The figure moved closer into the flickering arc of the single streetlight, at the same time Randy swore as a familiar scent hit him.
“Christ, Chad! What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You got no brains? I could’a shot you, man.”
“Nah, I move too fast and you shoot too slow.” He chuckled.
“Chad?” said Crissy, wriggling around in front of him.
The big smile that lit her face made Randy want to snarl. So did the quick hug she gave his cousin. Hell, he felt like he had to push for every one he got, and she was just handing them out to the cat, free as you please.
Arms wrapped around her, Chad looked over her shoulder at him and smirked.
She tilted her head back. “What’re you doing here?” she asked.
Randy eased her out of Chad’s arms and back up against his chest, his arm around her waist, anchoring her. He didn’t miss the wink Chad threw Crissy though. His lip curled in warning.
“Just keeping an eye on things. Wasn’t sure how distracted the big guy here would be.”
Randy snorted. “I’m on it, man. Who’s that with you?” He peered into the darkness, sniffing as he did so. “Marcus? That you?”
A familiar tall figure, dressed impeccably as usual in grey Armani, stepped into the small pool of light.
“Most certainly. Hello, Randy. And this…” he took Crissy’s hand and leaned over it, brilliant cerulean eyes flashing with mirth as he kissed it briefly, “must be the lovely Crissy. A pleasure to meet you.”
Those eyes of Marcus’ were the killer. He’d seen too many women fall under their spell not to have considerable respect for their impact, and braced himself for Crissy’s reaction.
“Hello, Marcus. Nice to meet you too,” she said, tossing a quick glance over her shoulder at Randy and smiling before returning her attention back to Marcus. “I can see you guys must have all gone to the same charm school.”
Marcus shrugged, a small self-deprecating movement. “Well, I have tried to give them both the benefit of my experience, but you would have noticed they are both still a little…ah…rough around the edges, yes?” His eyes held hers intently.
Randy held his breath, waiting for the vamp-voodoo pheromone thing to take effect on Crissy, ready to yank her back to his side and break the spell. But no reaction. Randy suddenly remembered to breathe. But what the…? Even though weres weren’t affected, even he’d felt the mesmerizing pull of Marcus’ vamp magic.
Crissy laughed out loud, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, I like you, Marcus. So, y’all coming in for some coffee?”
Marcus looked quizzically at Randy as his surprised query penetrated Randy’s mind. Have you marked her, my friend?
Randy, who felt a satisfying urge to smirk at Crissy’s reaction, or lack of, to Marcus, shook his head. She had to be the first female he’d met who didn’t melt into a puddle at Marcus’ feet.
Strange… She is not affected. You are sure…?
Randy just glared at him in answer. Hell, if he’d marked her, it’d hardly be something he’d be likely to forget. Unless… Nah, he would have remembered. Surely.
“An invitation too enticing to refuse,” said Marcus, breaking into his thoughts, and offering Crissy his arm.
Shit. Marcus’ nights were everyone else’s days—this could take hours. So much for time alone with her. They might as well invite the whole damn street in and bake chocolate chip cookies while they were at it.
“I didn’t think coffee was on your list of beverages, Marcus.” Randy watched as Crissy and Marcus walked up the steps to the front door.
He turned back, baring his teeth for just a second so his fangs showed briefly before retracting, and winked. “I make allowances—on occasion.” Taking the keys from Crissy, he opened the door for her and allowed her to precede him into the house. “After you…”
Watching Marcus and Crissy head inside, Randy pulled Chad aside before they followed. “Anything?”
For once Chad looked serious. “Oh yeah. Like we thought. Worse than we thought. A vamp was here last night. And Marcus tells me it was one of the old guys. Which ain’t good. That means this was about more than just a midnight snack. Until they control that ache in their fangs, those young vamps only think with their goddamn stomachs. But if it’s an old guy, and he’s using some furries to help him, this sounds bigger than him ducking out for a bit of fast food, if y’know what I mean…”
“Any chance Marcus can do a bit of snooping around his crowd?”
Chad turned and walked up the steps. “Yeah, he’s on it. Soon as we leave here.”
“Good. I don’t like the feel of this. Not at all.”
He pulled on Chad’s elbow before they hit the kitchen. “Hey! And what’s with you giving Crissy your goddamn phone number?”
Chad laughed. “All part of the service, man. Just makin’ sure she’s covered.”
He grabbed Chad’s arm again. “Whatever you’re thinking, just forget it. The lady is taken.”
Chad turned to him, pointedly staring at the hand on his arm. “Not yet, she ain’t. I say we let the lady make that decision, don’t you? And may the best man win.” He shook off Randy’s hand and walked off, whistling.
Shit!
When Randy joined them in the kitchen, it looked like the tea at the Ritz. A shop-bought cake on a plate, and all those little china cup and saucer doodads… And Marcus, smooth as they come, sitting there with his legs crossed and his damn pinky sticking out looking like Sir Walter Raleigh having tea with the Queen.
It was amazing how many women he roped in with all that Latin charm and super-smooth junk. He’d shared a woman with Marcus. Just once. Chad had a few times, he knew. And people reckoned weres were bad. The man could screw all night without taking a break. Maybe it was in the blood…or something he drank…or in Marcus’ case, both. Whatever it was, he could make a mint if he bottled it. It’d put Viagra right out of business.
A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Head tipped back, Crissy was trying, unsuccessfully, to massage the back of her neck. Moving behind her, he lifted the long silky fall of honey-blonde hair to the side and started running his thumbs up her neck and massaging her shoulders until she shut her eyes and dropped her head back against him, landing square on his cock. He gritted his teeth—the initial discomfort was worth it for the little moans she let slip.
“O-kay. I think that’s our cue, Chad.” Marcus stood. “The lady is tired and needs her sleep. And you and I have work to do.”
Crissy opened her eyes and offered him a tired smile. “And what work do you do, Marcus?”
“I am a man of mystery, dear lady.” He winked. “You go get a good night’s sleep. We’ll keep watch. Don’t worry.”
Hearing the front door click, Crissy yawned and stretched, patting Randy’s hands as she stood. “Thanks for the massage, Randy.”
“Anytime. You head up, Crissy. I’m just going to check the outside of the house, make sure everything is as secure as it can be until we get those locks fixed.”
“I’ll make up the bed in the spare room—”
“That’s not necessary.”
She spun around, exasperation and tiredness fighting for dominance. “I meant what I said, Randy. You’re not sleeping with me.”
A half grin tinged with a hint of…what was it—regret?—tipped up the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for the reminder, babe, but I’m not sleeping. Period. I’m meant to be watching out for you, remember.”
She felt a bit nonplussed. Somehow she’d been expecting a bit more of a fight about the whole thing. “Oh. Well…good. Thanks.”
Before she climbed the stairs, she grabbed a blanket and a couple of pillows out of the hall cupboard and stacked them on the end of the sofa in the living room, just in case he changed his mind through the night. After she’d brushed her hair and cleaned her teeth, she wandered back downstairs to check her messages. She noticed Randy still hadn’t come back in. She picked up a pen and presse
d the Play button.
“…Yeah, it’s Pete. Pick up, Cris… Look, I’m heading down your way next month. Can I bunk with you? It’ll be for about a week. Call me, okay? Love you.”
With a grin on her face, she waited for the next message.
“…Crissy honey? You there? It’s Jerry. Call me, willya? Looks like we’re on for tomorrow night and I’ll be needing your special talents. Later, doll…”
She jotted down a message to make sure she got her old camera charged up, seeing as how her new one was now long gone.
“…Crissy? Sweetheart? I’m sorry I missed you. I was hoping we could talk.” Pause. “It’s…it’s about the other night. If I did something wrong, tell me. I’ll make it better… Look, I’d rather not discuss it on the phone. Maybe tomorrow? Just let me know and I’ll be there. Call me. Please?”
“Exactly how many men do you have in your life, Crissy?”
Crissy jumped at the dark voice behind her and spun round. Randy was standing close—real close—and looking…well, if she had to put a word on it, it would be dark, angry.
“Randy! Do you have to creep up on me like that?”
“Well?”
“I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.”
“Your safety is my concern. That means I need to know which people to cross off my list of suspects. Who were those men?”
It was hard to believe the dark, brooding man looming over her was the same man who’d been giving her a massage in front of company only moments ago. Arms folded over his chest, he looked bigger, darker…almost scary.
“They’re all harmless, trust me—”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Fine. My brother, the guy I do some freelance work with when he needs a photographer, and…and…Neil.”
“And who or what is Neil?”
“Neil is…kinda…well, my boyfriend…or not.” Okay, that just sounded dumb.
“Yes or no, babe. Which is it?”
“Yes. I mean, no… Oh, go take a hike, Randy.”
“You don’t sound real sure. And are there any others I should know about?”
“What? You think I have men tucked away everywhere?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“Why you!” What a nerve! She reached up to slap his face, but her wrist was caught in a steel grip before it ever reached its target.
“And this Neil… Do you love him? I think not, considering you kinda can’t decide what he is to you.”
She struggled against his hold, not because she wanted to get away, but because she was a half a breath away from jumping him. Without him even being aware, he’d just hit her “on” button. Tall, sexy and dominating. Everything that Neil wasn’t.
“Does he make you burn, babe?” He yanked her arm behind her, jerking her body roughly up against him.”
A little domination fantasy she’d had for years was coming true, and now that it was, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.
His free hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place, while he lowered his mouth and kissed her. Hard. His mouth was hungry, seeking, relentless. “Does he make you wet when he kisses you?” His tongue pushed inside her mouth, lips moving wildly over hers. Possessive. Dominating.
At first she tensed. Fought it. Fought the burgeoning need. God, the craving. Until his mouth softened. Became caressing, seductive. Coaxing her. Teasing.
And when his arms moved to surround her, a splayed hand fanning out over her buttock to jerk her solidly against the heated, pulsing length of his erection, she instinctively widened her stance, feeling the warmth and wetness flow.
When he tore his mouth from hers, leaving her gasping for breath, he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he held her at arms length. “Bed. Now. Before I lose what’s left of my control and fuck you where you stand.”
Some misguided touch of bravado flickered through her, forcing words from her mouth. “In your dreams, big guy.”
Spinning on her heel, she headed for the stairs, her heart pounding out a staccato beat with every step.
But he was right, damn him. No man could make her burn like he could, and with just a kiss.
* * * * *
Sometime during the night, she wasn’t sure what time it was or, upon reflection, even if she dreamed it, she woke and opened her eyes. There, in the soft glow of the moon filtering through the sheer curtains, she saw Randy slouched on the couch, one leg hanging over the back of it, looking out the window with a pensive expression on his face.
Her heart and her body clenched as she watched him. Without a doubt, he really was the most magnificent-looking man. With that long, sun-streaked hair, tanned skin and broad shoulders, he could pass for a guy more at home on a surfboard than anything else. But it was the eyes that did it to her every time he looked at her. Like he could see into her soul and read every thought she had.
As if he sensed her watching him, his head swung around slowly and he looked right at her, a faint smile crossing his face.
Standing, he took a few long strides to the bed and sat down beside her. Her heart sped up as he reached out a hand and brushed the wispy bangs back off her face.
“Go back to sleep, babe. The night is quiet and I’ll be right here.”
The continual gentle caresses made her eyelids heavy, leaden, and as much as she fought it, they closed.
Did she imagine the soft kiss that feathered across her lips a moment later?
* * * * *
When she opened her eyes again, the sun was streaming in through the sheer lacy curtains. The smell of coffee filtered up the stairs. Surely Georgie wasn’t here already? But then Georgie would be the last person on the planet to brew coffee. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was still too early for her cousin to be up and about anyway. Which meant Randy must be responsible for the coffee she could smell.
Randy.
Sitting up in bed, she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it around to the side, and plaited the long strands into a loose rope as the memory of the night before came back to her.
She must have dreamt it. Had to. The Randy Trudeau she knew of would have been in the bed, not sitting beside her, stroking her forehead and kissing her softly.
Shaking off the last remnants of sleep, she padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower, stepping in when the tendrils of steam drifted around the curtain.
Refreshed and fully awake, she chastised herself for her fanciful thoughts. No way. Now the man was haunting her dreams as well.
Still, as she left her room, she wandered over to the couch, running her hand over the soft red velvet. And there, in the middle of the old seat, a depression…
Chapter Five
“Wow! That smells fantastic, Randy. You got any other hidden talents?”
Randy turned, the cheeky grin on her face feeding the hunger he was feeling this morning—and not for food. The night had been long. Too long. “Just say the word, babe, and I’ll let you have a taste of all of them.” He winked at her.
This morning she had on soft faded jeans that showed off her long legs and a sheer blouse that teased and hinted at the lacy bra underneath. His mouth watered. Damn, he had to get over this obsession with her breasts.
As if reading his mind, she laughed. “I think for now I’ll settle for a taste of whatever you have cooking there,” she said, trying to peek over his shoulder.
“It’s only coffee and sweet rolls.” He turned with the plate he’d been piling high and put it on the old wooden kitchen table. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Yeah, right. Like a crummy roll was going to fix what was ailing him.
He grabbed a couple of mugs and handed them to her.
“Can you get me one too?” He nodded at the coffeepot. “It’s freshly made.” Screwing the tea towel up into a ball, he tossed it onto the counter before pulling up a chair and planting himself down. “So, what’s on your agenda for today?”
Taking the mil
k out of the fridge, she lifted it questioningly at him, but he shook his head, and she poured a dash in her own cup followed by a spoonful of sugar, stirring as she pondered. Fatso, the anorexic furball, came into the kitchen then and rubbed up against her, looking for a scratch behind the ears. He’d tried to make nice with the damn cat this morning and had another wound for his trouble.
“Well, I better find out what Jerry wants, and then I have to run a few errands—go see the editor of that new chic mag. I think she might have a celeb story coming up she wants me to shoot. Phone calls—usual stuff.”
“You going to see this Jerry-guy? Maybe I should go with you…” Maybe he just shouldn’t let her out of his sight, was what he should do.
“No, I’m not going to see this Jerry-guy. I’m going to phone him. Happy?”
He grunted. He’d be happier if she didn’t speak to any guy who called her “doll” at all. “You got that list of recent jobs for me to look over?”
“I’ll do that right after breakfast.” Breaking a roll in half so that the soft scent of spice escaped with the steam, she took a bite and moaned, the sexy sound enough to make him grit his teeth. Nope, a lump of spicy bread definitely was not doing the job. He’d be better off tearing the sole off his shoe and biting down on the leather to stop him from grabbing her ‘round the waist, and planting her right over his cock—just as soon as he stripped them both naked.
“They’re really great, Randy. Where’d you learn to make them?”
“From my mom. Old family recipe.”
“What’s that flavor? I can’t pick it.”
“Cinnamon.” If he’d known how to cook any other sort, he’d have done so—the smell of baking cinnamon biscuits was too damn close to her intoxicating scent. Consequently, he’d been stumbling around the kitchen with a massive hard-on for the last fifteen minutes.
“That’s it—cinnamon.” She swallowed, humming her delight, and took a sip of her coffee. “How about you? Didn’t you say something about changing the locks?”
“Yeah. The locksmith will be here in about a half hour. I called him early.”
“So does that mean you won’t be staying here tonight?”
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