My pulse thrums through my veins in my eagerness to see Boz again. I spent extra time getting ready tonight. I’m wearing my long hair down, and I applied just enough makeup for a subtle glow. My dress is new—a steal from Target—but I think it says elegant sophistication. It’s a pale pink floral dress with cap sleeves and a shallow V neck in the formfitting bodice. The hem ends at my knees, falling in a diagonal to my ankles in back. Light beige open-toed high-heeled sandals complete the look. Will he notice?
My dad stops at an elegant-looking restaurant, ornate carved pillars flanking the door. He holds the door for us and ushers us in. “Ladies.”
I step in first, noticing the crisp white tablecloths and expensive-looking art on the walls—all colorful abstract splashes or clumpy portraits of people holding black umbrellas. But none of that holds my attention as my body starts to tingle, sensing Boz is near. How or why I react physically to him in such a strange way, I don’t know.
My eyes search the dimly lit space for the man I can’t seem to stop thinking about. And Neli, of course. I spot them at a long banquette table in the back. Neli’s glaring at a man sitting alone at a nearby table.
I wave to her. She immediately smiles and stands. “Bonsoir! Glad you found the place.”
Boz stands and inclines his head in greeting. My breath catches. He’s stunning in an expensive-looking navy suit tailored to his exquisite muscular perfection. Every nerve ending sparks to life.
My mom rushes forward, thanking them both profusely for everything.
“It is nothing,” Boz says modestly.
“It’s everything,” I say.
His silvery eyes lock on mine for an intense moment. I fight the urge to draw closer. His pull is magnetic.
Eliza and Mabel bound forward, hugging Neli and thanking her for everything. Then they gush over Boz.
“You’re so generous,” Eliza says, looking up at him under her lashes.
Oh my God, is my baby sister flirting with him? She’s seventeen!
“We can’t thank you enough,” Mabel says in a high reedy voice.
Boz holds up a hand. “Consider me thanked, girls. We are happy to have you as our guests.”
“Killer suit,” Eliza says, looking up and down Boz’s body.
Boz shoots Neli a questioning look. She does a quick head shake.
“You look…” Mabel starts.
“So hot,” my sisters say in appreciative unison and then giggle madly. So embarrassing.
Boz studies the ceiling, refraining from comment.
“Girls, take a seat,” Mom says, shooing them over to sit by Neli. “You’re embarrassing yourselves.” She follows closely behind, whispering in a low fierce tone to them. Mom lecture on manners coming right up!
Boz holds out the chair next to him and catches my eye, gesturing toward it. I take the seat, smiling at his old-fashioned manners. My dad takes the chair on my other side.
After we’re all seated and the waiter takes our drink order, Mom fills Neli and Boz in on the safe delivery of the wine to the judging area. My parents took care of that while I took a much-needed nap. I definitely shouldn’t have slept because now I feel wide awake and wired. Like I could stay up all night.
Neli’s gaze lands again on the man sitting alone. I glance over, and he quickly brings a newspaper up in front of his face. I only caught a glimpse of thick glasses, but something about him seems familiar.
I lean across the table to whisper to Neli, “Is that someone from home? He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.”
“Who?” Neli asks, shooting a glance at Boz.
I point toward my own palm to indicate the guy without directly pointing. “The guy you keep looking at sitting alone with the thick glasses.”
She shakes her head. “Never seen him before. I caught him checking me out and was letting him know I’m not interested.” She sounds tense.
“Oh.”
Boz slowly turns, his steely gaze settling on the man. The guy peeks around his newspaper and startles, dropping it. He quickly leaves.
Wow. Boz is better than my dad at getting guys to leave. He sure looks out for Neli. Wait, is Boz involved with Neli? She is beautiful with her red hair and sparkling green eyes. Smart too. I rub the wine charm on my bracelet, as I often do when I think of Boz. He gave me jewelry. Did he also give Neli the pearl necklace she’s wearing? Have I been pining for a man whose heart is already taken?
For the rest of dinner, in between my father’s and Boz’s entertaining debates about the best grapes from Europe, I find myself studying Boz and Neli. First thing I notice is that Boz barely touches his food, and when he does, I’m pretty sure he tucks it into his napkin. Maybe he’s one of those health nuts, who only eats a few select items to keep up their spectacular physique. Really working for him. The second thing that hits me is how close Boz and Neli seem, often following the same line of thinking. Sometimes it sounds like playful banter, though the playfulness is on Neli’s side. Boz seems to take everything seriously. Maybe he secretly enjoys it, but he’s one of those manly men who don’t show much emotion.
After the meal concludes, we thank Boz for the fantastic food, which he paid for before my parents even got the chance to contribute. I linger behind on our way out, hoping to talk to Boz alone. I need to thank him personally for his incredible generosity—it’s a lot, and my family needs to find a way to repay him someday—but also, I want to know what the story is with him and Neli.
Luckily, my mom is talking Neli’s ear off. My dad and the twins are already on the sidewalk, waiting outside, probably coming up with ideas about pastry recipes to name after Boz. I love that they adore him as much as I do, given where things started, but now I worry about how attached I’ve become so quickly. Is it a mistake? Did I jump before I looked?
Before I can come up with a subtle way to ask about the situation, Boz says, “You were very quiet at dinner. Is something not to your liking?”
“Oh, no. I loved everything. Not one single word of complaint about anything. This restaurant has such a romantic ambiance with the dark wood paneling and soft lighting.” I suddenly realize how much I wish it were just the two of us for a romantic night. I fear my secret longing for him is too obvious, so I quickly add, “This whole trip is like a dream come true for my family.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “A happy dream, I hope.”
“Yes,” I breathe, taken in once again by his rare smile. Then I remember myself. “You and Neli seem close.”
“We have a bond that cannot be broken,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Ah. Are you two more than just coworkers?” I ask.
I hold my breath, praying he says no.
He lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug.
And it seems he’s done talking about that. I don’t press. But she must mean a lot to him. I mean, what guy talks about a bond that can’t be broken if they’re not serious about a woman? Plus they live together. I don’t know why I hadn’t considered it before. I was so caught up in his magnetism, his sexy good looks, his incredible kindness toward me and my family, I was blind to the truth. Now I feel like an idiot. And I’m crushed.
He holds the door open for me. I brush past him, ignoring the spike of raw lust that goes through me. I would never be the reason a couple breaks up, but I can’t shut off my feelings. I can only try to hide them.
My mom turns to us the moment Boz and I step outside to join everyone. “Neli just told us the hotel we’re staying at is supposed to be haunted. They have a tour of the suite where they say you can feel the chill of the old widow pass through you.”
I cross my arms, rubbing the goosebumps. “No, thank you. Bad enough I hear creaks in our old house at night. I might not believe in ghosts, but I could still have nightmares.”
My dad wags his finger at me. “Remember when Stella used to have that recurring vampire nightmare after Kevin snuck up on her the day before Halloween—”
“Wearing his fake vampire teeth!” Mom
finishes. “Oh, Lord, it took forever to convince her it was just Kevin. And even longer for the nightmares to stop.”
I sigh. “I’m fine as long as I stay away from creepy stuff.”
My parents shake their head over the memory. The twins are busy whispering to each other, shooting glances over at Boz, their new crush. Boz gazes into my eyes somberly. He already knew about my childish nightmares, but clearly he feels bad that I’m being reminded of it now.
“We’ll skip the ghost tour,” Neli says. “Let’s head back for a nightcap at the hotel lounge. It’s a beautiful space.” We’re all staying at the same historic hotel.
“I’ll take the twins on the tour and back to bed,” Mom says as we head toward the hotel.
“I’m beat,” Dad says. “Jet lag’s catching up to me.”
“I could go for a drink,” I say. “I napped this afternoon, and I’m wide awake.”
“Perfect!” Neli says.
Boz gives me a sideways look that almost seems sad. “I too have the jet lag. You and Neli should go discuss whatever women discuss.”
“Mostly we talk about men,” I say casually before catching up to Neli. I don’t miss his dropped jaw.
That’s right, Boz. I’m about to get the dirt on you.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Boz
I excuse myself from the after-dinner drinks for two reasons: One, I am quite thirsty, and being around Stella this evening is proving more difficult than I thought. All throughout dinner, as I pretended to eat a very rare steak—just about the only solid food I can tolerate chewing before discreetly spitting it out—I felt something in my chest. An odd sensation. A tightening or squeezing brought on every time I gazed into Stella’s warm brown eyes. Then a loud pulsing sound began, as if I were listening to her heart pumping inside my own chest.
She is my mate? It cannot be. It simply cannot. But what other explanation is there? I have heard many tales of a vampire’s heart beating anew when they find their one true love, but since I have never personally witnessed it or known a vampire who experienced the phenomenon, I simply dismissed it as legend or wishful thinking from inexperienced new vampires who are unfamiliar with the process of feeding. There is a moment when the victim’s pulse begins to quicken and their blood courses through your veins with a pulsing heat. The sensation can be so engrossing, so utterly hypnotic that one loses themselves in it.
Which results in snack time becoming hide-the-body time. Bad vampire. However, that was not what I experienced tonight.
Christ. I run my hand over the top of my now short hair while walking casually along a narrow street, attempting to deal with reason number two for not joining Stella and Neli for a nightcap: one of those damned vampire hunters followed us here! He must’ve seen the itinerary in Neli’s office back at the castle. Or perhaps he overheard one of our conversations. If the team of mercenaries back home are as good as Neli claims, they are setting up and cleaning house, including Stella’s attic, this very evening while the employees are away; however, that does not help us here in France.
Now I will have to deal with two problems: Keeping my hands off Stella, and killing this pesky hunter myself. Unfortunately, I have come to learn that Neli was right to warn me about the technologenie, which I now understand is simply a term for a very large system of intrusive electronics. Perhaps calling it a genie makes humans feel more at ease with being spied on by their leaders, because these watchful electronic eyes, called cameras, are everywhere—stuck on the sides of buildings, inside those Beemer storage buildings, and even married to those lights that direct traffic. Why do modern humans permit such a lack of privacy? Makes it very difficult to be a vampire. The only thing in my favor is that this city has many old neighborhoods, where the streets are dark and the buildings are free of these electronic eyes.
I plan to take a nice long stroll and hopefully lure the vampire hunter. After he is dealt with, I must decide what to do with Stella. I am only one heartbeat away from losing control and making her mine.
Her father would be very cranky with me.
Several hours later, despite circling back toward the hotel multiple times, in hopes the hunter would see me and follow, I abandon the plan and turn my focus on dinner. I cannot deny that the women in this town are very yummy—they drink such good wine—but I am left with a hunger I cannot sate. It is a hunger for a woman I do not wish to harm. I can only hope the warm Bordeaux-infused blood flowing through my veins is enough to keep my other urges in check.
In any case, it is nearly one in the morning now, and Stella should be asleep. She and her family will attend the competition with Neli tomorrow, and I will meet everyone after sunset to congratulate them on their win. I am confident that our entry will be given very high praise. Afterward, I will excuse myself and try once more to find this hunter and turn him into potting soil. Perhaps, while I slumber, Neli can find out where he is staying.
I enter the grand lobby of the Argent de Doigt d’Hôtel with its oversized indoor trees, vaulted stained-glass ceilings, and elegant crystal chandeliers. The man behind the counter greets me with a nod. I am almost to the elevator, a very ingenious closet that moves one from floor to floor, when I catch the most exquisite scent of roses. Stella…she is near.
I turn my head and spot her through the open doorway just off the lobby, sitting at a table near the bar, one leg crossed over the other in a way that exposes one bare leg from knee to ankle. Do not go to her, Boz. Do not do it. I cannot seem to leave. The soft lighting in the wood-paneled space bathes her skin in a radiant glow, and her long dark hair shines as it cascades over the back of her pale pink floral dress. I clench my fists and shut my eyes. If the witch’s curse is real, giving in to my desire will result in my destruction. Not to mention, the very real possibility of Stella’s. If she is truly my mate, then I will be driven to turn her. And to destroy such a precious creature is not my wish. I know this is what Neli wants. She likely ensured Stella would be here for me to find. I quickly pull out the Summoner and send a note:
Prince Bozhidar: You and I will have words tomorrow, little matchmaker devil.
I notice the squiggling dots indicating that she is responding. I turn and quickly make my way toward the elevator while she likely composes an apologetic reply.
Neli: Don’t look at me, dude. Destiny is all. Can’t outrun it.
Prince Bozhidar: Don’t you dare quote Uhtred. He is a great warrior!
Uhtred is that fellow we were watching on the tiny portable theater during the aeroplane ride here. I rather enjoyed the way he beheaded his enemies in his Last Kingdom. It was also nice to escape to the gritty, filthy warmth and simplicity of the medieval era. Ah, nothing like home.
Neli: And you were once a great warlord. So stop being such a wuss, and go claim your woman! She’s waiting for you in the hotel bar. Chicken. Bock. Bock. Bock.
I growl. I knew it! Neli is my trusted ally, but like any female, she cannot be discouraged from her goals once she sets her sights on something. It is very annoying.
Prince Bozhidar: Your fowl words do not sway me. Now, please try to find out where our hunter is staying so that I may address the issue properly tomorrow evening. Good night!
The elevator chimes, and I am about to step inside when I hear Stella’s voice. “Boz! Hey.”
I groan, feeling the push and pull. I should go to my room. I should break into the Musée d’Aquitaine to see the Venus of Laussel—a stone carving of an ancient woman scratching herself. I should find a café table in the plaza, sip wine, and compliment the fashionable American tourists passing by and showing off their Must Have Tees. I should do anything but go to her.
“Boz?” she calls out again.
Against my will, I feel a smile curl on my lips, and my body turns. “Stella, you are awake.” What am I doing? Dammit, man. No!
Stella makes a little wave, and her face lights up with a smile. I am done for.
I stroll over, my resolve melting away like a piece of ice on
a hot, sunny sidewalk.
“I think I slept too much on the plane, and now I’m wide awake. Join me?” She glances at the chair directly to her left. The ambiance is dark, cozy, and romantic. A couple sits closely in the corner, whispering very erotic words between them—vampire ears hear all. Three women and a man, wearing formal clothing, sit at the long mahogany bar, sipping a fine red port with notes of caramel and currants. I can smell it from here. But nothing is more delicious than the woman before me. Roses. Purity. My little virgin…
I take a seat next to her, and our eyes lock. My heart jars inside my chest. Dear gods. The beating in my chest feels even stronger now. It must be true that a vampire’s heart beats anew when they are with their one true love. She is my lobster, to quote my wise friend Phoebe.
But I cannot dine on my lobster.
“So, where did you come in from?” she asks. “I thought you were going to bed early.”
“I meant to, yes; however, I could not sleep. Went out for a stroll.”
“Oh. Maybe I should have done that. It’s just, I’m so nervous about tomorrow. Everything’s riding on this competition.”
Why must she say the word “riding”? An image of her doing just that hits me like a spike to the brain and lodges there: Her creamy soft skin glowing with the light of a crackling fireplace, her hair wild and loose down her back, her pert young breasts bobbing as her hips rock while she rides my cock and—
I clear my throat, feeling my shaft press uncomfortably against my trousers. “I am confident our wine will do well in the competition.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“I would not put my eight hundred years of winemaking reputation on the line if I did not feel it was worthy.”
Stella tilts her head to one side. “Eight hundred years?”
Fanged Love, Book 1 Page 14