“So do you think I’m a slut?”
“That wouldn’t be fair. I’ve fucked thousands of women.” Thousands—what was he thinking? It wasn’t that many considering his age; but for a human, he would be a slut.
Her dark eyes became crescent moons when she laughed. “Strangely, that does make me feel better.”
It also made it clear how alarmingly close he was to a bond that he’d sworn against—just one succulent bite away. He wanted to hold her and lick her wounds, he wanted time to explore her body with his hands, his fingers, his tongue, he wanted to make love to her slowly. And all of those were things he could not risk doing.
“So we’re two of a kind.” Her statement was a question. Clearly, she sensed he was holding back.
For a few beats, Andre just looked at her mouth. Then he said, “Zoey, you bring me dangerously close to feelings I want to avoid. If we take this further, we risk something neither one of us wants: an attachment.”
“So I should go up to bed now, and we continue working together as if we don’t want to rip each other’s clothes off.”
“I think that is the wisest option.”
“Tell me that’s what you want, and I’ll leave.” With her small, soft fingers she took his hand.
“I have not stopped thinking about you since the night we met.” He turned to face her squarely and gripped her hand. “Now that you are here, I want you even more.”
An unconscious smile played on her lips; his admission had pleased her. Her lovely, unguarded expression made what came next harder to say. “When we sat together at the bar, I imagined taking you hard and fast—a quick fuck. I do not want you to go. But if you stay, it has to be that. It has to be quick and casual. We try to get each other out of our systems.”
She nibbled her lower lip. Black swirls of some emotion churned in her eyes. Finally her lips parted…
Please, say yes.
She blinked, then spoke very quietly. “Thanks for being honest. I’m going to bed.” Andre’s hand slid from her fingers. As she walked away, she said over her shoulder, “Can we meet in the dining room at nine in the morning? I want to show you some of my proposals.”
“Certainly.”
That was twice that she’d had the sense to walk away from him when he was too weak. Andre waited until her bedroom door closed before going to his own. He decided a cold shower might help relieve him. He would likely need several of those before she left on Friday, but if that kept them safely apart, so be it.
He waited until her bedroom door closed with a loud click before following her upstairs. Lena’s scent laced the air, diluting Zoey’s intoxicating essence. She must have been up late cooking. The smell of baking pastries often filled the house in the early morning hours, although he paid it little attention, not having eaten since before Jesus Christ was born. But tonight, it just reminded him of one more burden—dealing with his pain in the ass cook, saving the vampires, and resisting Zoey, which might be the most difficult. She kept him constantly hard, and it would be a relief to get his jeans off.
He unbuttoned them, freeing his straining cock, at the same time that he swung his bedroom door open with unnecessary force. Davo. Lena stood at the foot of his bed, her clothing in a pile at her feet. She wore only plain cotton underwear, her hands pulled behind her back as if she were going to unfasten her bra.
Covering his cock with his hand, he growled at her. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Let me help you with that.” She tilted her head at his groin, smiling that ridiculous grin that showed all her teeth. Her eyes showed desperation, not desire, but her womanly smell was in the air. She wanted him with years of pent up sexual frustration.
He studied her. She was an ideal beauty by current standards. Her breasts were large; the rest of her figure was trim. Her wavy dark blond hair gave her a bedroom look all the time. White panties and big blue eyes added an innocence to her sensual appearance. Yet even now, with a raging hard-on, he was not interested.
“Davo. Not now.”
“Andre, please. Let’s just try. I want you. Feed from me and take me. It doesn’t have to mean anything.” She put her thumbs into the waist of her panties. He could smell her just as he did the day before in his office. His male instincts reacted to her feminine scent. He was already impossibly turned on. Could Lena give him some relief, help him forget about Zoey?
She stood with her knees pressed together, bowing her too lean legs awkwardly. Her breasts were bigger than Zoey’s, with light areolas showing through her white bra…
No. Lena was not the one he wanted, and his erection withered. She had relieved him, all right—just not how she had meant to. Her glance flicked down to his groin and she saw that his erection had deflated.
“You asshole! What’s wrong with me?” She ran up to him and pounded her fists on his chest. “I came here to serve you with my body. I’m dying for you, but you only tease me. Please!” She started to cry. “Andre, please, it’s my destiny. I can’t move on with my life until you give this to me.” Then she dissolved in sobs.
The melodrama just annoyed Andre more. This was exactly the reason he did not fuck where he ate. For his sanity and hers, he needed her out of his house. He went to the phone next to his bed and dialed. As soon as Kos answered, he barked, “Come get Lena. She can’t stay anymore.”
Lena jerked her head up. “No! Don’t send me away! Please.”
“Quiet, damn it!”
Kos said, “What happened?”
“Come get her.”
“What do you want me to do with her?”
Andre rubbed his eyelids with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t care. Keep her for yourself, or help her find a new job.”
“I’m on my way,” Kos said and hung up.
She had managed to get control of her tears. “A new job?”
“Yes. I am not the only vampire in the world,” he called out, on his way to the bathroom.
She sniffed. “You’ll help me?”
He returned with a bathrobe. “Lena. I am sorry I have disappointed you. Kos will help you find someone to serve.” He bundled up her clothes and steered her down the hall.
Their loud voices must have roused Zoey. She opened her door an inch just as they passed. Lena was not quite covered by the bathrobe. Zoey’s wide eyes sought out Andre. He met her gaze for a moment and kept walking. She closed the door again quickly, and he squeezed the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t afford to care about what she thought of him.
Chapter 16
THE DRIVE TO KOS’S CABIN at the beach usually took forty-five minutes, but he stopped in town so that Lena could pick up some groceries at the all-night supermarket. She hardly spoke. His pity welled up in the silence. She smelled like flour, wholesome. Her deep blue eyes were rimmed red, and her cheeks were still pink with the blush of humiliation. He wanted to pull the car over and pull her into his arms, to soothe away her shame.
He shifted gears, and the back of his hand brushed against her slender thigh. She jerked away, and it was a good thing too—because if she gave the slightest hint she’d let him comfort her, he would never let her go. There were about a million reasons that was a bad idea, and the first on the list was that she wanted Andre, not him.
His house came into view, illuminated by the car’s headlights.
“Kos, what a beautiful home!”
He tried to see his sanctuary through her eyes. It was a modern house designed to blend into the natural environment, with a low sloping roof and cedar shingles that were the same color gray as the fog that hovered overhead most days. It was beautiful in a California way, very unlike the coastal villas on Šolta.
Glancing at her, he was pleased to see the hint of a smile on her face. “I’m glad you think so.”
He carried in her two small bags and she followed him inside.
“The house only has this one main room. You’ll have to build a fire in the woodstove if the nights cool off.”
“Beaut
iful. What a cozy place.”
Puzzled, he looked around. Cozy was a nice word for the way his bookshelves were crammed into every bit of wall space.
“Feel free to use the hot tub on the deck.”
“Okay,” she replied. Then, she noticed the basic kitchen—just a counter with a mini fridge and two-burner range—and frowned.
“Do you need something else? My kitchen’s not very well equipped.”
“No, no. It’s just me after all. I’m not cooking for a whole household here.” She said it wistfully. She must really like her job—well, the cooking part anyway.
“Lena, please make yourself at home. Take the bedroom.”
“No, I couldn’t. I’m already imposing on you so much. As soon as I find somewhere else—”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll find you a good household. Somewhere safe and comfortable.” And, somewhere far away from him, so he didn’t start thinking of keeping her for himself. He had rules against that sort of thing.
“No. I was safe and comfortable with Andre. I need something more.” Her cheeks reddened, and she ran her index finger along his black shiny countertop.
“Lena, I’m serious about the bedroom. I’m hardly ever here. It would be a waste of a perfectly comfortable bed for you to sleep on the couch.”
She nodded too, with a bland look on her face that made Kos think she wasn’t really conceding.
“I’ve got to go back to Kaštel,” he said, “but I’ll be here after sundown tomorrow to check on you. I wrote my mobile number down on the table.”
He went into the bedroom to grab a change of clothes for himself. Then coming back into the living room, he found her reading titles on a bookshelf. “I’m actually glad to get you out of Kaštel. Maybe you’ll be safer here. Hunters are closing in on my father and me.” Her head jerked up. “You know about Hunters, don’t you?”
“Yes, my grandmother told me all about them.”
“So don’t let anyone in. The house is alarmed, the windows are bulletproof. You’ll be safe here.”
“Okay.” Following him to the door, she said, “Thank you. It’s really too kind of you.”
“Lena.” He turned and faced her, taking her chin in hand to force her to look at him. He hadn’t thought before he reached for her, but with her face cradled in his hand, he remembered Andre touching his mother that way. “Don’t even think that. You deserve far more than my father could give you. I know how painful it was for you and I’m sorry. I will find the right vampire for you to serve.”
Tears made her round blue eyes glitter and he wanted to wrap her in his arms. Instead, he pulled away and went out the front door.
Chapter 17
WITH HIS HIPBONE DIGGING INTO THE FLOOR that was his bed at headquarters, Lucas lay awake, worrying over a puzzle. According to Stephen, the Hunters would watch Kaštel the following day for a chance to grab one of the household women when the sun was up. He didn’t trust his father. A childhood full of unpredictable rages and deliberate cruelties had taught him that lesson. He didn’t know what Stephen was up to, but it was a given that he was not party to all his father’s plans. He braced himself for some kind of surprise and finally drifted off to sleep.
He awoke to commotion outside, and immediately suspected it was the surprise. He stood up, shedding the blankets he had wrapped around himself as both padding and protection from the foul brown carpet. Lucas pulled on his jeans and made it outside in time to see a muscular man, bound with duct tape, being shoved into the shed.
Seeing Pedro again like that…it stole his breath. He should have known. But still, he was frozen mid-stride, shocked and furious. Quickly, he masked those emotions. He would have to play the loyal son and Hunter.
His father and Ethan conferenced near the shed.
He swaggered toward them. “You’ve captured the winemaker? Excellent. I suspect he’ll have more information than either of the women.”
Stephen didn’t bother to conceal his surprise at Lucas’s reaction. “Yes, I expect so.”
“What’s your plan?” Lucas put his hands on his hips in case they went for Stephen’s throat of their own accord.
Stephen squinted at him. “I want you to interrogate him.”
He nodded. “Good cop, bad cop?”
“No, just bad cop.”
Lucas kept nodding. “Okay. I like it. I’ll wait until he’s tired and hungry. No water or food, no bathroom breaks. Who will guard him?”
“I’ll set up a rotation of initiates in pairs,” Mick said.
Lucas was already walking away. So they meant to test him. How would he manage to keep both himself and Pedro alive?
Chapter 18
ZOEY’S LAPTOP CONNECTED TO A SMALL PROJECTOR, which pointed at a blank space on the wall. Like in her room, the equipment contrasted starkly with the antique table and chairs. The tiny clock on the screen’s upper right corner said nine a.m. when Andre and Kos walked into the dining room. Good, she liked it when her clients were prompt.
He wore slacks and a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up. The white looked too good on him; it emphasized his broad shoulders and showed just how white his teeth were.
Forcing a smile, she tugged on her blouse, feeling exposed. She’d told him her dark secrets, only to see a nearly naked supermodel leave his room moments later. Shit, she’d never felt more awkward, which proved her decision to keep away from him was for the best. She began to fidget with the computer. Kos poured himself some coffee and then joined them at the table.
Thankfully, as she began her presentation, her professional persona settled on her like a magical cloak. Her awkwardness vanished. She showed them some wine labels that her designer had mocked up. They were simple sketches in black and white, based on images she’d photographed around the estate. She had already sent the designer pictures of the embroidery patterns in her room and some of the motifs from the hand-carved furniture.
Andre seemed amazed by what she had accomplished. “These labels are lovely.”
He stood and walked closer to the wall to look at the images. She cast Kos a sideways glance, then clicked the image, expanding it to fill the screen. Andre jumped back, and she stifled a giggle.
His broad back tapered into lean hips—he was so big. The image of him above her, all his weight on her, flashed in her mind like another picture on her screen. She squeezed her eyes shut, blanking the image.
“I’m impressed,” he said. “Do you think we could see these two in full color?” he asked, sweeping his arm to gesture at the two images on the right.
“Absolutely. You have a good eye.” She gestured at a third label. “While I like this one best, I think the two you selected are the most suited to your goals. They blend Kaštel’s old world charm with a modern California style. I think they might get the attention of your clan.”
Kos went stiff, and glanced at Andre.
“I told her about who we want to reach with the wine,” Andre said. “She guessed I wasn’t telling her the whole story. She was right, she needed to know.” He turned to her, green eyes flashing. “Zoey, your work shows that you understood my goals very well.”
The words made her tingle. Compliments like that from anyone else did not have that effect on her.
She steered the conversation to safer ground by bringing up names. Hoping to find one that would distinguish the wine, she asked them to brainstorm Croatian words. They spent an amusing half hour suggesting words, arguing with each other, laughing and translating for Zoey. She liked watching them together. They were almost boyish in their teasing.
“Perhaps I’m being insular, but words with actual vowels might work best. We want people to feel confident enough pronouncing the name to order it in a restaurant or ask for it in a wine store.”
“I can’t tell if she’s joking,” Kos said to Andre.
When Andre looked at her, his eyes practically danced with laughter.
“I’m perfectly serious,” she replied in her best deadpa
n. “Vowels are a must.”
In the lull that followed, Andre said, “Kos, where’s Pedro?”
“I’m not sure. I left him a message about this meeting last night.”
“It’s not like him to miss a message, and he’s always here by nine.” The furrow between Andre’s black eyebrows deepened. He raised his elbow, reaching around to scratch the back of his head and showing the full breadth of his chest. His bicep caused the shirt to bunch, and Zoey’s hands unfurled in her lap. She clenched them again hard. She didn’t get to touch him.
“I’ll call him again,” Kos said. He dialed the phone and Zoey could hear it ring. “It’s going to voicemail,” he said, then left a message.
“I don’t like this at all,” Andre said.
“Couldn’t he have overslept?” Zoey asked. “We drank a lot of wine last night.”
“I’m sure that’s all it is,” Kos said, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were intent on Andre.
“Yes, of course,” Andre agreed. “Zoey, if you will excuse us, we will go flush out our lazy winemaker.”
“No problem. I’ll go call my designer right now,” she said, already replaying their conversation about Pedro in her mind. What had she missed?
Kos helped her with the cords as she stuffed her projector back into its case. Then she left them alone to discuss their secrets. What the hell were they hiding?
It amused Kos to see his father’s eyes glued to Zoey’s ass, which swayed toward the door. It was a nice enough ass, but Kos found it significantly less enthralling. Once she had closed the door behind her, he rapped his knuckles on the table. Andre glanced at him and then glowered at the expression on Kos’s face.
“I can see you appreciate her professional expertise,” Kos said, perfectly deadpan, although it took great effort not to laugh.
Andre remained silent, his attention flicking back to her point of exit.
“I have to admit, Father, she’s not the type I would have pegged for you. She’s very…modern.”
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