by Ann Lory
Trees dotted with white blossoms flourished within the secluded area. When a breeze blew, a few of the flowers fluttered to the ground, as if nature were throwing petals at her feet.
Finally arriving at the center of the garden, she noted there were white benches set in a circle around a gurgling fountain. Overlooking the water was a statue of a female reclining on a stone pallet, her hair loose around her shoulders. The maiden seemed lost in thought, perhaps dreaming as she gazed down into the swirling waters; she wore a peasant top, and her skirts exposed delicate ankles.
Hearing the rising noise from the front lawn, she cast one last look at the fountain, then decided she’d better join the party. She wound her way back up the path, then stopped dead in her tracks.
He seemed to dominate the entire perimeter, including her. She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice, but it would not come. Instead, she drank in the sight of him: wavy, chocolate brown hair framed his face; sensuous lips held a hint of a smile; black eyes devoured her very soul; and a long, lean frame emanated power in a simple stride.
Jacques moved forward and plucked the very rose she had admired earlier. Approaching her, he gently took her hands in his and brought the tips of her fingers to his lips. The simple action caused shivers of pleasure to ripple through Kelly; she thought she might very well swoon into him. But the stem of the rose slid between her hands as he released her, and she held the flower, inhaling its scent and him.
His voice slid over her like smooth silk; in that instant, her hurt struck her as well. “Its beauty pales in comparison to your golden one.”
Glaring up at him, she did the only thing she could thing of. She punched him, right in the nose, then jerked her hand back, pain crackling through her knuckles. “Ouch!” She rubbed her hand. “Don’t think your sweet words will get you anywhere.” Kelly had to fight down her remorse when she saw the blood oozing from his nose.
Jacques looked surprised, pained, and amused all rolled into one, as he covered his injury. She steeled herself as he shook his head, then brought his hands down and reached inside his coat pocket, pulling out a dark cloth to dab at his face.
“I never thought that you’d simply forgive me,” he said, dabbing at his nose. “But I really hadn’t expected you’d strike me, either.” Folding the handkerchief and replacing it, he gestured for her to lead the way back to the center of the garden. She pivoted and quickly reached a bench by the fountain, then whirled around to face him.
“I want you to know that I think you’re one of the biggest jerks I’ve ever met.” Once she started she couldn’t stop. “You took from me, and then you disappeared. I never heard from you... You just dropped off the face of the earth. Then you showed up tonight and distracted me, messed up my dancing. Thanks to you, I’m going to get yelled at tomorrow by Vincinni! I don’t appreciate any of t-this!”
She was out of breath by the time she was done and ashamed to hear her voice break. “Y-you made me feel like such a fool.” She struggled against tears but was unable to fight them when he pulled her into his arms. The essence of him filled her being. It seemed so right, so natural to be there that she rested her head against his solid chest.
Jacques took in the fragrance of her, overwhelmed at finally having her in his home and in his embrace. She was all he had dreamed about since he had left her nearly a year ago. Time had always flown by so fast before, but after meeting this woman, hours and days had slowed to a miserable crawl, reminding him every day that she was just out of his grasp.
Her beauty captivated him, and he invariably felt as if he were drowning whenever he gazed into her sapphire eyes; they always sparkled with life and spoke volumes about her vibrant personality. Unable to resist her, he allowed his hands to travel up her spine to the jeweled scrunchie in her hair and tugged it free as his fingers delved into her silky, sun-kissed strands.
She moaned as he fisted handfuls of her hair, tenderly pulling her head back so that she looked up at him through passion-glazed eyes. His lips met her petal-soft ones, and her mouth opened as his tongue swept inside. Kelly’s arms circled his waist, yanking his body to press along hers.
Her knees buckled as his mouth continued to dominate hers, his tongue fervently stroking against hers with intense desire. He held her fast to him, supporting her against his body as he continued his sweet torture. Her response fueled the scorching fire of their kiss.
She tasted of sweet honey, smelled of sunshine, and glowed like an angel. The need to possess her surged through him, his body reacting to her every whimper, the slide of her body against his, and the way she returned his kiss with the same passion as his own.
Finally, Kelly pulled away, expression startled and confused. His gaze roamed her face, and his knuckles gently skimmed over the curve of her jaw.
“No,” she whispered, stepping away from his touch.
His hand fell like a dead weight to his side, as he watched the play of emotions cross her face.
“You hurt me; I won’t let you do it again.”
His sigh came from deep within. “I did not mean to cause you pain, Kelly. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
Her eyes shot icy daggers at him. “Maybe next time you should ask me what is best for me before you make assumptions. But I don’t want to hear anything from you now. I’m past caring.”
Jacques didn’t speak, understanding that she had to vent her feelings. He would let her... as long as she stayed. He would allow her anything, give her everything, if she’d remain with him, but she didn’t.
“You turned my world upside down, then left me to try to straighten it out. Everything changed from that moment.” Dropping the rose to the ground, she stepped over it and passed him. “I’m sorry I came tonight. Just leave me alone.”
He watched her until she disappeared, but even then he listened to the beat of her heart... and the sound of her barely suppressed tears. Bending down, he retrieved the rose she’d discarded and held it beneath his nose, drawing in the flower’s sweetness and the lingering scent that was only Kelly’s.
He’d made a mistake, but he would make it up to her. She was his, and he would fight anyone and anything to have her, even her own heart.
Chapter Five
Kelly spent the rest of the evening avoiding Jacques. It was a hard feat, especially when Vincinni had introduced them to each another, then ‑‑ in Kelly’s opinion ‑‑ forced her to mingle with the jerk as hors d'oeuvres and wine were served. The director was bubbling all over Jacques since Jacques had given a sizable donation to the dance company; the sly vampire’s only request had been to spend some time with the prima ballerina.
Kelly had to keep from rolling her eyes as both men discussed her splendor and elegance. She gave Jacques frozen smiles at his compliments, but humor twinkled in his eyes. She would have given her soul right then and there just for the satisfaction of slapping the glimmer from those dark depths.
Be careful what you’re willing to sell your soul for, mon ange.
Kelly gasped, then glared at Jacques. “Stay out of my head,” she muttered under her breath so that no one else but him could hear. “Or next time I’ll kick you in the balls.” She smiled to herself when he visibly winced; she tried to walk away, but Jacques grabbed her hand as the live band that had been playing all evening began another song.
“Dance with me.”
Kelly looked over the dance floor, her heart thumping rapidly. Then she examined him. He wasn’t asking; he was demanding. Shaking her head, she yanked her hand from his. “No.”
She glanced to the side of the room at the long, pretty table with fresh flower arrangements, different delectable foods, and bottles of wine. There were servers everywhere, greeting the guests with more drinks and snacks, or assisting guests.
“Excuse me. I’d like to sample the wines and figure out what I want.”
“I’ll escort you.”
She scowled at him, switching to a brilliant smile when Vincinni narrowed his eyes at h
er from a short distance away, clearly warning her to be polite. “No, thank you, sir. I’ll manage fine on my own.”
“I insist,” he said in a low voice.
The heck with Vincinni’s silent demands that she make nice with their host. There were plenty among this crowd who could do the honors, such as they were.
She left Jacques, zig-zagging in the hopes of losing him between the many dancers twirling about the floor ‑‑ and purposely bumped into a few of them, sending the couples directly into Jacques’s path. Her “accidental” actions forced him to mingle and accept many thanks for a wonderful evening.
Smug and a little proud of herself, Kelly was almost at the exit when his voice stopped her. Everything in her screamed for her to run for the castle gate, to not to turn around, but she halted her headlong flight, refusing to play the coward.
Slowly, she swung around and faced him, teeth tightly clenched. “Oui, Monsieur Devereaux?”
“You are leaving us so soon? I thought you wished to discuss a wine you’d prefer for the evening.” He lifted a glass in his hand, feigning innocence, swirling the contents suggestively, as if enticing her to take a sip.
She should have known she’d not be lucky enough to escape him that easily. “Thank you for the party, but I have an early day tomorrow and need to seek my bed.”
Jacques took a step toward her. She moved back and he halted, feeling the fear pounding through her veins. He wondered suddenly if he had been wrong: was she afraid of him? Was she indeed afraid of what he was? He frowned, studying her.
“I won’t bite you, Kelly.”
She nodded. “I know. That’s not what I’m afraid of.” Relieved, but puzzled by her words, he had to restrain himself from rushing over and sweeping her into his arms. “Goodnight,” she whispered, then whirled away.
He stood there for a long moment, staring after her even after she’d disappeared out of the castle. He tightly gripped the glass containing the deep red wine. This reconciliation business would not be easy; Kelly was not nearly as forgiving as Dimitri’s wife had been. Maybe Jacques couldn’t have Kelly for eternity, but he wanted her for the time she was here at least. For the time she would allow him.
Pivoting, he strode past the one of the main staircases and into his study while the party continued on without him.
* * * * *
Early the next day, Kelly’s first order of business was to call Cassie, who would now be up and about for the night. Dimitri’s voice rumbled a quick hello.
“Hi, Dimitri, is Cass around?”
“She is. Hold on, and I’ll get her.”
There was a moment of silence; then Cassie’s cheery voice greeted her. “Hi, Kelly, how’s Paris?”
“Interesting.” She paused. “I saw Jacques and was at his home.”
“Really? What happened?”
“I told him exactly what I thought about the way he’d left, and then... then...”
Cassie’s excited voice bellowed through the phone. “Then what? Spill!”
“I punched him.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. Cassie cleared her throat. “You what? Did you just say you punched him?”
Kelly heard deep laughter in the background and knew Dimitri was enjoying himself immensely.
“I didn’t mean to; I just sort of reacted. I was mad and, bam! there went my fist.”
“So what happened next?”
“I told him to leave me alone, then tried to avoid him. When that was impossible, I left.”
“What?” Cassie sounded upset.
“What do you mean, what?”
“I can’t believe you did that. Did you at least hear him out?”
Kelly felt a blush staining her cheeks. “I think he tried to say something, but...” She sighed heavily. “Come on, Cass, cut me some slack here. You know I’m impulsive.”
“Yes, you are, and it’s going to cost you something spectacular. I’m your friend, so I’m going to tell you exactly what I think.”
Kelly groaned, knowing Cassie rarely got upset, but when she did, she could really let a person have it.
“You’re stubborn, and now you’re the one being a jerk! Jacques is like seven hundred something years old, and he was only trying to protect you. Why?” Cassie’s voice rose as she continued. “Because he cares about you! He does, Kelly, and you feel the same way, so you’d better do something about it, or both of you are going to really tick me off!”
Kelly slumped down on her bed, stunned at her friend’s ferocity... and the truth of Cassie’s words about her emotions. There was no way she would ever get over Jacques; she did like him. Faintly, she was aware that she refused to allow herself to use “L” word again regarding him. “I know you’re right, Cass, but it’s hard. I can’t go through it again if he walks out of my life once more. I can’t.”
“I’m sorry; I don’t have any answers for that. I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“What should I do?”
“Just tell him what’s in your heart.”
Kelly sighed. “I don’t think it’s very safe that way, putting my heart on the line so he can crush it later.” She glanced at the clock. “I have to go, otherwise Vincinni will string me up for being late. I love you, Cassie.”
“I love you, too, but I still think you should tell him.”
“We’ll see.” Kelly smiled sadly as she hung up, then grabbed her tote bag.
Over the next few days, Kelly worked hard, focusing only on dancing. Occasionally, she did contemplate what Cassie had said, but then pushed it aside. She buried herself in her performances in the hopes of wiping away the memory of Jacques from her heart, but as soon as she left the stage and the parties behind, she was alone with her thoughts and the nights.
* * * * *
He lowered the newspaper and walked down the hall to the stairs that led beneath the earth to his chambers. There, he made his way to the fireplace opposite his bed and rested his hands on the mantel. His dark gaze devoured the portrait that hung on the wall. Her golden hair was pulled back away from her face, and her lovely blue eyes sparkled with life.
Dominique. The name whispered through his mind like a talisman.
Burin entered and stood in the doorway, waiting for his command. He addressed his servant, his eyes never leaving Dominique’s. “Go to my home. Prepare it for her return.”
The man bowed, then turned and left the room.
Finally stepping away from the fireplace, he brushed a hand down his tuxedo sleeve and adjusted the tie at his neck. Tonight, he would begin his courtship. Tonight, he would stake his claim and damn anyone who stood in his way.
Kelly Matthews was his.
* * * * *
She slipped one satin slipper from her foot then the other, attempting to rub the ache from each foot. Had he been there, watching her? Though she’d berated herself for it, she had tried to find him in the crowded audience, had even stolen several glances at the balcony he’d occupied that first evening, but she hadn’t sensed him in the theater.
Flowers arrived for her, delivered by a stagehand, and she knew they were from him, as they’d been each night the company had performed: a dozen deep-red roses, a reminder of the blood that flowed between them, she was sure. She thanked the stagehand, then laid the roses on her vanity. Her hotel room was full of them now, the scent inviting and heady whenever she returned to it. She brought one flower to her lips and breathed deeply. She’d always loved the smell of roses, her favorite plants.
A knock sounded, and she walked across the dressing room, rose still in hand. She opened the door.
The man who stood there was tall, with broad shoulders and a sinewy build. His auburn hair was cut short, his dark brows arched over black eyes, his nose was thin and long, and he had high cheekbones. The stranger was handsome, attractive... and a vampire. The obsidian of his eyes told her that.
The rose dropped from Kelly’s hand as his power rushed over her. She stifled a gasp, and her hear
t began to pound wildly in her chest. She took a step back, shaking her head, refusing to meet his steady gaze.
“You are not invited into my room.” By the shock on his face, she knew she had taken him completely by surprise. He was probably wondering how she was aware of their existence. “I know it’s not my home, but if it keeps you out, I’ll lay claim to it as my home.”
“Pardon me, but are you all right?” She noticed that he was careful not to move and realized he could no doubt sense her sudden fear, the sound of her heart racing, and the rush of her blood through her veins.
“Are the flowers not to your liking?” He indicated the bouquet the stagehand had brought.
Kelly was shocked and disappointed to discover the blossoms she’d assumed had been from Jacques were actually from this stranger. She was even more stunned to recognize a feeling of compulsion wash over her like dark velvet as he attempted to soothe her with his voice. The pressure in her head was very gentle, subtly insisting that she remain calm, that she trust him, but it was still an intrusion, gentle or not. She squeezed her hands into fists and fought the urge to obey, sweat breaking out on her skin at the struggle. “Stop it!”
When she looked at him next, avoiding staring directly into his eyes, his face was full of disbelief and amazement. “Do you know who I am?”
“I know what you are.” She could hear his intake of breath. The situation would almost have been funny had it not terrified her. Her thoughts were scattered; what could he possibly want from her, unless it was the obvious. Her blood.
Kelly had only known three vampires: Cassie, Jacques, and Dimitri. Well, four, if she counted the men’s cruel maker, Gabriella. The thought of another one standing at her door sent terror streaking through her.
He bowed low, and she retreated a little further, ready to slam the door shut and scream for help, but when he straightened, he seemed sincere and apologetic.