Tall, Dark & Hungry

by Lynsay Sands

  Bastien nodded. “Lucern turned her. She’s his life mate.”

  “Was she willing?”

  “Of course she was,” he snapped. “We don’t go turning people without their permission. Well, we did Rachel,” he admitted. “But she was an exception. She was dying, and we had to save her.”

  “Rachel is a vampire, but wasn’t one before?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “And Greg?”

  “Your garden variety Canadian psychologist—until he and Lissianna fell in love and she turned him.”

  Terri nodded slowly. “So, for me to be your mate, you’d have to turn me?”

  “Yes. If you were willing.”

  “And if I wasn’t?”

  “Then I’d have to watch you age and weaken and die, just as you did Ian and your mother—only over a much longer period of time, of course. I’d do that for you, Terri. And I’d love you till the end. It would kill me, but…we mate for life in our family.” He opened the door, took a step out, then turned. “I’ll be staying at the George Hotel for two nights, then I fly back to America.”

  Terri nodded slowly, and he nodded back; then he pulled the door closed and walked to his rental car. Bastien didn’t know if he’d done the right thing leaving her with this knowledge. He might be risking his entire family. But love was about trust, and he trusted Terri. She loved him, and while she might not be able to accept what he was in the end, she would never set out to hurt him.

  Terri unwrapped her prawn sandwich, took a bite, then set it down with a sigh and glanced out her office window. Prawn was her favorite, but it didn’t taste very good at the moment. Nothing did since she’d left New York. Since leaving Bastien.

  Terri grimaced and picked up her sandwich again. It had been almost a week since Bastien had left her cottage. And while she had said she needed time to digest what he’d told her…well, she had indigestion. She couldn’t quite seem to get a grip on what he was. Terri understood what he had said, and while she knew there was probably a lot more explanation, she could mostly comprehend the nanos and blood bit. But understanding and believing and accepting were vastly different things. Terri understood what he claimed to be, she believed it was possible, but she was having trouble accepting it. Her wonderful, sweet, perfect, fairy-tale romance had turned out to have a twist. Prince Charming was a bloodsucker.

  “That looks tasty.”

  Terri glanced up at that dry comment, then leapt to her feet. “Kate!”

  “Hi.” Grinning, the other woman removed her sunglasses and started forward, walking around the desk with every intention of hugging her.

  Fear shooting through her, Terri instinctively held her hand out to stop her cousin, then blinked at the sandwich she was holding up like some Victorian wench holding up a cross.

  “Bite?” she offered lamely.

  Kate stared at the sandwich, burst out laughing and took it. She tossed it in the garbage bin under Terri’s desk, snatched her hand, and drew her towards the door. “Come on, we’re going to Harvey Nichols for lunch.”

  “Oh, but Harvey Nichols is so expensive,” Terri protested, dragging her feet.

  Much to her amazement, it didn’t even slow Kate down. Terri had to wonder if the added-strength bit in vampire movies was true.

  “It is,” Kate answered, as if she’d spoken the thought aloud. She grabbed Terri’s light spring coat off the rack as she dragged her cousin past it.

  “You can read my mind?” Terri asked, shocked.

  “Yes. That’s true, too,” Kate said mildly.

  “So, all that time, Bastien could read my mind?” she asked in horror. “He knew what I was thinking?”

  “Nope. He couldn’t read your mind. Which is why you two are perfect together.”

  “It is?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Kate, I don’t think…” Terri paused abruptly as her cousin stopped walking and turned to face her, eyes narrowed.

  “Terri, I am Kate. The same Kate you’ve always known. The cousin you love, who loves you. The girl you used to hunt tadpoles with. Nothing has changed. And it upsets me that you would be afraid of me because of a change in my medical condition.” She paused, then added, “Especially since I took time out of my honeymoon to come here and straighten out what Bastien messed up.”

  “Your honeymoon?” Terri whispered.

  “Yes. My honeymoon,” Kate repeated. “The minute Marguerite called and told me what happened, I insisted Lucern and I change our original plans to include Huddersfield, England, as part of our tour. Then I left Lucern all alone and lonely in the George Hotel and caught the train here to Leeds to see you, all because I love you. I want you happy. I would never hurt you. If I’d wanted to bite you, I could have done so countless times while you were staying with me in New York, but I didn’t. I don’t bite. Now, please just come to lunch and let me maybe make more sense of this for you. That way, you can at least make an informed decision.”

  Terri hesitated then nodded. “All right.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Bastien, you aren’t listening to me,” Marguerite Argeneau accused.

  “Yes, I am, mother,” Bastien said, a tad impatiently. He didn’t bother to lift his eyes from the file he was reading.

  “Then what did I say?”

  Bastien set down the papers he’d been going through, and sat back in his chair to give her his undivided attention. Not that she noticed; she wasn’t looking at him at all, but was pacing back and forth in front of his desk with agitation. Sighing wearily, he recounted, “You said that you received a letter from someone this morn—”

  “From Vincent,” she cut in.

  “Fine, from Vincent,” he repeated dutifully, then paused to frown. “Why would Vincent send you a letter? He’s staying in the penthouse with us. Why didn’t he just—”

  “Good lord, you really are out of it,” Marguerite interrupted. Pausing in front of his desk, she scowled at him over her crossed arms, then heaved a sigh and reminded him, “Vincent is back in California.”

  “Is he?”

  “Yes. He is. He flew home a week ago.”

  “What about his play?” Bastien asked with a frown. “Dracula, the musical?”

  She gave a discounting wave and began to pace again. “The production closed down two weeks ago.”

  “Already?” His eyes widened. “I should have gone to see it on opening night, but I didn’t know it had opened. Did I?” he asked, not at all sure that he hadn’t been told and either not paid attention or just let it slip his mind. Many things had slipped his mind since Terri left.

  Marguerite stopped her pacing to say with exaggerated patience, “It never made it to opening night, Bastien,”

  His eyebrows rose. “Why?”

  “They had to close down. Too many of the cast and crew dropped out due to illness.”

  “What kind of illness?” Bastien asked, his eyes narrowing.

  Marguerite hesitated. “They weren’t sure.”

  He couldn’t help noticing that his mother was suddenly avoiding his gaze. “Mother,” he said in warning tones.

  Sighing, she admitted, “They weren’t sure, but apparently it was some sort of contagious anemia.”

  “Contagious anemia,” Bastien echoed with disgust. There was no such thing as contagious anemia. Now he knew where Vincent had been doing his feeding since arriving in New York. He shook his head in wonder. “The man ate himself out of his first lead role in a play. Dear Lord! How did he manage that? What was he thinking?”

  “I don’t think he was,” Marguerite said with a sigh. “Thinking, that is. I suspect he was so nervous about his lead role that he just—”

  “He didn’t seem nervous,” Bastien snapped. He had known the man for four hundred years; nothing made him nervous.

  “That’s true,” his mother allowed reluctantly, then her expression cleared. “Well, of course!”

  “Of course, what?” Bastien asked, suspecting he didn’t want to kn
ow.

  “Well, it was probably comfort eating.”

  “Comfort eating?” he repeated incredulously.

  “Mmm.” Marguerite nodded. “Well, there were Etienne and Lissianna, happy with their life mates, and Lucern marrying his, and you with Terri…He was probably lonely, suddenly aware of his solitary status, and overfeeding because of it.”

  “Dear Lord.” Bastien sank back in his seat and shook his head.

  “The poor boy,” Marguerite murmured.

  “Yes, poor boy,” Bastien said dryly. He rolled his eyes. His mother had always had a soft spot for Vincent; he was her favorite nephew.

  “Perhaps I should go visit him,” she murmured thoughtfully.

  Bastien perked up at this suggestion. “Perhaps you should. Understanding as you are, you might be able to help him.”

  “Yes.” Marguerite picked up her purse off his desk. “A trip to California would be nice this time of year.”

  “I hear it’s lovely,” he agreed encouragingly.

  “Yes. I think I will.” She slung her purse strap over her shoulder, then paused to peer at him. “You know I love you and wouldn’t run off to California to tend Vincent if I didn’t already know your little problem was taken care of, don’t you?”

  Bastien’s head jerked slightly. Her comment caught him by surprise. “I don’t have a problem,” he growled, then added, “And what do you mean it’s been taken care of?”

  Marguerite ignored the question. Whirling away from the desk, she headed for the door. “Well, I’m off to California. Vincent will no doubt insist I stay with him, so ring me there if you have any…news.”

  “Wait! Mother!” Bastien half rose, then paused and simply sank down in his seat again when the door closed. For a minute, he stared blindly at the closed door, wondering what she had been talking about. Bastien suspected she had meant his broken heart when she spoke of his problem, but he had no idea what she meant when she’d said it was taken care of. The possibilities were endless. No doubt a half-dozen New York psychologists were going to call him over the next couple of days—pretty, single female psychologists—all claiming a need to talk to him about his mother.

  Bastien scrubbed his hands through his hair with agitation. Marguerite Argeneau had to be the most annoying, interfering…And she was now Vincent’s problem. For a while, at least.

  “Sorry, Vinny,” he muttered under his breath. A small smile plucked at his lips at the idea of the chaos his cousin was about to suffer, but it died quickly. As annoying and persistent as she could be, Marguerite Argeneau often got what she wanted. She had managed to get Kate back for Lucern when the woman had fled him for New York. And she had arranged for Thomas to get Etienne and Rachel back together when they had fallen out. It was just a shame she hadn’t set her mind to getting Terri back for him.

  Not that he wanted her interference, he assured himself.

  Meredith was talking on the phone when Terri walked into her office. The woman stopped dead in the middle of her conversation and gaped at her; then she hung up the phone without a word of good-bye or an explanation to whomever she had been talking to. “Am I glad to see you.”

  Terri smiled. “Well, it’s nice to see you too, Meredith.”

  “Trust me, not as nice as it is for me to see you, Terri.” The secretary stood, collected her purse and jacket, and walked around the desk. “He’s been a miserable grouch ever since returning from England. He loves you, you know.”

  “Yes.” Terri smiled. “He told me that in Huddersfield. The problem was whether I could handle what you all are.” One of the things that Kate had explained was that most of the employees at the upper level were vampires as well. There were many employees at Argeneau Enterprises who weren’t, but those in important positions were. It eliminated the possibility of a disgruntled employee blabbing about what they were to the rest of the world.

  Meredith paused in front of her and nodded. “And now?”

  “And now, I’m unemployed, homeless, and here,” Terri said wryly. She’d quit her job, and even managed to sell the cottage before leaving. She intended to look for a position in America, or Toronto, or wherever it was that she and Bastien ended up. If he still wanted her.

  Smiling, the secretary leaned forward and hugged her. “Welcome to the family,” she said. Then turned to gesture to Bastien’s office door. “It’s not locked. He’ll be happy to see you. I’m going to an early lunch.”

  “Thank you,” Terri said quietly. She waited for the older woman to leave the office before she knocked, waited for his “Enter”—which was rather snappish, she noticed—then walked in.

  “Meredith, where the hell did I put—” His harassed tones died abruptly as he glanced up and spotted her. “Terri.”

  “You didn’t put me anywhere, but you left me in Huddersfield.” She closed the door and crossed the room, suddenly unsure that Kate and Meredith were right, and that he would really be happy to see her. He didn’t look too happy.

  Bastien was confused for a minute; then he reran his last words to himself—“Meredith, where the hell did I put…Terri.” Understanding dawned. “I waited the two days.”

  “I’m a slow thinker,” Terri said apologetically. “And thick sometimes. Kate had to come see me before I got over old presumptions.”

  “Old presumptions?”

  “Well, you know. Thirty-three years of vampire movies can leave an impression,” Terri explained with a shrug. “I was stuck on the word, not seeing the man. Or the woman, for that matter.” She paused in front of his desk. “I was even afraid of Kate when she first showed up at my office in Leeds.”

  “Kate came to the University?” Bastien asked.

  Terri nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “She said she just knew that you’d mess up the explaining part.”

  “I didn’t mess up the explaining part,” he snapped.

  “‘Have you seen the movie An American Werewolf in London?’” she quoted back to him. She shook her head and laughed.

  Bastien flushed. So, okay—maybe that hadn’t been the smoothest opening. Since then, he’d thought of at least a dozen better ways to start.

  “I was under a bit of pressure,” he excused himself. He gave a weary shrug, then sat back in his seat and eyed her. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here? Or are you enjoying torturing me?”

  “I’m here because I love you.”

  That sounded hopeful, he thought, his body tensing.

  “And because I hope you still love me.”

  Bastien stared at her for a minute, part of him wanting to leap over the desk and take her in his arms and show her how much he still loved her. The other part urged caution. “And what about”—he gestured to his body—“my medical condition?”

  Terri gave a laugh. “Medical condition?”

  Bastien sighed wearily. “You know what I mean.”

  She hesitated, then asked, “Do you still love me, Bastien? Or are you so hurt that I needed time to think about this that you aren’t sure you want anything to do with me anymore?”

  “I still love you,” he admitted. “I’ll love you forever. Or at least for the next four or five hundred years. After that, we might have to work at it.”

  Terri grinned and walked around the desk.

  Bastien watched her, unable to move, still wary, then gave an “oomph” as she dropped into his lap.

  “I can accept your ‘medical condition,’” she told him. “And I’d like to spend my life, however long it is, with you. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, would you make love to me please?” She slid her arms around his shoulders. “I know we still have talking to do, but I really need to feel close to you again. I’ve felt so cold and scared inside since you left.”

  Bastien felt some of the numbness that had claimed him for the last three weeks slip away, and compassion took its place. That was how he’d felt; cold and scared, alone inside. It was like all happiness had gone out of his life along with her. Bastien let his arms slide a
round her waist, and he dipped his head to kiss her.

  She was warm in his arms, and sweet on his lips, but it wasn’t until she sighed into his mouth that Bastien felt passion begin to creep warily into him. He’d missed her. He’d missed touching her, talking to her, just being with her. And he’d missed her sighs, her moans, and the way her body moved against his.

  Bastien let a hand slide from her waist up to her breast, and he squeezed gently, a small sigh sliding out as she arched her body and moaned in response. He could almost feel the protective ice that had formed around his heart three weeks ago cracking and crumbling away. It left his chest aching. He now understood the phrase “I love you so much it hurts.” His heart did hurt, and only Terri could soothe it.

  “Terri,” he murmured, breaking their kiss and trailing his lips over her cheek. “I need you.”

  “I need you, too.” There was a catch in her voice as she admitted it, an excited breathless sound. Then she caught her fingers in his hair and forced his mouth to hers, kissing him with the passion he remembered and yearned for. The ache in his heart eased, but now the rest of his body ached in its place.

  Bastien wanted her badly, and didn’t think he could be gentle and caring and considerate about it. His instincts urged him to rip at her clothes and bury himself deep inside her. The hand at her breast shifted to the buttons down the front of her blouse, working them carelessly and popping several in his impatience to feel her skin. It was a relief to get the top open. Then he found himself frustrated by the black satin bra she wore underneath. Terri immediately reached between them and unsnapped the front hook, allowing the material to gape open. Bastien was on those breasts at once, his hands covering and then squeezing the warm soft skin. He broke away and closed his mouth over one erect nipple.

  “We should move to the couch,” he muttered against her skin.

  “No,” Terri murmured—and he felt disappointment shift through him as she suddenly slid away and out of his reach. But it seemed Terri wasn’t in the mood for much foreplay, either. Before he could suffer disappointment for long, or even move, she settled back onto his lap, this time straddling him.