Despite her efforts to control them, images from the other night kept appearing in her head. She and Trace had made love several times. At first, she’d been fully clothed with only her panties gone. He’d paused only long enough to drop his trousers before he was on top of her. The whole experience had been deliciously naughty. But instead of leaving afterward, as she half expected him to do, he’d undressed her and made love to her again.
This time, with her on top.
Had she really told him she didn’t think he’d fit? She tried not to smile at how silly that sounded now. Chewing at her lip, she walked around to the far side of the desk. Every man must dream of a woman saying that to him. Although she’d have to imagine she probably wasn’t the first woman to say it to Trace. He hadn’t acted all that surprised, just pleased.
Goose bumps sprang up on her arms at the memory of him. He’d been slow and surprisingly gentle at first. One thing she was sure of: it was a night she wouldn’t soon forget.
“So how do you envision decorating this room?” he asked.
She gathered her wits about her, took a deep breath, and turned to face him. With his arms crossed, he’d been watching her, a dark expression on his face. Anger? Irritation? Boredom? He seemed so emotionally closed off now, like he’d suddenly erected a wall between them. What was going on with him? She could’ve sworn he’d been warming up to her. Or maybe it was just her wishful imagination. She stifled her disappointment and had to remind herself that a relationship with a client wasn’t a good idea anyway.
“Given that your event is right around the corner, there won’t be time to place any orders,” she said to Trace as she chewed on her pencil. “I’ll have to make do with what we have. Where do you keep your holiday decorations?”
“We’ve got a storage room downstairs, but I’m not sure what’s in it.”
“A storage room?” She shivered. Normally, she enjoyed taking inventory of what a client had that she could use, but for some reason, the mention of a downstairs storage room gave her chills.
As if sensing her discomfort, he added, “I’ll have one of the staff bring all the holiday boxes upstairs.”
She relaxed and opened up her planner. “Perfect. I’ll go through the boxes when I come back tomorrow and make a list of things we need. Don’t worry. I’m very resourceful. Then the following day, I’ll hit a few places in town before the Xtark Software holiday party, and if I can’t find what we need, I’ll—”
His head jerked up, his eyebrows two dark slashes above his eyes. “Xtark Software?”
“Yeah. I didn’t handle their party—they’d already had it contracted—but they did invite me.”
“And who are you going with? Do you have a date?”
The strain in his voice pleased her for some reason. Was it a tinge of jealousy? “I’m meeting up with a couple of girlfriends there.”
“Including the one who left you at the club?” he asked.
“Kari? Yes. She works for Xtark.”
“Well, there’s been a slight change in plans.” A determined light shone in his eyes, as if he automatically expected her to agree with whatever he was about to tell her.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll be going to the party with me.”
CHAPTER SIX
BY THE TIME CHARLOTTE and Trace had arrived at the Edgemont Hotel, the event was in full swing.
He hadn’t told her any details about his concerns with Xtark, citing confidentiality issues, only that he didn’t trust them. What did he suspect they were doing? Selling body parts? Shanghaiing partygoers? Even though she wanted to be ticked off at the forceful way he’d invited himself, it thrilled her to know he cared. She was pretty sure if someone else had spoken to her in the same manner, she’d have told him where he could stick it, but then Trace had a knack for getting away with things other men couldn’t.
The ballroom was brimming with activity. Twinkle lights hung from the ceiling, illuminating the dance floor, and the band was playing a rock version of a holiday classic. Columns of gold and silver balloons were positioned randomly between the fifty or so linen-covered tables. She liked the simplicity of the centerpieces: large crystal bowls filled with silver ornaments and small gold-wrapped boxes. Probably takeaway favors for guests at the end of the evening.
Too bad she wasn’t as pleased with her outfit as she was with the decor. Why was it that some people had a natural knack for knowing what to wear while others didn’t? She looked down at her black cocktail dress, then glanced at Trace’s jeans and sport coat. Everyone else wore jeans, as well, making her feel self-conscious and overdressed. She should’ve guessed that “cocktail attire” for a software company meant a button-up shirt and a clean pair of sneakers.
“You look very beautiful, by the way,” Trace said softly, sending tingles down her spine.
She looked into his face to find his eyes dark, yet sincere. The pulse at the base of his throat flickered, drawing her attention. And as she exhaled, she found herself wondering how it would feel to have her lips pressed there.
“Thank you,” she managed to say, marveling again at how perceptive he was. The fact that he’d picked up on these subtle cues of hers that no other man would’ve noticed made her feel relevant and important to him. And she rather liked it.
She paused to talk to a few people she knew while Trace went to get them drinks.
“Whoa, girl, he’s really hot,” Kari said, scrutinizing him as if he were a piece of meat in a butcher’s display case. “Where on earth did you find him?”
“I didn’t. He found me.” She quickly explained how she’d almost been mugged.
“That’s sooo chivalrous.” Rose Marie covered her heart with one hand.
“I agree,” said Deb.
Kari twirled the swizzle stick in her drink. “Damn. I obviously went home with the wrong man.”
“Thank God you did,” said Rose Marie. “I don’t want to think what could’ve happened to Char if he hadn’t been there.”
“The dude I did go home with turned out to be a total bust, too,” Kari continued, ignoring Rose Marie’s comment. “He keeps giving me one excuse after another why I can’t meet with their vendor manager about selling into their company.”
“I thought he was the one making the decisions,” Charlotte said.
“Yeah, I did, too.” Kari rolled her eyes. “So, speaking of good hookups, your man looks loaded.”
Charlotte glanced over at Trace, who was still in line at the bar. “I don’t know about that.”
She purposefully angled herself so that Kari would have to turn her back on Trace in order to continue the conversation. His family might be wealthy, but he seemed pretty unaffected by it. He was more down-to-earth and relatable than many of the guys she’d dated.
“Bull. I saw the car you guys drove up in. That had to set him back over eighty K.”
“I don’t pay much attention to cars, so I wouldn’t know. It was nice, I guess.”
Kari let out an exasperated sigh. “How could you not know that?”
“Not everyone’s a gold digger like you, Kari,” said Rose Marie.
“Humph,” Kari replied. “Maybe he’s overcompensating for something.”
Deb laughed. “You can be such a bitch sometimes.”
Charlotte had to agree, though she didn’t find it funny.
“Who’s the chick your hottie is talking to?” Kari asked, taking a sip of her pink-colored cocktail.
Charlotte glanced up but Trace was no longer in line. She followed Kari’s stare to the other side of the dance floor. Trace was talking to two people—a woman in skinny jeans and a man with a cane.
Trace angled close to the blonde, said something in her ear before ushering her through the crowd toward a side exit. When they got to the door, she spun around to face him. From the looks of it, she was arguing with him. Given his stiff posture and the stern set of his jaw, he was pissed. Clearly, they had some sort of history together.
A twinge of jealousy shot down Charlotte’s spine. Was she an ex-girlfriend? He hadn’t mentioned that he knew anyone who worked here, but then again, maybe the man was an Xtark employee, not the woman.
“Beats me,” Charlotte said breezily, though she was curious, too.
Rose Marie and Deb turned around to look just as the blonde put her hand on Trace’s arm and took a half step closer. Charlotte’s cheeks heated, the twinges of jealously turning into full-fledged barbs. She wished she could read his expression, but he was turned slightly away from where the four women stood.
“Looks like he’s trying to get her to leave,” Kari said, “but she doesn’t want to. Do you think he’s doing that because he doesn’t want the two of you to meet? Maybe she’s his not-so-distant ex and he thinks he can still can control her.”
“Jesus, Kari,” said Rose Marie. “Sometimes you go a little too far.”
Charlotte set down her plate and decided to scratch Kari from her list of friends. There had to be a reasonable explanation. The bar had no line now, so she headed over and was soon sipping on a glass of the house cabernet.
Could there be any truth to what Kari had said? Was the woman a former girlfriend of Trace’s? It certainly wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Was that why he’d insisted on coming tonight, hoping he’d run into her? Staring into her wineglass, she considered that a moment. A man like him playing games? No, it wasn’t possible. If he wanted to see someone, he’d just do it. He wouldn’t make up some elaborate story just so he could come with Charlotte.
Someone jostled her arm, almost spilling her wine, and a conga line weaved past her. She quickly moved out of their way before one of the dancers grabbed her to join in. She took her wine and headed out to the lobby. The window display of a high-end furniture store had caught her eye when they arrived. With the crowds thinner there, she’d check it out, give herself a chance to collect her thoughts, then she’d head back in a few minutes.
She really needed to get a grip on her runaway feelings for a man she hadn’t known for long. First of all, she and Trace weren’t a couple. He’d made that abundantly clear when she’d arrived at the mansion. Business only. Which was fine, right? If he ran into an ex-girlfriend, big deal. Given his impressive physical attributes and his prowess in the bedroom, celibacy clearly wasn’t something he practiced. And second, even though there was something utterly magnetic about him—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on that was both exciting and comfortable—it meant nothing. She’d always been one to overanalyze things.
Sure, she felt at home with him and had really connected with his grandmother, but that shouldn’t surprise her. He was confident and seemed truly interested in her as a person, while Vik reminded her so much of her own grandmother. It didn’t mean that she had any claim to him or that she should harbor any expectations. No, she really wasn’t falling for him. Especially since he was now a client.
“So, who do we have here?” Charlotte spun around to find the woman Trace had been talking to towering over her. With pouty red lips and blond hair framing her face, she was beautiful, but her eyes were dark, cruel. “Are you already planning on what furniture to buy when you move in together?”
Damn. Kari was right. She had to be an ex-girlfriend.
Charlotte took a half step back. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”
“I know what’s going on. Are you hoping that he’ll change you, too? That you’ll need some well-made furniture built to last a lifetime?” The woman flashed a BOTOX smile, showing a row of perfect white teeth, but it didn’t reach her eyes. They stayed dark, unanimated, with just a rim of color around the pupils.
Alarm bells rang in Charlotte’s head, her skin suddenly cold. Oddly enough, Trace’s eyes would darken like this, as well, but with him, she’d never felt uncomfortable. Now, it was as if Charlotte were a rabbit looking into the muzzle of a hungry wolf.
“Get the hell away from her, Leona,” Trace growled, stepping between the two of them.
A sigh of relief escaped Charlotte’s lips. Where had he come from? Unlike when the woman had come up behind her, Charlotte was now facing the main lobby area and hadn’t noticed him approaching. Without looking, he reached back and clasped her hand, warming her icy fingers.
Leona rubbed a fingernail below her lower lip as if to wipe off excess lipstick. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to hurt her. But she does look delicious. We were just talking, weren’t we?”
Hurt? What was she talking about?
“I said go away.” Trace’s tone, though quiet, was sharp enough to cut paper.
“You’re such a goddamn hypocrite,” Leona said. “Sitting on the Governing Council, telling the rest of us to stay away from humans when you’ve got a human girlfriend yourself.”
“That’s enough.”
“Is she petitioning you to become a changeling, too? ‘I’ll do anything,’” Leona said in a fake vibrato. “‘My body…my blood…if you’ll just turn me.’” She smiled again, broader this time, and Charlotte’s blood ran cold.
Two small fangs hung from Leona’s mouth, making indentations on her lower lip. “I want to be a vampire just like you,” she mocked.
“Expect to be summoned,” Trace said curtly. Turning to Charlotte, he added, “Let’s go.”
ONCE OUTSIDE, CHARLOTTE grabbed Trace’s coat sleeve, forcing him to stop. Before he exited the hotel lobby however, he’d sent a quick text to the field office. Guardians would soon be here to take care of Leona, as well as find out just what her human friend knew.
“What the hell was…that?” Charlotte whispered. “I know what I saw, but—vampires?”
“We’ll talk about it in the car.” Maybe he could convince her it was nothing. Was that even possible after what she’d seen and heard? If not, he knew what he had to do.
“No, I want to talk about it now.”
He glanced around. There were too many people to risk it here.
“Come on,” Charlotte said, as if sensing his reluctance. “Let’s take a walk.” Incredibly, she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.
“A walk?”
“Yes. I love this part of town. Besides, we’ll both think more clearly if we’re walking, and I have a feeling this is going to take more than a simple explanation.”
He gave a short laugh. “You got that right.” Why did it feel so natural, so comfortable to be with her? he thought bitterly as he automatically matched his stride to hers.
They passed a liquor store, making him wish he had a pint of something right now. Maybe it’d loosen up the knots of apprehension twisting in his gut. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Charlotte again. Hell, he’d barely said hello.
“Listen, Charlotte. You weren’t meant to see what you did back there. That’s why I insisted on going to the party with you in the first place…so something like that wouldn’t happen.”
“So what did happen?” Charlotte asked, her breath fogging in front of her face. “Leona kept referring to humans, not people. The fangs. The Council. Changelings.” She gave a nervous laugh but still hadn’t let go of him. “You can’t possibly be a…a… Can you?”
“First of all, no matter what you saw or what you think I am, I care about you. A lot.”
He cursed himself for thinking he could hide his true nature from her. Especially when he’d let himself get close to her again. Since hiring her, he’d spent time poring through the storage room boxes with her, taken her shopping for holiday décor, sitting down for afternoon tea with her and his grandmother. God, he loved spending time with her. It didn’t matter what they were doing.
What a fool he’d been to think he could keep his distance this time, underestimating how powerful his feelings for her would be. The first instant when he’d laid eyes on her in the parking lot, he’d desperately wanted her back in his life, whether he’d been ready to admit it then or not. And now this? He cursed Leona and he cursed Xtark Software.
“Yes…yes, I know you do. And I…we
ll, maybe it’s crazy, but I feel the same way. About you.”
She cared about him? Even now? Confused, he glanced down. Her chin was lifted, her expression relaxed, and she was leaning slightly against him as they walked. Not exactly normal reactions when a human woman suspects that the guy she’s been with is a vampire. But she’d clearly put two and two together. A spike of hope jabbed at his insides, trying to find a place to settle in and take hold. But he wouldn’t let it. He couldn’t.
A group of clubgoers approached. They were within earshot, so he hesitated and waited for them to pass.
“I love this little store,” Charlotte remarked, dragging his attention to the lighted display window. “Notice how all the elements are different and yet they work so well, grouped together like this.”
He saw an eclectic mix of knit caps and scarves, hand-painted nutcrackers, driftwood picture frames, and antique toy trains. He would never have thought to lump such different items together, but she did have a point.
They continued walking and with each step he took, his heart grew heavier and heavier. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. A few minutes later, they reached a small city park overlooking the water, empty at this time of night.
“Listen, Charlotte.” He reached for her hand, pulling her down to the park bench with him. “Before I tell you what’s going on, you need to know one thing. I would never do anything to hurt or harm you.”
“You said that already.”
No matter how much he wanted to, he wouldn’t tell her that he loved her or admit to knowing her last year. Because that would make his logic sound even more self-centered than it already was.
It’s the holidays and I didn’t want to be alone, so I lied to you again. Jesus, what an asshole.
He’d tell her a limited version of the truth, because she at least deserved that. Then he’d do what he needed to do and never see her again. For real, this time.
“I have a feeling this is going to be complicated,” Charlotte said when he didn’t start talking right away. “Tell me about your freaky ex-girlfriend. What’s that all about?”
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