by Ann Lory
Chapter Thirteen
What a fool I’ve been, Kelly thought, as she rushed around her hotel room and collected her belongings. She fought against the tears that constantly burned at the back of her eyes, refusing to cry any more. She had shed too many tears for him already; he would not have another.
Throwing the last article of clothing in her suitcase, she did a wide sweep of the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Then her gaze came to rest on the small painting beside the bed.
Picking up the picture from the nightstand, Kelly sat down on the bed and studied it. Jacques held her protectively as she stared into his face. The painter had somehow caught the love shining in their eyes.
She gripped the frame tightly. Who was she trying to kid? She would never forget Jacques, never move on. There was no one else she wanted, no one who could make her dissolve into a puddle like he did, make her burn from a simple touch.
Her fingers lovingly traced the smile on his face and along the wavy hair that framed his striking features. Frowning, Kelly slammed down the frame on the bed beside her, letting out her hurt and frustration by finally allowing the tears flow. Hurriedly she wiped at them, pissed that she was reduced to this, but knowing it would be the only way to protect her from her complete wretchedness. What did she care, anyway? He wasn’t perfect.
She looked at the picture again and tried to focus on his flaws. His nose is too big; it’s too long, and it just sticks out. Her fingers moved over the line of his nose, and she smiled. His nose was perfect.
“Argh!” Aggravated beyond adequate expression, she tossed the picture on the bed, stood, and zipped the suitcase shut. Glancing at their image once more, she stopped her movements. What was she doing?
She wasn’t going to run away. If he didn’t want her, fine, but she was going to enjoy the remainder of her vacation with him or without him. He didn’t own this city, and she still had some time before the next round of rehearsals started in San Francisco.
Who did he think he was to order her out of the country? Unzipping her suitcase, Kelly dumped everything back on the bed. She was determined to enjoy herself even if it killed her. She would prove she didn’t need Jacques Devereaux. But just in case...
Reaching for the phone, she dialed Cassie’s number, hoping her friend would have encouraging words.
* * * * *
It had been two days, but she was still here. Quintin shadowed her constantly during the day, and Jacques kept watch over her every night to ensure Mussek tried nothing. They watched her without telling her, and the entire situation was nearly driving Jacques crazy.
He sat in his study, brooding as he stared into the flames dancing bright orange and blue in the fireplace. At least Kelly was alone in her hotel room for the night, thank God. A day earlier, she’d worn practically next to nothing when she’d gone out for a night on the town; he had wanted to tear apart every male who even glanced her way.
He didn’t know how, but she’d spied him when she’d left one of the clubs she’d ventured into. He’d been in hawk form again, protected by darkness when, to his frustration and shock, she’d flipped him off! And not with just one finger, but with both hands up and middle fingers blazing. Americans!
Since it appeared that she wasn’t going home any time soon, Jacques had communicated the situation to Dimitri, including his concerns about Mussek. Although his friend had been ready to make arrangements to travel to Paris, Jacques had forbidden it.
You have a wife now; stay with her. I will call on another if it becomes necessary.
I will respect your wishes, but we should keep this information regarding Mussek and Kelly from Cassandra. She would worry herself to death and drag me to Paris whether you wish it or not.
Jacques smiled at the mental image of Dimitri’s small wife dragging him across a continent and an ocean to be at her friend’s side. But his humor quickly dissipated. He’d looked for Mussek, but the older vampire had disappeared without a trace, which made Jacques more nervous. He knew the danger Mussek presented wasn’t over by a long shot, but Jacques wasn’t sure where the man had gone to or when he would be back.
Someone banged at the main entrance. Walking quickly toward the door, he motioned to Marian, who had appeared. “I will get it. You and Quintin retire for the evening.”
She scowled at him; then, with a loud “hmph,” she turned and hurried away. Jacques watched her go, knowing it would be quite a while before she forgave him for his treatment of Kelly.
Opening the door, Jacques was not surprised to see Damian, but he was shocked to see who had accompanied him. “Christian! I didn’t realize you had risen.”
The man did not smile but extended his hand. “Jacques.”
Jacques shook the younger vampire’s hand. Dimitri had taken Christian Mason under his wing seventy-five years after Christian had been made vampire during the American Revolutionary War. Unlike Jacques and Dimitri, who had steered clear of emotional entanglements, Christian had fallen in love, only to have his lover brutally killed.
Jacques turned his attention to his dark friend, Damian Salvatorio, who stood tall and menacing in the shadows. The vampire suffered from more than his share of demons, and it made him harsh, even cruel, at times, but Jacques trusted Damian implicitly. “It is good to see you as well, Damian. It has been a long time.” Stepping back, Jacques motioned for the two men to enter. “Please come in.”
Closing the door behind him, he led them to his study, where he offered each a glass of wine. Both declined. Seating himself behind the desk, Jacques studied Christian. “What brings you here?”
Pain flickered for a brief second in the man’s black eyes. “Dimitri woke me. Since you forbade him to come, he requested I be here in his place.”
“This is not a suicide mission, Christian. And if I cannot trust you, I don’t want your help.” Jacques knew that although the man’s beloved, Carrie, had been ripped from his life almost sixty years ago, it was still painful for Christian.
Raking a hand through his blond hair, Christian glared at Jacques. “Don’t worry about me.”
Nodding, Jacques looked at Damian. “If this will put your loyalty into question, I don’t want your interference, either.”
Damian never moved from his relaxed position. “My loyalty is not to Mussek; it never has been.”
“Where is your loyalty?”
The vampire did sit up then, his black hair falling around his face and his eyes narrowing as he gazed Jacques. “It is where it has always been.”
Jacques snorted in disgust at the oblique reference to Damian’s maker, D’Angel. “That isn’t a family, Damian. D’Angel and her men are cold-blooded killers.”
Damian mouth twisted. “I protect D’Angel, and that is all.”
“I know, but for how long will you protect her? When will it be enough?”
“What is troubling you, Jacques? I am used to your lectures by now, but this is more.”
Jacques smiled sadly. “Who has been man’s greatest trouble since time immemorial?”
Christian and Damian replied in unison. “Women.”
“Yes, this involves a woman. Her name is Kelly, and Mussek is obsessed with her. He has changed greatly since Dominique’s death, and I’m afraid of what he’ll do if he is not stopped.”
Damian seemed to ponder that. “Mussek would not force his will on her, would he? The loss of Dominique took a toll on him, but I thought he’d eventually recover.”
“I am afraid Kelly’s proven adamant in refusing him, and he’s grown increasingly aggressive in his tactics.”
Christian leaned forward in his seat. “Who is Mussek?”
“Our former teacher,” Damian said. “He took in both Jacques and me after we were newly turned.”
Christian frowned. “This must be difficult for you, Jacques. I am very fond of Dimitri and grateful for all he has done for me.”
Jacques grimaced. “I could not believe it at first, but he challenged me for her.
Now that Kelly’s life depends on me, I cannot afford to feel hurt or betrayed any longer, especially after he nearly killed me.” He quickly told them about the older vampire’s attacks on Kelly at Mussek and Jacques’s homes and the notes and flowers he’d sent, as well as the brief midair challenge between the hawks and the battle at the Eiffel Tower.
“You have my help.”
“Thank you, Christian.” Jacques looked at Damian.
“And you have mine.”
“Thank you, brother.” Rising from his chair, Jacques walked around the desk and clapped the men on their backs. “Come, I will show you to your rooms.”
* * * * *
Jacques watched Damian swirl the red contents in his glass before the other man finally broke the silence.
“I grow bored of your bleak attitude over a woman, Jacques. Tell me about her so that I might understand your thoughts.”
“What do you wish me to know?”
“Why did you send her away?”
“The reason should be obvious.” Jacques answered irritably, scowling darkly at Damian, who stretched his long frame in his leather chair and casually crossed his legs.
“Enlighten me.”
Jacques suppressed an urge to strike his old friend and chose to ignore Damian’s sardonic demeanor instead. “I met her in San Francisco while helping Dimitri face Gabriella. She is Cassie’s dear friend and an exquisite prima ballerina.”
“Why did you let her go if you feel so much for her?”
Jacques sighed, leaning forward in his chair. “Because she wanted me to turn her, and I refused. I’d be robbing her.”
Damian looked at him with his cold, black eyes. “What about Dimitri’s wife? From what you have said they both seem to be doing fine.”
“The situation was different: the choice was taken from her and Dimitri. Gabriella turned Cassie against her will; Dimitri would not have allowed the change otherwise. And Dimitri had a difficult time with Cassie even before Gabriella forced her to become one of us.”
“But they have coped well, and she has accepted the dark gift. Are you worried about Kelly’s family?”
“No. Her parents were killed when she was a teenager.”
Damian shifted in the chair, his hands cupping the bottom of his glass. “Allow me to repeat this back to you as I understand it... she has no family except for Dimitri’s wife, who is herself starting a new life as vampire with her new husband.”
“Yes.”
“And she wants to be with you, who also has no one. But you have sent her away.”
Exasperated, Jacques snapped. “It is not that simple, and you know it.”
“It sounds perfectly logical to me.”
Jacques examined the other man. As usual, there was no emotion in his eyes or feeling on his face. Damian, always bitter and distant.
Damian read Jacques’s look correctly. “I may be cold and I may lack heart, but I do see things very clearly.” He set his glass on the coffee table between them. “Dawn is almost upon us.” Without a farewell, Damian left his chair and strode from the room, leaving Jacques to the turmoil of his thoughts.
Should he make Kelly a vampire? Could he put her through the pain of dying, only to be reborn again into the night? Could she really live this way of life with him and still be happy?
He sighed; then, following Damian’s example, Jacques made his way to his chambers.
He did love her, loved her more than he had anything or anyone in his life, and she wanted him. Despite knowing his secrets, she truly loved him and had proven it, more than once.
Damian was right; he was being a fool. Jacques only hoped he hadn’t realized it too late.
Chapter Fourteen
Kelly tied the shimmering, deep blue top at her neck and lower back. The sparkling material clung to her breasts, barely covering her stomach and none of her back. Her skirt was equally lovely, glittering in the soft light as she moved, hugging her hips like a second skin, with two small slits on each side that came to well above her knees.
Her silky golden hair fell long and loose down her spine. She smiled at herself in the mirror after applying the last touch of soft pink lipstick to her lips, but studiously ignored the fact her smiles never reached her eyes anymore.
There was a soft knock on the door. Pushing aside the way her body suddenly tensed, she prepared to greet Garin, a nice man she had met the day before while out shopping. Garin had offered to take her out dancing this evening. No matter what, she was going to start a new life and leave Jacques behind. And enjoy herself thoroughly while she was at it.
Plastering a smile on her face, Kelly swung the door open. Her welcome faltered as she stared up into familiar, dark, swirling pools, the look in those eyes matching how she felt inside.
Jacques. Here for some reason and still incredibly handsome, dressed as he was in impeccable black. His brown hair fell in its usual gentle waves, his long, bold nose ‑‑ she couldn’t help but smile; yes, she loved his nose ‑‑ flared ever so slightly, and his sensuous lips curved up as he stared at her. She suddenly realized he was returning her ridiculous grin.
Jacques had to force himself to breathe when he saw the wonderful vision Kelly made as she stood before him. Her overall image screamed beautiful and sexy. The outfit she wore left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and he had to fight the urge to rip the skimpy clothing from her body and claim her here and now.
He was amazed when he saw the slow smile spread across her face as she inspected him. Maybe he did have a chance of putting the pieces between them back together. But then he watched in disappointment as her smile vanished and her eyes narrowed.
“What are you doing here, Jacques?”
He grimaced at the way she said the words. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Crossing her arms, she planted herself firmly at the door as if to block him from entering. “We have nothing to talk about.”
“Kelly, please allow me to explain.” He reached for her, but she put a staying hand up, and he dropped his arms.
“No. You already explained everything to me in great detail that night.”
“Mon ange, please--”
She cut him off, shaking her head, her blond tresses spilling around her face and shoulders. “Don’t call me that! Please, just go away.”
At that moment the elevator’s doors opened and a man with dark hair and green eyes stepped into the hall. Jacques watched him approach, scowling as the stranger halted next to him at Kelly’s door.
Realizing the man was the reason Kelly was dressed to the nines, he glared down at the mortal, who was a couple inches shorter than him. Kelly smiled at the other man, motioning for Jacques to step aside.
Jacques wanted to grab her and make her listen to his pleas, but he moved. The man shot a glance at him. Jacques couldn’t help himself; he gave the stranger a gleaming, predatory smile. The man visibly shivered and looked away. Kelly shot him an angry glance, but Jacques did nothing to hide his satisfaction from her.
“Hello, Garin.” Her words were sugary sweet. Jacques’s grin turned into a glower.
Garin couldn’t seem to take his eyes from Kelly, and Jacques found he wanted to help the man with that problem... by removing them from his head.
“Vous êtes ravissante, Kelly.”
“Milles mercis, Garin. Allons-y.”
Garin again looked uneasily at Jacques, but Kelly merely waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh,” she continued in French. “Don’t worry about him, he was just leaving.” She looked pointedly at Jacques.
Galled though he was, Jacques gave her his most winning smile. “Thank you for your time.” He then stalked down the hall away from them, inwardly seething with jealousy. As the doors to the elevator closed, he gave a Kelly a last devilish grin and lingering stare. He saw her blushing cheeks and anxious expression. This wasn’t over yet.
* * * * *
The music blared, and there was a crush of bodies all around them as she and Garin danced. Sweat
trickled between her breasts, and Kelly knew the rest of her body was probably gleaming just like everyone else’s under the flashing lights.
She tried again to step away from Garin’s touch; unfortunately, the press of people made that difficult, and her actions had not gone unnoticed by him. She thought he might be a little upset.
How did one explain? You see, I’m in love with this seven-hundred-something-year-old vampire and there are... complications. She laughed to herself as she tried to imagine the look on Garin’s face were she to tell him such a thing.
Sighing as another song started, she signaled him and made her way from the dance floor toward the bar. A bottle of water sounded very good about now. Her date followed, requested her drink, and paid for it. She smiled her thanks at him, and he returned her grin, standing close to her, his arm snaking around her waist. She had to fight the urge to pull away.
There was no point in trying to make conversation as there were simply too many people and the music filled the club. Slowly sipping her drink, she watched as others danced. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she missed Jacques and wanted him to convince her to go back to him. Earlier, she had ached badly to throw herself into his arms and hear what he had to say ‑‑ as long as it was his promise to love her always and to never send her away again. But she had forgiven him once already, and look where that had gotten her.
Kelly looked at Garin; he grinned widely, and his fingers glided along her bare back. Suppressing a frown, she looked back at the dancers. Yes, look at where it’s gotten me.
Swallowing some more of her water, Kelly watched a group of people walk down the stairs against the far wall that led them from the entrance to the dance floor. A few seconds passed, and the door opened again. Her heart stopped.
Jacques’s eyes appeared to scan the room quickly; then their dark, smoldering depths settled on her. He grinned sensually, and shivers raced up her spine. She continued to stare as he then seemed to focus on the DJ, who suddenly stopped the current fast-paced song. The club-goers looked around in confusion; then the lights dimmed even more and an American song came on. The strum of a guitar ripped through the room, the aching sound filling her with its plea.