He spotted Samantha in the window’s reflection. She hadn’t seen him yet and her gaze roved across the place. Finally, it landed on him. Amused, he caught her checking him out. He fought the urge to puff up like a peacock. Instead, he focused on her outfit. A red skirt which hugged her curves in the right places. Her blazer revealed a silky black blouse, opened at the top and giving him a glimpse of her creamy flesh. He breathed slowly through his nose, willing his cock to stop stiffening.
“Christopher,” she called out his name.
He spun to face her. Their gazes locked. A tingling energy traveled through him, bringing with it pinpricks which both stabbed and tickled him. He cleared his voice.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Samantha said. “You really didn’t need to come. I’m sure if Andy or anyone else on the team had overslept you wouldn’t have treated them the same way.”
Christopher laughed. Samantha’s eyes widened. She placed her hands on her hips.
“What?”
“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?”
He offered her his arm, but she refused. Christopher clenched his jaw. Her rejection hurt more than he anticipated, but he strode forward, leading the way into Main Street.
“It’s just, well, it’s unseemingly, Christopher.”
He chuckled. “It’d been a while since I’d heard anyone use that word.” He pointed to the diner further down the street. A big wooden sign shaped and painted like snowcapped mountains read Ginger Pyrenees.
“We’re going there. They make delicious food and cater to vampires.”
“You’ll have to agree with me,” Samantha continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’m sure if Andy had overslept you’d be screaming at him, not taking him out to breakfast.”
Christopher stopped and faced Samantha.
“You’re right,” he snapped.
She glared at him, hands on her hips. “You don’t deny it.”
“Why would I? I thought I’d expressed my feelings for you quite plainly.”
Samantha scowled. “Christopher, I thought I’d made myself clear when I told you—”
“Samantha,” he said, inching closer. The reaction was immediate. She dropped her arms to her side and tilted her head to look at him. Her skin flushed and her eyes glossed over. “It’s one thing what you tell me and another very different what your body is telling me.”
“And what might that be?”
Was she even aware of the seductive tone of her voice?
Christopher ran his fingertip across her jaw. The pulse on her neck quickened. He licked his lips. It’d be so easy to dip his head and kiss her again. He leaned in closer. Her eyes drifted shut. She could fight him all she wanted, but her actions spoke louder than her words. She wouldn’t turn him down.
“Do you really want me to demonstrate here, doll?” he whispered against her mouth.
Her eyes opened and she sucked in a lungful of air with a loud hiss. Christopher grinned and pulled back. Her dazed expression lasted another thirty seconds before she replaced it by a mask of fury.
“You’re an idiot.”
Christopher laughed.
“Your body speaks loud and clear, Samantha, even if you deny it.” He tapped her nose. “Come on, doll. Let’s get something to eat.”
They didn’t speak another word until they reached the diner. Ginger Pyrenees was famous not only for its excellent food, but also because of its decorations. The place was built to resemble a Gingerbread house on the outside, while on the inside it glittered with baubles and fairy lights, capped with a sprinkling of snow. Christopher glanced at Samantha. He chewed the inside of his cheek. She seemed lost in thought and unaware of her surroundings.
“Let’s sit over there,” he suggested.
He made his way to a window booth. Grabbing a menu from the Gingerbread man-shaped stand, he handed it to Samantha. She took it from him without a word. Christopher ran his fingers through his hair.
“What would you recommend?” she finally said, peering at him.
Christopher smiled. Relief flooded through him. She was speaking to him again.
“Probably the pancakes or the gingerbread cookies. I’ve never had them myself, but others have said they’re really tasty.”
“What are you going to have?” She set the menu back on the table.
“The Vampire shake. Looks like a normal shake, but it isn’t.”
Samantha cringed. “I don’t even want to know what’s in it.”
Christopher grinned.
“Welcome to Ginger’s. What will you have?” The waitress, a chipper young woman dressed in a simple red dress with a white apron, asked them.
“Coffee and the blueberry pancakes,” Samantha said.
“Vampire shake.”
She took their order and left. As soon as she was out of earshot, Samantha turned to him.
“She looked human,” she said.
“Shifter.”
Samantha’s jaw dropped. Christopher smirked.
“If it’s not obvious in their features, it is in the scent. Humans haven’t developed such a good sense of smell, but those of us who have to hunt for our food can count with that advantage. You wouldn’t want to spend hours chasing some creature and then discover he’s going to be the one to eat you, would you?”
“I guess not.”
The waitress returned with their food and once more uncomfortable silence fell between them. The sounds of other diners filled the emptiness. The clank of cutlery, hushed voices, and the latest Christmas hits playing on the speakers. Christopher glanced outside. The sky had turned a sleet gray.
“We might have snow today,” he commented.
“How is that possible? We’re under a dome.” She twisted her napkin on her lap and peeped at him. “Speaking of which, and I hope it’s not too rude to ask, but how can you be out in the sun? Aren’t you supposed to melt or something?”
“If it were real sunlight, it would indeed harm me, possibly to the point of death, but as with most things here, it’s fabricated. It touches your skin and warms you up, but it’s an illusion. All the weather here is fake.”
“How do you stand it?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Living like this. In a world which isn’t real. Is that why you’re so unhappy?”
Christopher stared at her. He clenched his jaw. Was he unhappy? “When I first got here, everything was exciting. I hadn’t seen the sunlight in years. I could go out, pretend to be normal again. Every day was a blessing.”
“What happened?”
He pursed his lips. “Time, I suppose. It kills all. Except me,” he muttered.
Nodding, Samantha focused on her food. They didn’t speak again.
Chapter Eleven
Cool wind blew across her face, sending a shiver down her spine. Samantha fastened her blazer. She toyed with the button for second longer, trying, and failing once again to ignore the masculine presence of the man at her side. He stood barely a few inches from her, quiet and sullen, respecting her space once more.
She was upset. Not with him, but with herself. She’d promised she’d keep the relationship with Christopher strictly professional and failed. Miserably.
The moment she’d glimpsed him in the hotel lobby she’d been unable to stop her heart from quickening. Her body possessed a mind of its own and it was attuned to Christopher like a compass to the north.
But, there was more. She had realized as they stood outside, him teasing her with a kiss which never came, that she yearned for more than his touch. She allowed his behavior because his personality intrigued her. Christopher kept on a mask. One trained with indifference or anger. Sometimes he was strict, sardonic. However, occasionally, all of it would vanish. And then she’d glimpse a man eager to find happiness. The vampire was cast aside and the man he was or had been at one point, would laugh, show excitement and curiosity for the world. It never lasted. Christopher app
eared to be trapped in a pit of despair without an exit. Why?
“Here.” Christopher draped his suit jacket over her shoulders. “You’re trembling.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled, his eyes lightening up, inviting her to step into his darkness.
“We can return to the hotel and grab something if you’re really cold,” he suggested.
“Do you mind? I wasn’t expecting snow. The weather has been so mild these past few days.”
“Not at all. It wouldn’t be Christmas without snow, so Santa always cools down the temperature at this time. It complicates business, but it does make everything prettier.”
Quietly, they set back from the way they’d come. Samantha held Christopher’s garment to her. The weight comforted her, his essence embedded in the material and increasing her yearning for him. She sighed.
“Samantha, have you ever been to a Christmas market?” Christopher asked.
“Um, yes.” She glanced quizzically at him.
“And do you like them?”
She nodded.
“Are you cold right now?” he asked.
“No, not with your jacket.”
“Good. Then, let’s turn left here.”
“But the hotel is the other way,” she said.
“We’re not going to the hotel,” he said, briskly setting down an empty side-street.
“What? Why not?”
Christopher’s eyes sparkled.
“Because I want to show you something. Consider this part of your introduction to the company, if you wish.”
“Do we really need to do this now? Shouldn’t we be heading back to the office? Just yesterday you were complaining about how much work we had.”
“I know, but this is just as important. You won’t really understand this place until you see what I’m going to show you.”
Samantha followed him. She’d seen fairies and fauns, had traveled in a carriage driven by magic, and was living in a dome, where it was starting to snow steadily and yet Christopher said there was more to see.
“Christopher, your jacket is going to get ruined,” she said, observing the soft flakes stick to the dark material.
“It doesn’t matter. We’re almost there.”
He grasped her hand, firmly entwining his fingers with hers. She bit back a gasp as an electrical jolt traveled up her arm and shot across her limbs, zeroing in on her clit. Had Christopher felt it?
Apparently not. His features remained unreadable, focused on his task. The aroma of freshly baked goods reached her, followed by the sound of music. Intrigued, she quickened her footsteps to match his. Suddenly, he stopped. Samantha’s eyes widened.
They stood in front of an iron archway woven with vibrant red poinsettias and green garlands. Beyond it, tall ancient trees swayed against the white stars falling from above. A paved road ran through the middle, its vintage streets lamps illuminating row after row of stalls with a warm, yellow glow.
“Santa keeps the light low in this area all year round because it helps create a more magical atmosphere,” Christopher said.
She pressed her palms to her cheeks. “It’s amazing.”
Christopher’s smile widened. His eyes shone. Samantha’s heart squeezed and her stomach fluttered. Had she ever seen him so cheerful?
“Let’s have a closer look, shall we?”
She nodded.
Hand in hand, they entered the park, stopping at each booth to appreciate its goods. In one, handcrafted gifts, in another, typical Christmas treats from Germany, Finland, or Spain, mulled wine, blankets, socks, more original gifts. The variety was endless, each stall representing a corner of the world and bringing to life the Christmas spirit.
****
The snow had stopped, leaving behind a few mismatched patches. Music enveloped them, the soft notes of what sounded like a piano coming from further ahead. Samantha swallowed the last of her drink and threw the paper cup into the trash can. She glanced at Christopher. His expression was grave, his stare unfocused. He was miles away from her, lost in a world of which she’d never been a part. She touched his arm, gently squeezing his bicep.
“Are you all right?”
“This music reminds me of someone.”
“Who?”
He pressed his lips into a line and his posture stiffened.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” Samantha said.
“Someone I thought I loved,” Christopher admitted softly.
“Oh.”
“His name was Lawrence,” he said at length, his tone filled with sadness.
“What happened?”
“There is no beauty in forever. There is no beauty in death.”
Samantha furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand.”
Christopher gazed at a spot in the distance. He rubbed the heel of his hand against his chest and winced as if the spot hurt him. “At the time, neither did I. You see, Lawrence was an artist. He saw beauty everywhere, but especially in me.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I was 300 years old and suddenly this young man with eyes like a summer sky and hair the color of honey saw me as his muse.” He chuckled without humor. “He had a joy de vivre, a joy for life, similar to you. He was always doing something, creating, marveling, seeing the beauty in the world around us. He saw colors where for me there were only shadows.”
Christopher paused. He shut his eyes and sighed heavily. Samantha held her breath.
“I offered to transform him,” Christopher continued. “Repeatedly. He could be with me forever and experience the joys of the world for eternity at my side. He always rejected me. I thought he simply wasn’t ready, that he needed time. But then, one day, he left.” A pained expression crossed Christopher’s features. “And she came back,” he spat the words. His hand curled into a fist.
“She tried to explain. She bid me to understand. One day, I’d feel it too, but she took him from me, Samantha.” He glanced at her. “And you know what Lawrence said?” he barked.
She shook her head.
“Nothing. The bastard left me a note. There is no beauty in forever. No beauty in death nor in the dead. Life is where the future stands.”
Christopher tucked her hair behind her ear. He cupped her cheek, running his thumb across her jaw. “He was right, of course. When you live forever, the world around you loses its fascination. The colors become drab. Lawrence found beauty in everything because it was all ephemeral. Nothing lasted. Nothing would last. Except me. For a while, I was interesting, new, and then, the next beautiful thing came by.”
“I’m sorry,” she said earnestly, placing her palm over his.
Christopher shook his head.
“It stopped mattering a long time ago.” He cocked his head. “Would you like to see where the music is coming from?”
“I’d love to.”
Taking her hand, he led her down the path.
“It’s a real band, their music amplified by magic. I’ll show you.”
A large two-floor gazebo came into view. Like the full moon on a dark night, it glittered in the square. Green garland topped with red bows wrapped around it, and streaked over their heads like a canopy of shooting stars. Atop the structure, musicians performed and below them, a choir sung what she recognized as “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.”
“Christopher, this is amazing,” Samantha said. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“I knew you’d enjoy it,” he replied quietly.
“Don’t you?” she asked.
Christopher sighed, but didn’t reply.
“You know, I hated Christmas,” she said.
That got his attention. Samantha plunged on. “For many years I felt as if it were nothing more than a massive money-making industry. They forced you to be cheerful, to pretend as if everything was all right when it wasn’t.” She toyed with the lapel of her jacket.
“What changed?”
“I did,” she said. “I decided I was going to enjoy the little things in life an
d I started to see the magic in everything.” She spread her arms. “Every moment counts. Life is a gift. We could choose to live our lives with anger and hate or with love and joy. I chose the latter.”
Samantha noticed the tightening of Christopher’s jaw. He searched her face as if wishing to say something.
He pointed upward. “Look,” he said.
Samantha tilted her head.
“Mistletoe,” he said.
When she glanced at him again, her breath caught. Christopher wrapped one hand around her waist, bringing her closer.
“I thought you said this was business,” she whispered.
“It is.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingertip sliding across her neck and bringing goosebumps to her flesh. “You’re my business.”
Threading his fingers into her hair, he tilted her head and pressed his mouth to hers. Samantha sighed, welcoming the heat of his kiss.
The world around her vanished. The music became a faraway melody in a dream in which only she and Christopher existed.
The pressure of his lips increased and she opened up him, moaning at the first touch of his tongue against hers. Slow and almost languidly, Christopher controlled the pace, as if memorizing her taste. Samantha returned his affection, arching into him, wishing for nothing more than to have this moment last forever.
Suddenly, the melody changed, turning into a shrill tune which persistently knocked against her skull. She recognized the sound and so did Christopher. They broke apart, his fangs raking against her bottom lip, bringing an erotic tug to her body but shattering the dream into a million pieces tainted in blood. Her heart broke. They were not lovers. They worked together. But even that had no importance in the greater picture. They would never be together. Life for her was a moment, but for Christopher, it wasn’t. It was eternity.
The Beauty of Forever Page 6