by Ann Lory
Having assured himself of her safety, Jacques set out to hunt. He flew through the night, rearing back as he felt the presence of Mussek. A large, auburn-winged hawk screeched from above, barely missing Jacques’s eye with extended talons. Jacques returned the cry with one of his own, glaring at the great predator. Both hawks issued threats, until Mussek gave a final call, then streaked away.
Jacques watched him go. It saddened and angered him that his former teacher was completely lost to him now. At one time Mussek had been a proud and noble friend, a man whom he’d held dear, but Jacques feared the loss of Dominique had sent Mussek over the edge of sanity. Never having met the dancer who’d stolen his old friend’s heart, Jacques had thought Mussek’s grief incomprehensible. But now... now that Jacques had Kelly, he could almost understand.
However, if it meant Kelly’s safety, he would not hesitate to kill Mussek.
Chapter Eight
Kelly could hardly contain her excitement at spending an evening with Jacques, especially since the rehearsal had gone well. She looked at her cell phone; it was close to eight. She dropped it into her bag and glared across the stage at Vincinni. She felt like screaming at him. Wrap it up!
Then he did, just like that. Grabbing her tote without waiting to say good-bye to the others, she flung it over her shoulder and made her way toward the front of the building and out the door, where she stopped short, beaming.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to meet me at the hotel later.”
Jacques straightened up from where he leaned on his motorcycle and grinned. “The sun set early, and I couldn’t wait to see you.” He handed her a helmet. “Here, put this on, and we’ll go.”
Kelly looked down at her leotard, sheer skirt, and tennis shoes. “Like this? Jacques, I look awful.”
He walked toward her, incredibly yummy in his tight-fitting black pants and a deep red silk shirt. “You look radiant,” he said in a low, husky voice.
Her heart did a funny flip in her chest as she took the helmet from him and put it on. Climbing on the motorcycle behind him, she let out a squeal when he took off down the street, her arms wound tightly around his waist.
* * * * *
Kelly almost skipped all the way to Le Louvre. “This is amazing,” she exclaimed. They stopped to look at the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel that Napoleon Bonaparte had had built. Kelly took in the engravings cut into the stone and the chariot and horses that sat atop one of Paris’s stone masterpieces. “Did you know Napoleon?”
His lips quirked in a smile, and he leaned forward, whispering against her ear. “Yes, he was an arrogant little man. I did not particularly care for him.”
Kelly covered her mouth, laughing at his words. Although he said them in a teasing fashion, she knew he spoke the truth.
As they wandered around the courtyard, several people milled around in front of a lighted, glass pyramid as they stepped onto the paved courtyard. The museum’s U-shaped building sat behind the pyramid, its three-story yellow walls and dark-gray, arched roof protecting treasures hundreds, even thousands, of years old.
“Come, I want to show you the art inside.”
Confused, she put a staying hand on his arm. “But, Jacques, the museum is closed.”
He gave an amused smile. “Not for me.”
He led her toward the entrance and the door opened, a security guard smiling broadly at them. “Monsieur Devereaux, mademoiselle, bienvenue.” Jacques nodded to the man.
Kelly looked at the stairs that led below ground to the museum. She was so excited she could hardly contain herself.
“Are you ready?”
Kelly looped her arm through Jacques’s, and he escorted her down the steps, past the closed admission desks and into the underground lobby. Walking up a set of carpeted steps, they finally entered the main rooms of the museum.
Kelly gaped in wonder as she examined the portraits hanging on the walls around her. As soon as they entered the area that housed Leonardo Da Vinci’s renowned portrait, she immediately rushed over to the painting of the Mona Lisa. The famous woman smiled at Kelly through the surrounding glass that protected her. Whether Kelly stood to the sides of the portrait or before it, the woman’s eyes never left hers.
It was a calming picture, and Kelly returned the woman’s smile, cocking her head as they seemed to study each other. She didn’t care whether or not there was a code in Da Vinci’s art. She just liked looking at all of it.
Grabbing Jacques’s hand in hers, Kelly was like a little girl as she raced through the museum, trying to take everything in at once. Jacques couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She was a treasure herself, and he was happy to watch the way she scrutinized each piece, stepping away from it, then walking up to it. The way she would tilt her head, blond hair sliding from the neat coil on her head. Who knew all that hair could be condensed down into a little knot? And the way she looked at each piece with such awe in her eyes ‑‑ it made him feel alive to be able to experience this with her, to show her something she enjoyed, and to have another precious memory of her.
They went from room to room, and he answered all of her endless questions. “What about this, Jacques? Do you remember when the artist did this one?”
Jacques frowned ferociously. “Good God, woman, I’m not that old.”
She laughed, holding her sides; then, finally, she shook her head at him, kissed his cheek, and went on. The night seemed almost to last forever as they lost themselves in the history of each painting, each sculpture, each object. Yet it still ended too soon.
Outside once more, they stood by a fountain and stared at the pyramid.
“What did you think, Kelly? Did you enjoy Le Louvre?” Jacques asked quietly.
“I thought it was breathtaking. I’d love to come back to see the rest of it. There’s just so much.”
“I am glad. Stick with me, mon ange, and I’ll bring you as often as need be for you to see every detail.”
She turned and looked at him, her eyes enormous. His heart jerked in his chest. Her beauty and soul were so pure that he wanted desperately to reach out and touch her. But if he did, he was afraid he would take her at that very place and moment. How he wanted to possess her in the way a man does a woman, bring her pleasure, and then drink again of her essence.
Her blood hummed through her veins, the scent of it calling to him. He wanted her life to fill him as it had before. Shoving his hands into his pockets, his voice was brusque ‑‑ tight and strained like his body.
“I will take you back to the hotel. Tomorrow night, I will come for you again.”
Kelly frowned, but nodded at him, and they left.
* * * * *
Kelly rushed off the stage even as thunderous applause still filled the theater. She was eager to change so that she and Jacques could go to the final performance party; then, afterward, she would have her time alone with Jacques.
She kissed Chris on the cheek when the two of them reached her dressing room. “Paris has been a wonderful experience, and I’ll miss you, but I’ll be back with the Company in a few weeks. I promise.”
He pulled her into his arms and gave her a tight squeeze. “You be careful. Don’t let this Jacques guy break your heart.”
She smiled at him. “I’ll put a stake in his chest if he does.” Chris laughed, the real joke lost on him, and let her go. She stepped into the room and shut the door.
“Stake me?”
She almost screamed, practically leaping out of her skin, when she turned and spied Jacques reclining on the couch, arms crossed and staring at her, an amused smile tugging at his lips. Her hand pressed hard over her heart. “You creep! You scared me half to death!”
“I’m sorry.” He grinned devilishly and rose, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his words. “Have you been talking about me behind my back?”
She held up her index finger and thumb, showing the merest space between the two digits. “I might have talked about you... just a little b
it.”
He laughed, then reached for her. “You looked delicious onstage; I couldn’t wait to get back here and do this.”
Kelly shoved at him half-heartedly, but he caught her arms. She sighed when his lips claimed hers, grinning at him as they came up for air. Then she squeaked, delighted when he lifted her easily against the wall. His lips devoured hers again, and she wrapped her legs around him, her hands working greedily at the buttons on his shirt.
This wasn’t how she had imagined their first time would be, but she didn’t mind being taken against a wall, her ruffled ballet skirt pushed up around her waist. She cried out again when his lips moved from hers over her neck and lower still, to her waiting breasts under her costume. She arched into him, gazing down on his dark head through hazy eyes.
He impatiently jerked the flimsy blouse from her shoulders, revealing her flushed mounds to his view. He stopped for a moment as if to admire them, then brought one hard nipple into his mouth.
Kelly flung her head back, thudding against the wall, and her hands came up to cup the back of his head. She panted, moaning with every tug of his lips and lave of his hot tongue.
The door to her dressing room abruptly burst open. Jacques immediately set her down, shielding her body. He straightened her top and skirt before turning to face whoever had interrupted them.
Kelly cleared her throat and noticed the way Jacques was glaring at poor Chris, who actually blushed.
“I’m sorry, Kelly. I should have knocked.”
“Yes, you should have, but you’re like a nosy brother that way. What are you doing back again?” She laughed, then shoved at Jacques. “Stop it, you be nice to him. He’s a dear friend.”
Chris glanced at Kelly, then at Jacques. “Don’t break her heart, Devereaux, or she’s threatened to stake you.” He winked at Kelly, then handed a large bouquet to her. “These arrived for you. Take care. I’ll see you in San Francisco.” He kissed her cheek and left.
Jacques inclined his head toward the bouquet. “Another admirer for the prima ballerina?”
Kelly grinned cheekily and opened the card, her heart slamming into her chest as she examined its contents.
Jacques went rigid. “What’s wrong? Who is it from?”
Kelly read the note aloud. “‘You are angry, but nothing can keep us apart. Mussek.’” She shivered, handing the card over to him. “At first the flowers came with apologies, but now their tone is changing, becoming more possessive. He simply won’t take no for an answer. I told Vincinni about Mussek, but there’s no way to prevent him from purchasing tickets and coming to the theater. Mussek could easily use a go-between, not to mention his Jedi mind tricks.”
Jacques frowned and crumpled the card in his hand. “You mean he’s obsessive. This isn’t good, Kelly. I thought maybe, hopefully, Mussek would let you go, but I believe he means to pursue you.”
Kelly tossed the flowers aside. “I don’t care what he thinks. The answer is still no, and he’s just going to have to accept it and move on.” She sighed, then took her party dress off its hanger. “I need to change for our date.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t go out this evening. We--”
Kelly cut him off. “No! This is my vacation, my time with you, and I refuse to let him ruin it.”
Jacques looked hard at her. “Stay close to me. I don’t think he’ll do anything, but at the same time... He has changed so much from what he once was.”
“How? Why?”
He sighed. “It happened a long time ago. He was in love with a woman, Dominique, a dancer like you, but she died in an accident. I never met her, but ever since her death he hasn’t been right, as if something snapped in his brain. He became angry and aggressive, discarded his honor. Those of us who were his friends became concerned; we tried to help him, but finally we had to leave him. Indeed, he forced us away.” Jacques paused. “I warned him a hundred and fifty years ago that if he stepped out of line, I would not hesitate to deal with him. It’s me he’s angry with, but you are in terrible danger as well. Although you are a dancer, just as Dominique was, and beautiful, I don’t understand this focus with you.” He ran a hand over his face. “I must end this. I want you safe.”
Kelly squeezed his hand. “That’s very sad about Mussek, but he must know he can’t act this way. It’s wrong; no matter what happens in someone’s life, they still have a responsibility to do the right thing.” She sighed and kissed Jacques. “You’ll protect me. I have no doubt of that. Now I must hurry up. We’ll go to the party; then we’ll have the rest of the night to do whatever you have planned for me.”
She laughed at his arched eyebrow and moved behind the dressing partition.
* * * * *
“Look at the men, Jacques. It’s as if the angels are leading them into battle.” Kelly and Jacques stood before the Arc de Triomphe. It was a breathtaking monument. Men in robes and armor stood against the Arc beneath what appeared to be an angel. Horses and men dressed for war stood above, other figures blowing their horns.
The Eternal Flame there burned for all fallen soldiers; it glowed brightly on its pillar, and water cascaded below the flame to a large dark bowl that was even lower. The sight almost brought tears to her eyes.
She felt Jacques’s fingers slip through hers, and she squeezed his hand, comforted by his simple action. “I love history, and this tells so much.”
“I know,” he whispered.
He drew her away from the monument, and walked with her down the Champs-Elysées, the street that led toward the Place de la Concorde. Kelly was pleased when the fountain came into view, and Jacques motioned for her to sit on its ledge. She watched him go to a man who was painting on a small canvas.
While Jacques conversed with the artist, she looked at the stone gods garbed in robes who stood underneath the large, bottom bowl of the fountain. Water fell all around, shimmering in the light as it spilled over the gray stone. Sighing contentedly, Kelly turned back to where Jacques had been and yelped in surprise when he swept her into his arms, settling her on his lap.
She laughed, her arms naturally going around his neck. “What are you doing?”
“He is going to paint our portrait. As he already has most of the fountain done, he will only need to add us into the picture.” Looking over at the man who was resetting his paints near them, Kelly grinned with excitement.
“If you would hold your pose for a bit,” the man said in French. Jacques leaned his head against Kelly’s, and she pressed her body close to his, her arms squeezing him tightly.
Kelly felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach; liquid heat seemed to spiral through her, tingling through every limb. Her heart raced at the feel of his arms around her waist, hugging her to his hard length.
He was solid beneath her, all masculine strength. Her fingers itched to touch his hair as the dark locks brushed the side of her face, and she breathed deeply, bringing her that much closer to this man. Giving into the urge, out of the painter’s view, she lifted her hands and glided them under his hair, twining into the chocolate waves that were soft as silk. She heard him groan as he gripped her harder. Her smile grew wider.
You are only asking for trouble if you continue doing that.
She twitched in surprise at his teasing words in her mind, and he had to catch her to keep her from falling from his lap. She could immediately feel his concern and sadness at her reaction.
“I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you,” he whispered in her ear.
Studying him from the corner of her eye, she caressed the back of his head. No, Jacques, I’m sorry. I’m just not used to you speaking to me that way, and I was only startled. It takes some getting used to, is all.
She glanced at him and he appeared pleased that she had chosen to speak to him mentally.
If I had my mandolin here I would play a song just for you.
Stunned, Kelly asked, You can play the mandolin?
I have mastered almost every instrument.
That is incredib
le! How did you accomplish that?
You can learn and do much in seven hundred years.
Kelly could hardly believe she was carrying a conversation this way. It seemed so unreal.
Believe it.
Sucking in a breath, she gave in to the urge to giggle. The painter gave them a quizzical look. Stop reading my thoughts like that. But the severity of her reprimand was lost in her laughter. Although I’m sure I would delve into your thoughts if I could.
You can; you have only to try.
Grinning, she ran a finger down the length of his neck. So, tell me more about your musical ability. Will you play for me some time?
After I became vampire, I found that I enjoyed music even more thoroughly. Playing. Singing. It comforted and soothed me during dark years. I would be honored to entertain you.
I can’t wait! She hugged him.
You take my breath away.
She stared at his face; the desire radiating from his dark eyes was almost overwhelming. She clutched his shirt and slowly lowered her lips toward his ...
“I am finished,” the painter announced proudly.
Kelly and Jacques jerked. He placed her on her feet and rose as the man approached, handling the painting carefully. The artist smiled hugely when Jacques handed him several bills in exchange for the picture, which Jacques passed to Kelly, then hurried away to pack up his belongings.
Touched beyond words at the artwork in her hands, Kelly’s heart melted. The two of them together seemed perfect in the image, complementing each other in every way, as if they were meant to be one.
“Do you like it, mon ange?” His deep voice glided over her skin, and she shivered in delight.