by Julie Wetzel
This had to be the room Darien gave to people he didn’t like. The walls were a brilliant shade of yellow and had the same east-facing windows as the breakfast nook. This room would be pure hell in the mornings.
Darien opened the other door in this hall to show off the laundry room and electrical room before leading her through another door concealing a set of steps.
She followed him up to a roof terrace filled with patio furniture. There were still heavy clouds threatening rain, but Vicky pulled the socks off her feet and stepped out onto the damp terrace to look at the view from the top of the building. She gasped. “This is magnificent.”
“This is one of the common areas of the building. There’s also a library, a wine cellar, and a fitness center,” Darien explained as the sky started to drip again. He pushed the button on the elevator to take them back down to his penthouse. “Each of the floors has its own code.”
Vicky watched as he punched in the code for their floor, and the elevator took them down two floors to his foyer.
“If you need anything, just let me know.”
Vicky’s head spun at the magnitude of it all. She knew that Darien was rich, but all of this was insane for just one person. “This is amazing.” Turning, she looked at her host. “Can I really stay here?” She couldn’t quite believe it.
“For as long as you like,” Darien said and headed back into the living room to gather up her bags. “You’ll need to get some new clothing.”
Vicky followed as he carried her things up and dropped them on her new couch.
“I have some clothes that might fit you, but they haven’t been used in a while.” He went back out and to the one door they hadn’t gone into.
Vicky stopped as Darien pushed the door open and turned left. The decoration on the wall surprised her. She stared at the Celtic cross framed in the doorway leading to his bedroom.
“Everything okay?” Darien popped his head back out to see why Vicky had stopped.
Vicky pointed at the carving on the wall. “I thought vampires couldn’t stand the sight of holy objects, or is that a myth, too?”
He looked up at the wooden object as a sad smile slipped across his face. “It depends on the holy item,” Darien explained as he went back to his search.
Following him, Vicky stepped into the large, walk-in closet.
“The stronger the person’s faith, the more power a holy item has. That cross will keep most vampires from my chambers, but it means a lot more to me than a holy item.” He paused a moment before going on. “It’s the last remaining relic from my childhood.”
Vicky could hear the sadness in his words.
Darien fell silent as he rummaged in the closet. “I told you I was born in Glendalough, County Wicklow, in Ireland?”
“Yes.”
“Glendalough was based around a large monastery.” Darien’s voice softened, and the Irish tones returned as he spoke. “I grew up in that monastery.”
Vicky watched him silently as he shuffled stuff around. He seemed distant, and she didn’t want to disturb him and risk not hearing the story of the cross.
“That cross hung in the main chamber of the monastery. In 1398, the English burned Glendalough. I was away in France at the time, but I came back as soon as I heard.” Darien paused as he remembered the old, painful memory.
Vicky held her breath as she listened.
“They staked my sire out in the sun and burned his flock. Only a handful escaped.” He delved deeper into the closet. “One of the survivors saved that cross and passed it down through his family. When the plague hit London, killing the last of his line, I claimed it.” He sat back and looked around, disappointed that he hadn’t found what he was looking for. “It’s had a few close calls, but it’s amazing what a little fay magic can do.”
“Fay?” Vicky finally found her voice. Darien’s story was amazing, but fairies were a little too much.
“You’ll meet them sooner or later.”
The Irish note in is voice was gone, and he seemed to be back to the man Vicky knew.
“Well, it’s not here.” He stood up and crossed his arms as he thought about where he had last seen that box.
Vicky finally looked around inside the man’s closet. Most of it was full of normal suits and everyday items that one would expect in a modern man’s closet, but there were several other outfits that looked as if they had stepped out of time. She ran her hand over a coat that could have walked off the set of a Spaghetti Western. Looking down the rack, her eyes picked out other pieces that would be more at home on the set of some old movie. Darien watched as she brushed her finger over the rim of a top hat. Her eyes fell on the gold cording at the shoulder of a gray coat. She touched the fringe of the Confederate uniform. “Is this real?” Vicky asked in surprise. Her eyes found the dark blue of a Union uniform next to it.
“I’ve worn everything in here,” Darien said, watching her look over his history.
Her fingers found something that made her smile, and she pulled out a French cabaret dancer’s dress. Vicky held the corset and ruffled skirt up. “Everything?” she teased.
“Okay. Not everything.” Darien rolled his eyes and took the dress away from her to place back on the rack. “But everything in here is authentic.” He turned her around and herded her out of the room. “The box must be in the other closet.” He pushed her out past the large cross and into the master bedroom.
Vicky stood and looked around Darien’s bedroom. It was surprisingly light and airy. The walls and ceiling were a light blue, with what looked like wisps of clouds painted on them. Light blue, gauzy curtains accented the slightly darker blue of the bedding. There was another couch in the same color as the bedding. A large, sand-colored area rug covered the center of the floor, and the bed and dresser were the soft, silver-gray of driftwood. Vicky could almost hear the call of sea birds in the distance. It was amazing how he’d captured the feel of the beach without any water at all.
“Found it!” he called from the closet in the hallway.
Vicky spun around. She hadn’t even noticed that Darien had left her standing in his room, alone. He came back in and dropped the box on his bed. When he pulled the lid off, she looked down inside it.
Darien started pulling clothes out and tossing them on the bed.
Picking up a baby-doll shirt, Vicky held it up. Glancing at the bell-bottom jeans that landed on the bed next to her, she asked, “When did you say this box was from?”
“I told you they hadn’t been used in a while.” Darien looked over the only modern women’s clothing he had.
Vicky picked up a red T-shirt with the words “3 Days of Peace & Music” written on it. “Yeah, Woodstock was a while ago.”
“This is vintage!” Laughing, he took the shirt from her. He held it up to look at. “That was a great weekend. Even with the rain.” Pausing, he reminisced for a moment. “I miss the Sixties; people were much more open-minded back then.”
Vicky laughed at him and picked up the bell-bottom jeans and the baby-doll shirt. “It’s a good thing these have come back into style. If you’ll excuse me, I want to go see about a bath.” Taking her score, she headed out of the room.
Darien watched her leave before pulling a few more pieces out of the box. His fingers found a white, lace dress, and he held it up to rub on his cheek. He recalled the girl that had last worn this dress and the good times they’d had. Darien let out a slightly depressed sigh as he remembered how he’d lost her to a cocaine overdose. If only he hadn’t gone out that evening, she might have lived.
Darien shook the memory away and folded the clothing back into the box. He needed to find that picture to see if he was right about Vicky looking like his old lover. Only then would he know what to do about the feelings stirring in him again.
***
Vicky laid the clothing out on her bed and looked around again. She was still amazed that Darien was willing to let her stay in such a magnificent room. Grabbing up the messenger bag, sh
e dug around in it until she found her cell phone. She tried to turn it on and laughed when it powered right off. It figured that the charge had gone out of it while she had been in the hospital. Finding a plug near one end of the couch, she plugged it in to make a call.
“Hey, Vicky.” Vanessa’s voice rang down the line. “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing great,” Vicky answered as she hung upside down from the couch. “I got out of the hospital.”
“That’s fantastic!” Vanessa answered. “How’s the apartment?”
“I haven’t gotten back in there yet,” Vicky informed her. “The arson unit still has it closed off while they investigate what caused the fire.”
“What are you going to do?”
Vicky could hear the concern in her best friend’s voice. “Mr. Ritter offered me a room until I could find a new place.” Before her best friend could comment, she continued, “What I really need is clothing.”
“Ooh! A shopping trip!” Vanessa squealed into the phone. “Are you up for that?”
“Oh yeah. I think spending some money will do me good,” Vicky answered. She found shopping to be very therapeutic.
Vanessa giggled. “Cool. I’ll call the girls and be over to pick you up as soon as I can squeeze out of here.”
Vicky knew it was late enough that Vanessa and Beth would be able to get out of work right away. It was Maggie that they might have to wait on.
“So where does Tall, Dark, and Handsome live?”
Vicky rolled her eyes. “Have you ever heard of the Touraine Building downtown?” she asked.
“No,” Vanessa answered. “Do you have an address?”
“Um… no, but I can get one.” Vicky stood up from the couch and unplugged her phone. It chirped to let her know that the battery was low. “My phone hasn’t been plugged in since the fire, so if I lose you, I’ll call back.” Vanessa agreed, and Vicky went to find Darien.
She found him still in his room, folding the clothing back into the box. “What’s the address here?” she asked him, and he rattled off a number and street name. Vicky repeated it to her friend.
Vanessa gave a long whistle as she pulled the address up on her computer.
Thanking Darien, Vicky returned to her couch and plugged her phone back in.
“How in the heck did he get an apartment in that section of town?” Vanessa hissed into the phone.
Vicky was surprised at her friend’s stupidity. “Well, he does own his own company.”
Vanessa giggled. “We’ll just have to come over and see how well he’s keeping you,” she teased again.
“Let me ask if it’s okay first.” Vicky wasn’t sure if she was allowed to have people over. “This is his home, after all.” She could hear Vanessa’s unhappy huff, but her friend agreed. “I’m going to take a bath now. Give me a call when you get everyone together.”
The two friends hung up, and Vicky went to run the water for her bath, leaving the details to Vanessa. Vanessa always planed everything for the group. She loved making sure all the particulars were covered. In fact, she had already planned most of Vicky’s wedding—the only things missing were the right guy and a date.
Vicky looked around the white marble bathroom accented with the same greens as the bedroom. Darien really did have an amazing home. Her eyes drifted over the wall-sized mirror over the sink to the built-in tub and shower. This room was twice the size of the bathroom in her old apartment. She marveled at it as she turned on the water.
Standing at the counter in front of the mirror, she looked at the bandage sticking out of the top of her dress. The burn on her neck had been healing well when she’d left the hospital, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what Darien had done. He said he was going to take care of her wounds, but what did that mean?
Vicky carefully pulled the bandage off her neck. There was a light, silvery sheen of freshly healed skin, but no real scar. Encouraged by this, she pulled the bandage off her arm. A bald spot marked where the burn was, but the skin looked to be fresh and new. In a few days, she would never know there had been a burn there.
Vicky pulled the wrap off her hand and let out a surprised noise. The circular burn on the palm of her hand was as red and raw as if she had just dropped the coin. Vicky wiggled her hand, thinking about the spot, before pulling off her dress to check out the burn on her leg. This one had been the worst of them all, but it had healed nicely, too.
Stripping out of the rest of her clothing, she slipped into the steaming tub. She let out a contented sigh as the liquid heated her skin. Sponge baths held nothing to a tub filled with hot, soapy water.
***
“Do you have any bandages?” Vicky asked as she walked into the family room. Darien was digging for something in the back of the cabinet under the TV.
“Why?” He looked up in concern. His heart thumped when his eyes landed on his assistant. She looked wonderful in the light yellow baby-doll shirt and bell-bottom jeans. She had braided up her hair to hide the damaged section. That, coupled with the way the low neckline framed her chest and neck, leaving a large amount of skin exposed, thrilled him. Darien shook his head a little to drive the errant thoughts out.
“One of the burns didn’t heal,” Vicky answered and held out her hand.
Getting up from the floor, he took her outstretched palm and looked at the round, red spot. Darien covered her hand with his and closed his eyes.
She felt the familiar warmth engulf her hand. Heat shot through the burn, and she made a pained noise.
The warmth immediately stopped, and Darien looked at her with concern in his green eyes. “Did that hurt?”
“Just a little,” Vicky admitted.
“That’s not good.” Darien pulled her over to the window so he could get more light on the wound. He carefully touched the burn, and Vicky winced in pain again. “Let’s get this covered.”
He led her into the half-bath off the family room and sat her on the toilet. The marble in here was the same white as in both the kitchen and her bathroom upstairs. Darien pulled out a medical kit from under the sink. In no time, he had her bandaged up again. “Let me know if that gets any worse.” He looked down at the bandage with concern.
“I will.” Vicky rubbed the padding over the wound. “Thank you.”
Looking up at the man watching her, she added, “Um… I’m going out with the girls to get some new clothing.” There was something about the way he gazed at her that made her turn her eyes down to study the marble pattern on the floor before continuing. “Would it be okay if I brought them back afterwards?” Vicky glanced back to see his reaction.
Darien smiled at her. “Of course, this is your home now. You can bring in anyone you want.” His smiled darkened just a hint. “But this is my home, too, so I hold the right to throw anyone I don’t like out.”
Vicky blanched a little at the warning in his voice. “I promise they won’t be a bother.” She stood up as Darien backed out of the bathroom. Slipping past him, she headed back to her room.
Watching her patter barefoot across the floor, he let out a contented sigh as she disappeared up the steps. He liked seeing her barefoot. Darien leaned against the doorjamb and waited.
It was only a few minutes before Vicky came back down in her new sandals. “I’ll be right down,” she said into the phone before hanging up. She stopped on the steps as soon as her eyes found Darien leaning against the wall. “Um… I’m leaving now.” She continued down to the foyer.
“Have a good time.” He pushed away from the wall and walked to meet her at the bottom of the steps.
Her heart thumped as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Vicky swallowed, not sure how to respond to his tenderness. Part of her brain told her he was a great guy and she should go with it, another part told her he was her boss and she should proceed with caution, and the rest of it screamed that he was a vampire and she should get the hell out of there as fast as she could.
Darien could see the mix of emo
tions in her eyes and backed up to press the button for the elevator.
“I will.” She breathed a little easier in the space he had given her.
“Don’t strain yourself,” Darien warned as she stepped into the elevator. “You’re still recovering.”
Vicky nodded her agreement.
He held the door open and pinned her with a sharp look. “I want you to use the petty cash to replace your wardrobe.”
Vicky gaped at him. “I can’t do that,” she protested. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“You’re going to get clothing for work, yes?” Darien raised an eyebrow at her.
Vicky shifted from foot to foot under his scrutiny. “Yes,” she finally answered.
“Then consider it a business expense.” He smiled. “You deserve a nice bonus for everything you’ve been through this last week.”
Vicky stared at him in disbelief as he reached around the side of the door and pushed the button for the lobby. She was still recovering when the door slid shut and took her away.
Smiling at the closed door, Darien went back to looking for that picture.
***
Vicky stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby of the Touraine. She was still shocked at Darien’s suggestion. There was no way she was going to use his money to buy her clothing. Looking down at the black bag with its new leather strap, she groaned. She hadn’t intended to pick it up on her way out. Carrying it around had been the best way to make sure she had it if Darien needed it, but now that she was staying with him, it made more sense to leave it in the penthouse. Vicky was just about to turn around and take it back upstairs when she heard her name.
“Vicky!” Vanessa called from where she had been talking with Ethan.
Vicky shook her head. Vanessa never failed to flirt with any halfway-decent-looking guy nearby.
“Good afternoon, Miss Westernly.” The concierge nodded.
“Hello.” She waved at the man. “Come on, Vanessa. Let’s get going.”
Vanessa winked at Ethan as they left.
Vicky stood under the awning outside the building and looked out into the rain. It wasn’t the nicest day to go shopping, but she definitely needed something to wear to work tomorrow. She felt fine, and her burns were mostly healed, so she didn’t see any reason to stay home.