Why wouldn’t he speak?
Viktor caught her eye and winked, she couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from twitching.
“Is your uncle coming tonight?” Sir Roger asked.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” she said. “He isn’t comfortable at these type of events.”
“Disappointing, I would’ve liked to have caught up with him.” But Sir Roger seemed more relieved than disappointed.
A dark-haired, bearded man came up from behind the ambassador and placed a hand on the large man’s red-sashed shoulder.
“There you are.” Sir Roger slapped the newcomer on the back with enough force to send the man forward a step. “This is my assistant, Andrew Williams.”
The man gave the group a tight agitated smile and leaned forward to whisper in Sir Roger’s ear.
The ambassador nodded. “Well—must go and circulate—do my duty. Enjoy yourselves.”
The hefty man moved off through the growing crowd, stopping to greet various people as he went and there seemed to be a huge mental sigh of relief from those around her.
Antoinette caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Someone gestured frantically in their direction and Lucian groaned.
“Please excuse me; I have something I must attend to.” He took Antoinette’s hand and whispered, “I’ll only be a moment.”
Antoinette felt the heat of Christian’s stare from where she stood, and she wasn’t the only one to notice.
“Shouldn’t we mingle too?” Valerica said, piercing Antoinette with a challenging glare.
Christian’s brow creased. “Viktor?”
“You go ahead. I’ll wait here with the lovely Ms. Petrescu.” Viktor took her hand and brought it to his lips. “We can’t leave her standing here all alone. That would be rude.” The last comment he addressed to his sister who tossed her head.
Christian said nothing but his face darkened as Valerica clutched tighter on his arm.
Antoinette gave Viktor’s hand a gentle squeeze of thanks. Lilijana took Christian’s other arm and the three of them moved off together.
“You’re looking much better than the last time we saw each other,” Viktor said, releasing her fingers when they were alone.
“Yes. My wound has healed completely thanks to Christian’s blood poultice. Even my black eye is gone.” Her eyes gravitated to where Christian greeted some dignitaries. Valerica stared back at her and ran her hand over his shoulder then whispered to Lilijana.
Antoinette took another sip from her champagne glass and turned to Viktor. “Your sister doesn’t like me much.”
“My sister is in love with Christian, always has been. And she sees you as a threat.”
“Why?”
“You have Christian’s attention, therefore you’re a threat.”
“He hardly even acknowledged me. I don’t see what she has to worry about.”
“Ah, you see that’s why she’s worried. If he had made a fuss over you or was openly flattering, she’d be fine. My sister has been pining after Christian for centuries, and can read him like a book.” He leaned closer. “And she is ever hopeful he’ll finally see her as more than an occasional lover.”
“Aren’t you worried she might get hurt?” If it had been Nici she would’ve done anything to protect him from an inconsiderate lover.
“I vowed long ago never to fight with Christian over a woman again—not even my sister. Anyway, she’s old enough to take care of herself.”
“Again?”
“Long story.” He shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “And far too boring for an auspicious event such as this.”
“You don’t want to be here any more than I do,” she said. “And, I have time to kill.”
Viktor’s eyes twinkled, his sigh full of theatrics. “Well, if I must. Okay—I’ll tell you all about the lovely Carolina.”
“Carolina? I thought you meant his wife.”
“I do—his second one, who we knew around the turn of the century when we were living in New Orleans.” He took her hand and put it in the crook of his elbow. “Carolina’s father wanted a husband for his little girl and Carolina wanted a rich one. Christian and I were the richest, most eligible husband material around. But he was still feeling the loss of his father and his first wife.” Viktor’s smile saddened.
She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “He loved her very much, didn’t he?”
“Yes—with a love that almost killed him.” His smile brightened a little, but remained tinged with sadness. “I don’t know why he was so drawn to Carolina—she was nothing like Dominique—but she was ravishing. However, underneath all that beauty was an ugliness you wouldn’t believe. I could see it. Christian couldn’t and we argued—a lot.”
“She came between you.”
Viktor looked at Christian who still stood with his back to them. “Carolina loved no one but herself, she was a greedy, selfish person. When she found out what we were, she wanted to be embraced—to live young and beautiful forever. I told Christian she was no good, and he threw me out of the house.”
“Then he did it, didn’t he?” she asked. “He embraced her?”
Viktor nodded.
“What happened? Did she die in the transition?”
Viktor shook his head, his silken hair brushing her arm lightly.
“Oh no—she made it through all right but she succumbed to Necrodrenia. Then she tried to frame Christian for her kills.”
“No wonder he doesn’t trust women.”
“He doesn’t trust humans. They’ve been responsible for the loss of everything he’s ever held dear. Unfortunately for him, your race is necessary for our survival, and he can’t escape that fact.”
“What happened to Carolina?” Antoinette drained the last of her champagne.
“He killed her; he felt it was his responsibility.” Viktor dropped her hand from his arm and signaled a waiter. “And shortly after we joined the Department.”
He replaced her empty glass with a fresh drink and took a sip of his own. Antoinette followed his gaze to a gigantic man on the other side of the room.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“Just an old friend.” He grinned and raised his glass but the other man scowled back.
“Not very friendly.”
Viktor chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Antoinette.” Lucian came up from behind and took her elbow. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Thanks for keeping me company, Viktor.” Antoinette gave his hand another squeeze before Lucian led her away.
The evening flew by in a blur of names and faces. It seemed everyone wanted to talk to her, check her out. She felt like a prize horse for inspection. It was a wonder no one had asked her to open her mouth so they could look at her teeth.
Antoinette’s head spun and she put a cool palm to her forehead—too much champagne. As soon as her glass was empty someone seemed to press a fresh one into her hand.
She’d just finished being pawed on the dance floor by one of the Mer representatives. He’d groped her incessantly. His hand kept dropping to her ass and she’d had to keep returning it to her waist while his not-so-fresh fishy breath had her trying hard to keep down her dinner and the copious champagne.
Lucian had been busy most of the night. While his research at the Academy was his main focus, it was clear he was being groomed for CHaPR and had been tied up most of the time with diplomats and dignitaries, leaving her with so much free time for dancing and being groped by all and sundry. Lucky her.
Antoinette suppressed a groan and forced a smile as the Guild secretary made his way toward her. Earlier he’d had an in-depth discussion with her breasts, never once looking at her face.
“Ms. Petrescu…” he said to her chest, licking his overwet lips. “Can I—”
“I’m sorry, but Miss Petrescu has promised me this dance.” Christian’s velvet tone cut in.
Antoinette swiveled to meet his blue eyes. May
be she’d be safer with the secretary after all. But she didn’t have a chance to refuse as Christian grabbed her hand and dragged her out onto the floor.
“You looked in need of rescue,” he said, holding her against him, his cheek brushing hers as they started to move to the music.
His musky scent invaded her senses, overpowering and fantastic—she could hardly draw breath. Too much of her touched him and she pushed back a little, trying to put some air between them.
“I am quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you.” It came out harsher than she’d intended.
“Really?” he said with a hint of amusement. “I thought you looked rather green with your last dance partner.”
“You saw that?”
He inclined his head.
“What are you doing here with that science geek?” Christian looked at Lucian who was talking animatedly to a group of official-looking men.
“I like him. And don’t be so quick to judge a book by its cover,” she said, remembering how Lucian had handled himself with the thugs in the alley.
“Hmph.” Christian swirled her in a tight circle. “Not much of a cover.”
She drew back a little and looked him in the eye. “Jealous much?”
If an Aeternus could blush, Antoinette was sure he would have.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he growled and pressed his palm lower on her back.
The imprint of his hand burned into her bare back, doing strange things to her pulse. She turned her head away, only to lock eyes with a frosty amber glare.
“Besides, your girlfriend doesn’t seem too happy either,” she said.
Valerica stood just off the dance floor, her arms tightly crossed and a scowl creasing her perfect brow.
Christian glanced over his shoulder. “She’s just an old friend.”
“Really? That’s not what Viktor told me.”
He frowned. “What did he say?”
“That you two were lovers.”
“Once upon a time—very long ago. Why? Jealous?” His mouth quirked at the corners.
Now it was her turn to blush. Her breath quickened at the sensation of his body pressed against hers—his firm thigh moving between hers as he twirled her around the floor—shoulder muscles flexing under her fingers as he held her.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he asked, his breath brushing her lips.
She closed her eyes, hardly daring to breathe. The evidence was pressed against her stomach sending ripples of desire pooling low in her stomach. Oh God. She closed her eyes, swallowing the moan building low in her throat. This can’t happen again.
She forced steel into her voice. “That’s your problem, not mine.”
“Since that night on the plane, I haven’t been able to drive you from my mind.” He slowly traced a fingertip down her backbone.
She couldn’t suppress a shudder.
“Stop that,” she hissed and laid a hand against his chest, trying to put a little distance between them.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth. Big mistake.
“You feel it too,” he said. “Don’t you?”
“No—last time was the blood-thrall. It won’t happen again.”
He suddenly dipped her, his gaze sweeping down to her breasts and back to her mouth. He licked his lips. “Liar.”
She raised her knee and ran her inner thigh up to his waist as part of the dance move. Her breath hitched in her throat as he ran his hand down the back of her leg. His fingers trailed along the tender nerves, stopping briefly over the garter and the sheathed knife she had safely tucked out of view. Then he snapped her into a standing position and pressed her tightly against his chest.
Her mind searched for some safe subject as her heart beat in her throat. “You’re a good dancer.” She winced at how lame she sounded.
“I’ve had plenty of practice,” he breathed in her ear. “At many things.” He sucked her lobe between his teeth and gently nipped.
She almost came there and then. Her blood turned to molten lava in her veins, she wouldn’t be able to resist him much longer, blood-thrall or no blood-thrall.
Someone cleared their throat behind him and Christian stopped moving but still held her close.
Antoinette was equally relieved and disappointed to see Lucian’s hand on Christian’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to steal back my date.”
“Of course.” He released her and instantly stepped away inclining his head graciously. “Ms. Petrescu.”
He held her gaze for a few seconds longer, then turned and walked away. While her legs threatened to collapse under her, his stride was sure and confident.
“Sir Roger wants to talk to you,” Lucian said.
Antoinette nodded vaguely, watching Christian disappear into the throng. Valerica shot a vicious glare at her then followed hot on his heels.
“Lucian, thank goodness.” A stylish elderly woman grabbed him by the arm. “My husband needs your help.”
“Wait here Antoinette—I’ll be back in a moment,” Lucian said and went with the older woman.
Antoinette sat down at the nearest empty table, removing her shoe to massage her foot. Damn heels! A man had to be responsible for inventing such implements of torture. She continued to rub. The fire Christian had stoked in her blood began to cool. Thank God for the old woman; she’d given Antoinette a few more minutes to collect herself.
Someone brushed past her, humming something familiar and leaving her with a sense of—wrongness. She looked up but no one seemed near enough.
“Hush little baby…”
The words swept past her ear on a breath. She jumped up—looking around—heart pounding against the walls of her chest. Did she imagine it? Was she having a waking dream about Dante again? It couldn’t be him, surely. He was dead. Her father had killed him years ago.
She scanned the crowd for the Aeternus who’d murdered her mother, knowing he couldn’t be there.
“Don’t say a word…”
Barely more than a whisper.
She spun back to the right, sensing someone close yet finding no one.
Suddenly, across the room, she connected with his familiar cold eyes for half a nightmarish heartbeat, then she blinked and he was gone. If he’d ever really been there at all. It was impossible.
Antoinette slowed her breathing and scanned the gathering again. It was just the champagne and her imagination. There was nothing—
A hand closed around her elbow. Her heart jolted into her throat as she involuntarily recoiled, her shoe dropping with a thud to the floor.
13
Date with an Ambassador
“Hey.” Lucian pulled her closer and put his arms around her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Antoinette felt foolish and relaxed against him for a moment, soaking up his comfort then drew back and gave him a smile.
“Are you okay?” He placed a finger under her chin, his features twisting in concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
She let the air escape her lungs, hoping it sounded like an offhanded laugh instead of the hysteria that bubbled just below the surface. Was she going insane?
“I think the evening and the champagne have gone to my head.” She winced at her shaky voice.
“You do look awfully pale. How about we go see what the ambassador wants and then I’ll take you back to your hotel?”
“That’d be good.”
He bent down to pick up her shoe and gently slipped it back on her foot. No lingering touches, nothing untoward, just a simple helping hand.
“Lean on me,” he said, holding out his elbow.
Antoinette didn’t hesitate and slipped her arm through his.
“Is the old woman okay?” Antoinette asked, trying to keep her voice even.
“What?” Lucian frowned. “Oh. Yes. The evening and champagne have taken their toll on her husband too, although it’s more likely the champagne in his case. I’ve arranged a room for them in the hote
l.”
“That was nice of you.”
“I do what I can,” he said. “Now let’s go—Sir Roger’s waiting.”
Antoinette heard the ambassador long before she saw him. He stood near the entrance talking to the gigantic man Viktor had exchanged looks with earlier. With them was a beautiful pale woman.
“Ah, you’ve found her. Good,” the ambassador boomed.
“Your Excellency, I really think you should keep your bodyguards with you at all times,” Oberon said. “The Department assigned them to protect you.”
“Nonsense!” The ambassador waved away Oberon’s concern. “I told Christian Laroque and now I’m telling you. I don’t need a security detail protecting me inside my room. They can stand outside my door and that’s final. Besides, I have two Guild members with me.” He reached out and took Antoinette’s right hand in his. “And this lovely creature is one of our most talented. I think I’ll be safe enough in her hands.”
He plastered a sloppy kiss on her knuckles. Antoinette fought the urge to wipe the back of her hand on her gown.
Oberon turned his stern frown on her, his top lip lifted into a half-sneer. “You can’t be too prepared, Excellency.”
“I’m in a hotel that has been secured by numerous Department and CHaPR divisions including your own—I don’t think the extra intrusion is necessary,” Sir Roger said.
“Whatever you say, Excellency.” Somehow the agent made it sound like an insult.
He turned on his heels and stalked off in the other direction, the pale woman almost running to keep up.
Antoinette watched them go. She’d hate to get on the wrong side of that man.
Lucian and Sir Roger waited for her at the elevator. The two bodyguards entered after them and stood near the doors with hands clasped together in front.
Once the elevator started to ascend, Sir Roger took her hand. “My dear, do you know how much you look like your mother?”
“I’ve been told, Excellency.” She had a picture of her parents by her bed at home.
“Yes—the spitting image. She and I were close once, you know. I would’ve married her if your father hadn’t come along.” His face went all dreamy with past memories for a moment. Antoinette glanced at Lucian, who shrugged.
Night's Cold Kiss Page 11