by Jenna Barwin
“No, Rolf. Until she is mine, I have no authority to challenge him over this.”
“Then he makes you look like the fool you are.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I suggest we change the topic. I would not want to strain our friendship any further over this.”
“Fine,” Rolf spat out.
Henry scrubbed a hand across his face. This is my fault. If I had called Leopold a week ago, the matter would be resolved by now. Yacov’s confidence in him, his friend’s belief he’d changed, was the only thing stopping him from breaking off a chair leg and driving it through Zeke’s heart.
“Henry?” He turned at the sultry voice. Blanche stood behind him, wearing a slinky beaded gown, her eyes darkly accented with glittery bronze makeup, her eyebrows drawn on in thin lines. “Since Cerissa went off with Zeke, would ya like to dance with me?”
“No thank you.”
Her fingers trailed down the sleeve of his tuxedo coat. “Come on. Let’s have ourselves a little fun. Make your girlfriend jealous.”
The idea had momentary appeal. It would teach Cerissa a lesson. She should never have accepted Zeke’s invitation. But Yacov wouldn’t approve. “You are kind to offer,” he finally said. “But I must decline.”
“I still hope you’re considering my proposal.”
“You’ll have my answer tomorrow.”
She brushed his cheek with a French manicured fingernail. “Only if the answer is yes.”
* * *
Cerissa refused to make eye contact with Zeke. He said nothing while they danced, but by the rough way he turned her, he was angry. That was fine with her. She was pretty pissed off too.
She sensed something strange against her back. When they went through another turn, she saw his wrist was bandaged with some kind of brace. Vampires usually healed during their daytime sleep—if he had it wrapped, he must have broken a bone, which could take a few days to heal. Something looked wrong with his nose, too, but she didn’t try to figure it out.
Zeke brought her close to his chest for a moment. She immediately stepped back, fighting against his grip, regretting her decision to accept the dance. But she had to…didn’t she?
A quick glance at Henry and Rolf told her she’d made the wrong choice. Damn. Whatever the consequences, I should’ve told Zeke to get lost. Without a rule or order to guide her, she never did the right thing.
Then she saw Blanche walk up to Henry, touching his face in an all-too-intimate way. She wanted to pluck each of those fake fingernails off Blanche’s hand. Irritated with herself, she couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Why did you ask me to dance?” she asked Zeke.
“Because it should be me sitting next to you, not Henry.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“You said you were here on business. Were you lying to me?”
“I didn’t plan on falling for Henry, it just happened,” she said, looking away. “I never meant to hurt you.”
He pushed her through another turn. When she was near him again, he said, “You can’t love Henry. Not him. Not if you value your own skin.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re bitter.”
“Ya don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, missy. That Henry, he’s a hard case.”
She furrowed her brow, puzzled by the term.
“I mean, he’s a violent man. You’d be safer with me as your mate than him.”
“Zeke—”
“I’m giving you the real deal. I was there. I saw what he’s capable of.”
“Enough. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
When the song ended, she abruptly walked away, leaving Zeke standing on the dance floor. That should send a message. His comments about Henry were the words of a hurt and jealous man. She hurried past the first few tables, and the partygoers stared as she marched by. If some residents don’t like my presence here, what must they think now?
All she wanted to do was return to Henry’s side. She hadn’t expected the reception she got when she did. Antarctica would have been warmer. She turned off her lenses with a few blinks, grabbed her wineglass, and suggested they step outside for some air. She needed privacy for this discussion.
The area surrounding the country club was one large cultivated garden, featuring night-blooming flowers, the scent of jasmine perfuming the night air. One path led to an outdoor amphitheater.
She walked along the path, Henry following her in silence. She selected an isolated park bench, sat down, and placed her wineglass on the ground. Henry stood in front of her, his expression still frozen. She took his hand and pulled him down to sit next to her. The look on his face threatened to shut her out.
“Zeke did that to make us miserable,” she said. “It looks like he succeeded.”
“Why did you accept?”
“I didn’t know whether I was even allowed to say no. You nodded, so I accepted.”
“Had I suggested you decline, he would have challenged me, a duel to the death.”
She stared at him, aghast. “A duel? You must be joking.”
“I am not. He attacked me last night; we fought.” He rubbed his side.
“Are you all right?”
He dropped his hand to his lap. “I’m fine.”
“Why did Zeke attack you?”
He shrugged. “Because of you. He thought I trespassed on his property.”
“I’m no one’s property.”
“You told him you were mine. He asked you to dance to test whether it was true. To see how I would react.”
Her eyes widened as the chain of events fell into place. She’d refused Zeke’s gift, and Zeke had taken it out on Henry. Leopold had warned her—vampires could be territorial. How had she failed to anticipate Zeke’s reaction? She should have warned Henry after Zeke left.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
* * *
He couldn’t look at her. Not with jealousy still seething through him and the risk of violence so close to the surface of his skin. He clasped his hands tightly together, keeping his eyes focused on the ground between his feet. Pushing her away was the last thing he wanted, but he had to know the truth.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” he said. “Why did you accept?”
“I told you—because it seemed like what I should do.”
“It was not because you wanted to dance with him?”
“Are you joking? I resented his request.”
“Then who were you looking for?” He’d seen her looking around the room before Zeke walked up. Was she looking for him? He couldn’t get the possibility out of his head.
“I wasn’t looking for anyone in particular.”
“Then why?”
“You were talking business and I was slightly bored by it.” She reached over and took his chin in her hand, turning his face. “Not once did I think of Zeke,” she added.
He pulled his chin from her grasp and looked down at his hands again. “Cerissa, this is an unusual situation. I am sorry if I’ve offended you. I didn’t understand why you accepted. It’s so far outside my experience I could only think of one reason.”
Her hand wrapped around his. “Perhaps you need to trust me.”
“I do trust you,” he said, raising her hand to his lips. He’d trusted Sarah too, and then Nathaniel lured her away…
“Henry, what is it?”
Trust. If he trusted her, he had to tell her the truth, before she heard it from Zeke or someone else. He sighed and returned her hand to her lap. If she was going to reject him for it, better now than later—it would likely destroy her trust in him, but she needed to hear it from him.
He turned to face her. “Not many people on the Hill know this, but in 1889, I killed Zeke’s maker in a duel over a woman. Zeke thought I deserved the same for stealing you from him.”
* * *
A moment of dizziness engulfed her. So that was what Zeke was alluding to on the dance
floor.
She didn’t like it, but did it change anything?
Cerissa took a breath. It had happened a long time ago, in a century operating under different rules. And even though Zeke attacked Henry, he hadn’t killed Zeke.
“You’re both alive,” she finally said.
“I—I value your opinion too much to revert to the old ways. I sent Zeke on his way with a broken wrist and a bloody nose.”
Why did that make her feel better? “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Cerissa, if, knowing about my past, you don’t want to be with me, I’ll take you back to Gaea’s.”
He’d been honest with her and he hadn’t killed Zeke. She didn’t know what she would have done if he’d killed Zeke in a fight over her. We’ll just keep this a tight little secret from the Protectors. They weren’t as forgiving of those who killed. With her lenses turned off, even Ari would never know. She softly touched Henry’s forehead with her fingers.
“It’s not for me to judge you,” she said.
His brow remained wrinkled, small stress lines around his eyes. Doesn’t he believe me? Or is there something more? With his confession, the weight should have lifted from his shoulders. Why did he still look so worried?
He stood up and drew her into his arms, the tension around his eyes finally easing. He leaned toward her to offer a kiss. Instead of accepting the kiss, she nestled her head on his shoulder. There was one more thing they needed to settle. “What did Blanche want?” she asked.
“Business. She wants me to invest in her idea for a winery.”
“Really? Then why did she have her hands all over you? You said you didn’t have any other girlfriends.”
He stepped back to look at her, furrowing his brow. “Are you jealous?”
She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Of course she was jealous. The way Blanche touched him…
“Do I have any reason to be jealous?” she asked.
“Of course not. Women like Blanche, they didn’t have much power in the era they were born. They learned to use their sexuality to get what they needed. I don’t blame her for it—she’s a product of her times.”
She kept her eyes averted. “You’re awfully understanding.”
“You do sound jealous.”
“She’s been nothing but mean to me. I don’t want you going into business with her.”
“Have no fear of that,” he said. She glanced up at him, and a slight grin formed on his face before he continued. “Tell me, how is her behavior any different from your attempt to seduce me?”
He wasn’t fighting fair. She pushed away from him and turned, giving him her back. “It wasn’t my idea to seduce you. Blame that one on Ari.”
His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her back until her shoulders were pressed against his firm chest. His lips gently touched her neck, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. She softened against him, and he turned her around to face him again.
“I’m glad you did seduce me,” he said softly. The distant music from the band filled the silence. “May I have this dance?”
With his arms around her, she swayed to the music, her cheek resting against his shoulder again, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Should they leave now and go to his place? No, she needed to make one more appearance at the dance. She didn’t want to give the rumor mill any false hope. After the song ended, she took his hand and walked by his side back to the country club. They were almost at the table when she stopped him and started to turn around. “I left my wineglass in the garden.”
He caught her before she could leave. “No matter. Let me get you another.”
He continued to escort her back to the table. Once she was seated, he bent over to kiss her. She smiled to herself. Now why didn’t it bother her one bit when he acted possessive? The implication wasn’t lost on Rolf, either—the look of shock on his face was worth it. He got up to follow Henry.
As soon as Henry and Rolf were gone, Karen scooted her chair closer to Cerissa and asked, “Is everything all right?”
“It is now. Much ado about nothing.”
“Isn’t that the truth? Rolf has been ranting and raving about the Covenant this, the Covenant that.” Karen smiled a big grin, making the corners of her eyes crinkle. “You’re shaking things up. It’s good for them.”
“I don’t mean to. I guess I’m so outside their norm, their rules don’t cover me.”
Karen leaned in close and whispered, “They’re so afraid of their vampire nature that they don’t trust themselves to behave without a rule to cover every situation.”
Funny, the same could be said for her. Was it just a matter of trial and error, discovering how to live without the Protectors’ constant supervision? Maybe mistakes were to be expected. Just like in the lab—postulate a theory and experiment to find the answer.
“Hello…Cerissa,” Karen said, waving her hand in front of her.
“Sorry, I zoned out. Everything’s okay between Henry and me now.”
“Are you going home with him tonight?”
“Karen!” Cerissa felt a warm flush of embarrassment.
“I’m assuming he’s asked you already. If he hasn’t, he’s a fool.”
“No offense, but that’s between him and me.”
“No worries,” Karen said, and polished off her drink. “But I want to hear all about it when you do.”
Henry returned with wine for Cerissa, and Rolf followed with another glass. Karen accepted it, and then leaned toward him, flashing a fair amount of cleavage in the process. “Rolf,” Karen said seductively, “aren’t you going to ask me to dance?”
Rolf’s eyes brightened as they traveled from Karen’s breasts to her face, a slight leer forming. “Of course, Fraulein,” he said, gently bringing her hand to his cheek and kissing her palm. “Would you do me the honor?”
Karen took his offered arm. Once on the dance floor, Karen winked at her over Rolf’s shoulder.
“So what were you two talking about?” Henry asked.
“That there has been entirely too much talking and not enough dancing.”
“Then allow me to remedy the problem,” Henry said, standing.
A slow love ballad played. They moved together like one being. She enjoyed having his arm around her waist, feeling him turn her this way and then that. He didn’t say anything, but she caught him watching her intently when he led her through a turn. She flowed up against him, her breasts brushing against his chest.
Was she really ready for this? Her body teeter-tottered between shimmering excitement and pit-of-the-stomach fear. He pressed her closer, until her hips moved against his in beat to the music, and the shimmering excitement won out.
His eyes locked on hers and turned solid black before he whirled her through a breathtaking spin. Centered in his arms again, the answer seemed clear. She wanted to possess and be possessed by him. She raised her lips to his ear.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You are sure?”
“If the invitation is still open….”
“It is.”
“Then yes, Henry, I’m sure.”
Chapter 47
Cerissa waited while Henry opened the doors to his drawing room. The familiar river-stone fireplace, white plaster walls, solid wood, and leather furniture—it felt like home. She took the seat he offered—a large leather chair identical to his—and laid her fingers in the grooves created by the claw-shaped arm rest to still them. Her palms had started sweating, her hands shaking, as soon as she stepped into the room.
What if he doesn’t like me in bed? What do I do then?
She glanced up at him. He looked so good—she wanted to feel his hands on her, take him into her, taste him.
Then why am I so nervous? Because for the first time this matters to me?
He smiled gently at her. “Would you like some wine?” he asked.
“That would be nice, thank you.” A bottle had been left open to breathe on the sidebar. He poured and handed he
r the glass. She used both hands to take it so he wouldn’t see them tremble and took a sip. “This is the same vintage you gave me the night we toured the winery,” she said.
“Very good. I wondered if you would recognize it.” Then his expression grew serious. He knelt in front of her and kissed her softly. Her pulse raced and her heart pounded like a lopsided centrifuge.
He sat back on his heels. He seemed to be searching for something, the way he looked into her eyes.
“Are you nervous?” he asked.
“Is it that obvious?” She looked down into the wineglass. Hell, he can probably smell it on me. She took a deep, calming breath and raised her head to look into his eyes.
He brushed her face with his fingers. “If I told you there was no reason to be nervous, it wouldn’t make a difference, would it?”
She gave him a small smile. “Probably not. I want to be with you, but….”
“If you prefer, we can just sit and talk. You can enjoy your wine and then I can take you back to Gaea’s. You do not have to do anything you aren’t ready to do.”
“I’m ready, it’s just, well…” She took a sip of her wine.
“Hmm,” he said. “It’s a warm night. Let’s go outside and walk. Come,” he said, standing and holding out his hand. “Bring your glass.” She followed him out the French doors, which led to the pool patio. “I have been enjoying the spring nights to stargaze. My telescope is set up in the gazebo. Would you like to see?”
“Sure.”
At the edge of the gazebo, he had a high-quality telescope pointed at the night sky. He took off his tuxedo jacket, laid it across one of the lounge chairs, and leaned over to look through the eyepiece, adjusting the scope. “I have it aimed at Mars right now,” he said, offering the scope to her.
She placed her wineglass on the nearby table and gazed through the scope. The red planet came into view. When his cell phone trilled, she glanced over at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking it from his pocket to look at the caller ID.
“You’re expecting a call?”
He slid his finger across the screen, sending it to voicemail. “Business does not stop just because I have a date with a beautiful woman.”
Leaning back over the telescope, she peered through its eyepiece again. A vast, flat area dominated the view, the reddish-orange mass resembling Asia. He gently touched her back, running his fingers enticingly down her spine to its base. If his fingers feel this good, what will it be like having him inside me? She took a deep breath. If she kept thinking about it, she would never do it.