-World accent.
“I’m here to see Mr. Navarro.”
“I’m afraid he isn’t in tonight, nor does he accept unannounced guests.”
Sidney smiled into the camera lens beside the keypad. “If you’ll tell him Sidney Coffey’s here—I’m sure he’s just forgotten about our appointment,” she lied.
There was a pause—which meant her hunch was right. He was at home.
“I’m afraid, I must ask you to leave. As I said before, the Master is not at home.”
She bit back a curse, hating to concede defeat, but there were other ways to skin a cat. “I’ll try another time. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
She backed out of the drive and circled the estate. The man must have buckets of money to afford a place like this. An intersection stretched before her and beyond it the lights of the city below flickered like stars on a smooth sea. She turned right for another pass around his property. She wasn’t quite through.
A tall, brick wall surrounded the estate—not too tall, if one had a stepladder in the trunk.
Chapter Two
Inigo cleared his throat politely. “Sir, I’m afraid we have an intruder.”
“I suppose you should call the police, then,” Master Navarro said, turning the next page of the ancient book he read without pausing.
Inigo shifted from one foot to the other, knowing he should do exactly as the Master had suggested, but their trespasser piqued Inigo’s interest. Nothing ever disturbed the cadence of their days in the mansion. Master Navarro was a creature of habit. “Um…sir, perhaps you’d like to take a look for yourself.”
The Master looked up from his text, no question in his expression—nothing to indicate whether he was annoyed or intrigued. His gaze held Inigo frozen like a butterfly pinned to a mounting board for a long nerve-racking moment. “Very well,” he said, his voice evenly modulated. He rose slowly from his chair.
Inigo sighed his relief. While he wasn’t exactly sure what the Master would do if he were ever annoyed, Inigo hoped never to incite that emotion in his employer. He knew instinctively, down to his toes, that he wouldn’t survive such an occurrence.
However, life with this particular vampire was endlessly…predictable. Dealing with an intruder was at least a break in his routine.
Inigo followed close on the Master’s heels, down the stairs to the basement, through the wine cellar, and into the security room. “She’s coming over the north wall—and having a little difficulty by the look of it.”
The woman’s sweater had snagged on a tree branch as she straddled the brick wall. She jerked at the branch, but the tree wouldn’t relinquish her garment. With a hasty glance about the yard, she wriggled out of the sweater, leaving it dangling like a dark flag.
Inigo blinked, for the woman wasn’t wearing any undergarments, and her small breasts were the prettiest he’d seen in many a year.
The woman hugged herself, obviously freezing in the damp mist. Then she got her knees beneath her on the wall to give her greater height. She wobbled for a moment trying to gain her balance, and then reached out to the branch.
“Oh, my Lord,” Inigo cried out as she pitched to the ground.
The Master turned from the monitor. “You may call the police now.”
“Sir, did you not recognize her?”
“Should I know those pretty little breasts?”
Inigo flushed at Master Navarro’s choice of words—that was precisely what he’d been thinking. “No, no. I mean, she’s that reporter.”
“Yes, I know.” He fixed his narrowed gaze on Inigo. “Is there anything else?”
Disappointed with the Master’s lack of interest, he straightened. “No, sir.”
“I’ll be in the library.” Master Navarro left without looking at the monitor again.
Inigo’s gaze returned to the screen. The woman hadn’t stirred from the ground. First, he’d find a blanket. Then he’d call the police.
* * * * *
“Miss, are you all right?”
Sidney had already decided the evening couldn’t get any worse. Now Lurch was leering at her tits.
Unfortunately, she’d fallen in the only patch of light cast by the streetlamp on the other side of the wall. She sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I’m all right—the grass is soft,” she said, fighting to keep irritation out of her voice. She’d hoped to reach the front door before being escorted off the property.
“I brought you a blanket.”
Sidney stared at the folded bundle he held out, then up at his face. It was really a rather kind face—if a little cadaverous. White, bristly hair stuck up around his head, and bushy eyebrows, looking like fluffy white beetles, shadowed his deep-set eyes. And he was alarmingly tall.
Sidney grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then she struggled to her feet, assisted by his dry, bony hand. “Just point me to the gate,” she muttered, hoping he’d let her walk out with what was left of her dented pride. If a squad car showed up to take her to the station, she’d never hear the end of it.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, climbing over the fence was a very foolish thing to do.”
“It seemed like a plan at the time,” she said under her breath. “Of course, my Plan Bs always suck.”
His lips twitched. “Well, I’m glad you weren’t seriously injured.”
“Nope, I’m right as rain. I fell on my head—the hardest part of my body.” A chill wind picked up,
and she gathered the blanket closer around her. “I’ll be on my way.” With a grimace of a smile, she turned toward the gate. Best to make a quick getaway.
“Ah…miss!”
Sidney paused, knowing her escape couldn’t be this easy—Murphy was running the show.
“You’re shivering. How about I make you a hot cup of tea before you leave.”
Sidney shot him a glance. What was he up to? She’d recognized his voice. He was the one who had turned her away at the gate. Was he planning to keep her here until the cops showed up? Or was he really offering her a kindness?
Her mama had never accused her of exercising an ounce of discretion. “I am cold. Tea would be lovely.”
The old man led her around the side of the house, through a darkened fragrant garden, and into the kitchen. Warmth embraced her, and Sidney was sure steam rose from her damp hair and skin.
He pointed to an inviting alcove in the corner of the kitchen. “Have a seat at the table while I rummage for the pot.”
As she sat at the cozy wooden table, Sidney couldn’t help thinking how ironic it was—this domestic little scene playing out in a vampire’s den.
“While the pot is boiling, I’ll search for something you can wear,” the elderly man said, then left through another door.
She counted to twenty before following.
The door led down a hallway, which opened into a large room with cream-colored walls and heavy, dark oak furnishings. She’d bet her paycheck the paintings gracing the pale walls were original, Old-World art. Despite numerous overhead electrical fixtures, candles were lit in wall sconces and on the mantel above a massive fireplace.
“A little old-fashioned, aren’t you, Mr. Navarro?” Sidney muttered. Where was he? And did she really have the courage to seek a lion in his den? She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was nervous.
Moses had said the master was a civilized vamp, but in the end, weren’t they all ghouls?
She hitched the sagging blanket higher and chose another door, which led into a dark, paneled study. A fire crackled in a hearth, but the room appeared empty. Perhaps the master wasn’t at home after all.
But his desk might reveal answers to some of her questions.
With a quick glance back at the living room, she quietly closed the door behind her.
“Miss Coffey, I think you’ve taken a wrong turn,” a deep, lightly accented voice said.
Sidney whirled toward a leather armchair hidden in the shadows. Firelight flickered to reveal the outline of a man seated there. She didn’t need two guesses to figure out who he was.
She drew a deep breath, racking her brain for a good excuse for her presence. “Um…Mr. Navarro. I was looking for you.” She stepped deeper into the room—but the blanket didn’t come with her.
She grasped frantically for the edges as it parted over her shoulders, but in her nervousness she stumbled forward. The blanket pulled away as she righted herself.
Her hands flew to her breasts. Good lord, can this evening get any worse? “M-mister Navarro,” she stammered, hoping the dim lighting hid her burning cheeks and everything else. “Um…I seem to have caught my blanket in the door.”
“Lovely though your breasts are, I think they should leave,” he said, his tone lacking inflection.
The flatness of his voice, and the fact she couldn’t read his expression in the shadows, left her unnerved. She hadn’t thought through her plan past getting onto the property. Confronting the vamp himself, she realized just how precarious her situation was. He was a bloodsucker after all. Still, he’d asked her to leave—not become a dinner entrée.
Humiliated and more than a little scared, Sidney decided a hasty retreat was her best option. She turned back to the door and tugged at the knob, but the door didn’t budge. She cursed under her breath and tugged again. Then her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I, uh…I’ve wedged the door closed. Could you help me?”
He sighed behind her, and leather creaked as he rose.
Sidney covered her breasts again and stepped aside.
As he approached, his features were revealed in candlelight.
Her breath left her lungs in a whoosh. She’d heard the master vampire was handsome—but not one of her sources had mentioned he was downright beautiful—or that his dark gaze could pierce like a skewer.
She fought the urge to step farther away, but then her fear aroused anger within herself. Sidney Coffey was no mouse. She lifted her chin.
One black, perfectly arched brow rose, mocking her show of courage. He reached past her and easily pulled open the door. “I trust you can find your way out.”
The silky tone of his voice sent a shiver up her back, and her nipples drew tight and pointed beneath her palms.
From terror, she told herself. Certainly not from any sensual awareness. Never mind that this close, his height and lean, muscled frame made her feel very small and vulnerable. A sensation that never failed to stir her libido.
And the goose bumps lifting on her skin couldn’t be caused by the midnight-colored hair that brushed the tops of his broad shoulders, or the olive complexion that contrasted darkly with his snowy cotton shirt.
Her gaze lifted. Black, fathomless eyes glittered back in a slightly narrow face, saved from appearing effeminate by his square jaw and the masculine shape of his mouth.
She lingered over that mouth. Perfectly symmetrical, not too wide, or too narrow—and firm.
Sidney swallowed and slowly returned to his unblinking stare. With her own mouth dry as a desert, she swallowed. It was now or never. She wouldn’t get a second chance. She lowered her hands from her breasts and extended one sweaty palm. “Mr. Navarro, I’m Sidney Coffey, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Navarro stood still, bemused by the woman’s audacity as she offered her slim, pale hand. He drew in the scents that warred with her tight, composed features. She had guts standing there, half-naked and shivering from a mixture of fear and arousal. “We have nothing to discuss. You may leave.”
Two spots of color flared on her cheeks. She pulled back her hand and straightened her shoulders. “I know who—what you are. You’re a master—one of the vampire council members.”
For some reason, her temerity amused him. “Then why aren’t you running for the door?”
Her chin rose while her upper chest gained a rosy glow. “I told you. I have questions.”
Navarro let his glance sweep over her chest, and he smiled to himself at the telltale gasp that lifted her small, apple-shaped breasts. Delicious. “And this is how you usually conduct your interviews?”
“Of course not,” she said, her voice clipped. “I seem to be having a…wardrobe malfunction, but I’m perfectly willing to conduct the interview now. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“This interview is so important?”
“A matter of life and death.”
“Naturally. But whose?” He gave her neck a pointed stare, wondering what mischievous imp guided his actions. He didn’t have time to toy with the woman.
How had this scrappy baggage invaded his home?
And where the hell was Inigo? Had his retainer acted on an impulse and allowed the woman to enter? Impossible…but, oh-so entertaining. He’d never have guessed Inigo would have the nerve to disobey one of his rules. Navarro couldn’t remember the last time anyone had countered his command—with or without a little vampiric persuasion.
Nor could he remember the last time anyone had challenged him like this delicate little piece of femininity did now.
The woman nudged the blanket with her toes, trying to draw it closer without his notice.
Because the situation amused him, Navarro decided to goad the girl further. “I’ll entertain questions under one condition.” His gaze bored into hers.
Her gulp was audible. “What condition?”
He almost smiled, anticipating her flight. “That you remove all of your clothing.”
Her eyes rounded, and her breath
caught. “You’ll answer my questions if I get naked?” her voice squeaked.
Navarro crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t promise to answer anything, but I will let you ask your questions.”
Her brows drew together. “You think I’ll strip without any guarantee you’ll give me what I came for?” Her heartbeat accelerated and her cheeks paled, but the smell of her musky arousal surpassed the slightly acrid aroma of her fear.
“Do you really know what you came for?” he asked, letting his voice drawl like a velvet caress.
She blinked, and her round, stubborn chin rose a notch higher. “There’s no reason to be obnoxious. I trespassed, okay? If you’d let me in to begin with, I would have been long gone by now.”
“It’s my fault you’re standing half-clothed in my study?” he asked, incredulous.
Her expression turned bullish. “Two minutes—that’s all I need.”
“I told you my condition.”
Anger rose to obliterate her caution. She was a headstrong minx. He could hear her heartbeat thundering in her chest, see the pulse thudding at her temples. Navarro wouldn’t have been the least surprised to see steam billow out her ears.
She reached for the waistband of her jeans. “I’m an investigative reporter,” she bit out. “A professional!”
“Fascinating. Just what was the subject of your last report?” he asked, knowing full well, because he’d watched the news the previous night.
Her brows furrowed. “Passion Parties!”
Her scowl would have made a lesser man flinch. He gave a slight snort. “That’s hard-hitting journalism?”
“It was an assignment,” she said, with a disgusted twist of her lips. “The fluff I usually get stuck with—but this story is going to put me in the big leagues.” She opened the buckle and slid down her zipper, all the while glaring daggers.
“What is a Passion Party?” he asked, baiting her and enjoying the anger that made her breath harsh and her actions jerky. Just how far would she really go for a story?
“Sexy parties.” Her glare slid away. “Housewives hold them. They learn about using…sexual devices and model undergarments.” She huffed and toed off her leather loafers, giving each one a kick that sent them flying against the wall.
My Immortal Knight V: Uncovering Navarro Page 2