Blood Laws

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Blood Laws Page 17

by Lexi C. Foss


  “Will we be back for dinner?” she asked him.

  “No.” Short and to the point. No negotiation.

  All right. “I guess I can’t go to dinner, then.”

  “I figured,” Lizzie murmured, biting her lip. “Uh, do I tell them you’re together?”

  “Yes.” It would infuriate Tom. That was the least he deserved for what he put her through last night.

  “Like in a relationship or just a date?” Leave it to Lizzie to go for labels.

  “Both.” Issac answered before she could open her mouth. He arched a haughty brow, challenge bright in his blue eyes.

  “You don’t do relationships.” He had one-night stands. A lot of them, if the Internet was to be believed.

  “I also don’t see a woman more than once, yet here we are.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  His lips curled into a taunting grin. “I’m very serious, love.” He was enjoying this far too much. She couldn’t negotiate with him with her best friend hovering, and he knew it.

  “So, I can refer to you as her boyfriend, right?”

  Only Lizzie would ever ask that. “Seriously—”

  “Absolutely,” Issac replied, cutting her off.

  She sputtered. “I don’t get a say in this?”

  “No.”

  Lizzie squealed and clapped her hands. Her yellow sundress danced over her legs as she stood up and skipped around the kitchen. “Chick flicks and whatever pizza I want for a year!” She pointed one manicured finger her way and waggled it. “And you have to pay for it all!” Another squeal followed by a dance that only a former ballerina like Lizzie could pull off.

  “Oh God.” Stas’s head fell to the table as she shook it back and forth. “I can’t believe you remember that,” she grumbled.

  “Of course I do! I’ve waited six very long years for this moment. Freakin’ finally!”

  “What am I missing?” Issac asked.

  “Oh, please don’t,” Stas groaned and smacked her forehead against the wood.

  “Stas swore up and down that she would never have a boyfriend. It wasn’t her thing and she has no interest in her MRS degree.” She used her fingers to quote Stas. “We made a bet that whenever she got a boyfriend, she would let me choose movies and pizza for a year at her expense. That was how sure she was she would never date.”

  Lizzie was making her sound like a recluse. “I dated.” Not much, but she went out a couple of times.

  “Oh, that Jake guy so did not count. You went home with him after that wedding. That’s not a date, that’s called a hookup.”

  Her face was on fire. “Lizzie!”

  “Okay fine, Pete kind of counted. You went out with him twice, but he wasn’t a boyfriend and you didn’t even sleep with him. And then there was that one guy, uh, Brian? Brandon? Whatever. He lasted for like two seconds before you got bored, and then—”

  “Oh my God, just stop!” She was going to kill her roommate. Right here. In the kitchen. With a spoon, because a knife would be too quick.

  “Oh, like he cares. He’s a walking tabloid.” Her cheeks reddened. “No offense.”

  “No offense taken, darling,” Issac murmured. “However, please, do continue. This is all very enlightening.”

  “No,” Stas said.

  “The only other one was that Paul guy who wouldn’t leave you alone and none of it counted, but you’re finally dating. Like really dating.” She started dancing again.

  “I believe dear Elizabeth is more excited than you are.”

  Stas glared at the amused demon. “Oh, I’m just thrilled.” Picking up the empty plates from the table, she walked over to the sink and rinsed them before placing them in the dishwasher.

  She turned to go back to the table when a picture on the counter caught her attention. It was of her and Issac from Friday night. She grabbed it. Mystery Woman Coaxes Smile from Billionaire Playboy was the headline. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” This could not be her life.

  “I told you she wouldn’t like it.” Lizzie muttered.

  A masculine hand plucked the article from her grasp and tossed it in the trash bin. “Ignore it.” He told her, his palm cupping her cheek.

  “You only smiled for show.”

  “If you say so.” He leaned in to brush his lips against hers. “We need to get on the road, assuming you’ll still go with me.”

  “You still won’t tell me where we’re going?”

  “And spoil the surprise? Not likely, love.”

  His dimple was back. How could she say no to that adorable smile? “Okay, fine. I’ll grab my purse.”

  He kissed her again before letting her go. Lizzie blushed behind him, her brown eyes crinkled into the happiest of smiles. “Stop gloating, Liz.”

  “Pretty Woman and a pizza with extra pepperoni. That’s my first order.”

  “I hate you.”

  “You love me.”

  “Uh huh.” Stas gave her roommate a hug because she knew she needed one. This would be the first dinner in over a year that she let Lizzie attend alone. “Call me if you need me tonight. You know I’ll be there.”

  “I know. Thanks, Stas.”

  She let go and went to her room to grab her purse before meeting Issac by the front door. He stood waiting with a suitcase. It was the only one she had left since the other was still at his condo. She frowned at it and he gave a slight shake of his head. He was hiding it from Lizzie’s vision, making it invisible. Her roommate would have commented on it, if anything, to ask when she would be back.

  Unease trickled down her spine. Why did she need another suitcase? Her last one was still at his condo.

  “I’ll see you later, Liz,” she said as she followed her demon into the hallway. He murmured a quiet thanks for brunch before heading towards the elevator. Once they were inside, she gave him an expectant look.

  “I packed a few things. Just in case.”

  “In case of what?”

  “In case you make certain decisions.”

  “That’s not cryptic at all, Issac.”

  Humor lightened his features. “In case you decide to stay. Or leave.”

  “Yeah, that’s not any better,” she said, following him off the elevator and out the front doors. The lack of a comment from the doorman told her Issac was engaging his gift again. She suspected he used it often.

  He opened the passenger door of a brilliant piece of Italian craftsmanship. Is this what I rode in last night? She must have been really out of it not to notice. It was a sleek black sports car that was not meant for city driving. The leather interior still carried that new car smell too.

  She tucked herself into the bucket seat as he put her suitcase in the trunk.

  “Seriously, why do I need a suitcase?” she asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

  “Because …” His hand settled on the joystick between them as he put the car in drive. “I thought you might want some of your things should you decide to stay for a while.”

  He didn’t elaborate, just handed her a device to control the music, and suggested she pick something good for the long drive. She picked a heavy metal band and let the angry tones vibrate through his impressive stereo system. His answering grin told her he not only approved of the choice, but enjoyed it. Jackass.

  “Where are we going?” she asked for the hundredth time. They were well outside of the city, having taken the tunnel into Queens and beyond. The road around them had minimal cars, something he appeared to be using to his advantage as he tested the limits of his sporty car. At one point, she noted they were going nearly twice the legal speed. She hoped inhuman reflexes were his backup gift or they would die a very painful, ugly death.

  “Patience, love. Almost there.” His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark shades, making it difficult for her to read him. He seemed at ease, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the armrest between them. His jacket was gone, having been folded into his trunk before getting in the car, and the sleeve
s of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows again.

  “We’re going to hit the ocean soon.” She muttered.

  No reply. This was the game they played over the last two hours. Heading somewhere for the day was fine, but the suitcase concerned her. If he wasn’t so excited about where they were headed, she would have been a lot more put out and bitchy by the lack of information. He seemed to want to surprise her and in a good way. If he wanted to hurt her, he had plenty of opportunities. Today was about something else. He was trying to impress her. The kidnapping scheme wasn’t a great start, but she was willing to see where this went.

  The median disappeared as they entered a country highway that soon turned into a two-lane road. A sign caught her attention. Of course. “We’re going to the Hamptons.”

  “Yes.”

  The scenery changed as they went from country-style housing to larger manor homes and white picket fences. He made a few turns, driving deeper into the residential areas where the houses turned into estates. Driveway entrances drifted farther apart the farther they went. He turned down one and stopped at a gated entrance. Pulling a device from the glove box, he clicked it and the white gate slowly moved.

  There were garages in the distance, and a reasonably sized home off to the left. Not as impressive as some of the estates they saw earlier, but still pretty. He passed the row of garages and continued towards the residence, only to make a right instead towards another gate that was already open. An estate sprawled out in front of them, backed by the ocean.

  Her lips parted on reflex at the massive stone structure. Windows lined the elegant two-story estate, giving the outside an open appeal. A gorgeous front patio stretched the whole length of the mansion, culminating in a pair of open French doors. The circular drive ended just before it.

  A rotund older man stood outside wearing a giant welcoming grin between two cherub cheeks. He waddled over to the driver’s door as Issac parked, and opened it.

  “I couldn’t believe it when I heard the gate open.” He bounced on his heels, his smile broad. “My Cherie is going to be thrilled.”

  Issac set his sunglasses on the dash before unbuckling and stepping out to meet the much shorter man. “How are the kids?” He shut the door, muffling the reply. She picked up her purse and was about to open the door when it opened for her.

  “That’s fantastic,” Issac was saying. He held out a hand to help her from the car, then twined their fingers together when she stood beside him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Well,” the man clasped his hands over his rotund belly, “whenever we talk it’s usually about business. Didn’t want to waste your time with family news and all that.”

  “You becoming a grandfather is hardly a waste of my time, Robert.”

  “Maybe, maybe.” He rocked back and forth with the words. “So, who do we have here?” He asked, his hazel eyes were kind as he focused on her. She smiled at the jovial man. This was much better company than the friends she met at last night’s Conclave.

  “This is Astasiya Davenport. Astasiya, this is Robert Allmond. He lives here.”

  Robert blew a raspberry. “He means I live over there.” He pointed to the house they passed when they entered near the garages. “Cherie and I just keep up the grounds for Master Wakefield. Speaking of which, I better go tell her you’re here. You know she’s going to expect you to stay for dinner.”

  “Yes, I’m expecting company as well. Lucian and likely a few others.”

  “Oh!” Robert hopped with excitement while she frowned. Who is Lucian? “I’ll ask Shelly to help me ready some of the guest rooms. She’s back for the summer from college.” She guessed Shelly was his daughter by the proud look in his eyes.

  “Is she enjoying Duke?”

  “Loving it, of course. I’ll make sure she stops by to thank you.”

  “There’s no need, but I would enjoy an update. I haven’t seen her since she was thirteen or so?”

  That seemed to calm the man down a bit, his hand coming up to scratch his jaw. “Yeah, about that long, huh? I was starting to think the next time I’d see you would be at my funeral.”

  “Foolish thoughts.”

  “Not for an old man, they’re not.” There was a hint of chastisement in that statement that had Issac looking a little chagrined. “Okay, so four or five rooms will do? Yours as well?”

  “I’ll handle mine, but if you wouldn’t mind the others?”

  He puffed out his chest and gave him a stern look. “Master Wakefield, I’ve had six years of nothing to do other than keep the dust from settling around here. I do not mind one bit, and you bet Cherie will feel the same.”

  Six years? He owned this property and hadn’t been for a visit in six years? What the hell was wrong with him?

  “Thank you, Robert.”

  “My pleasure, sir.” He gave him a bow and scampered off down the driveway. Issac squeezed her hand and tugged her towards the open doors.

  “You have a manservant,” she murmured as they walked, “and apparently a house in the Hamptons you don’t use often. At least I know the tabloids were right about your net worth.” Not that she doubted it much after seeing his condo, but this property was something else. They were standing on a multimillion-dollar oceanfront estate.

  He snorted. “Hardly, on all accounts.”

  “Uh huh. So you brought me here to what, watch me swoon? Have dinner with old friends? Hoped I would move in, hence the suitcase?”

  “Hmm, no answers yet, love. Do you mind taking yourself on a self-guided tour while I shower and change?”

  “Not liking the whole walk of shame look?”

  The grin he flashed her was one meant for the bedroom. It whispered impure thoughts over her skin, heating her all over. “Or liking it too much.”

  Fighting the burn creeping up her neck, she took in the two-story foyer. It was decorated in beige and brown tones with a white wood staircase. A chandelier dangled overhead. “I mean, I guess I can keep myself entertained. Anything off limits I should know about so I can start there?”

  His gaze was pure sin, caressing every inch of her before settling on her lips. “Only the master bedroom.” His hand knotted in her hair, pulling her towards him. His mouth took hers in a long, unexpected kiss that left her breathless. “I’ll find you.”

  She stared after him as he disappeared down the hall instead of up the stairs. After shutting the open front doors, she followed his path. To her right and left were massive living areas, decorated in warm brown tones with splashes of white. It looked well-loved, despite having not been touched in several years. All the pieces were in pristine condition, but there was a tenderness about them, making the mansion feel cozy despite its massive size.

  The hall ended in an oversized kitchen with various stoves and ovens, a wall fridge, and an island sink. Beyond it was a dining room with doors that opened onto a stone back patio. A massive swimming area stretched over the backyard and ended at a pool house. Beyond that was a private beach and the ocean.

  “Wow,” she breathed. She thought Lizzie’s family had money. This was a home for the insanely wealthy, and he never used it. What a waste.

  Another hall went right out of the dining room to another staircase and culminated in a set of double doors. Finding them unlocked, she pushed them open and froze. Two stories of windows stared back at her from three angles. Thick velvet curtains were tied into the corners, granting her a magnificent view of the property and the ocean beyond.

  The room was void of furniture and decorations, just a polished hardwood floor and a grand piano. She toed off her sandals and left them in the hall with her purse before padding barefoot into the room. Above her was a crystal chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling. This was a room built for entertaining and dancing.

  She twirled around in the center, feeling buoyant and light. When she turned back towards the door, it was to find Issac leaning against the doorjamb with his jean-clad legs crossed at the ankles. His arms were fold
ed, enhancing his already impressive biceps and stretching his fitted grey shirt. Feet bare, hair still damp from his shower; this was Issac dressing casual, and damn if he didn’t make it look good.

  “This was Amelia’s favorite room. She used to dance in the center where you’re standing now while Eli played the piano.”

  “Eli?”

  “I guess you could say he was my brother-in-law. He and Amelia never married, but they were romantically involved for centuries.” Meaning his sister was immortal as well. Interesting.

  He started fussing with a white wood panel on the wall beside the door. It opened to reveal a complex electric box. Not that she was paying attention to it. Her focus was drawn to his ass. The man should wear jeans every day. Always. Specifically this pair. They were cut in a straight style that molded to his backside.

  “Amelia taught me how to dance when we were young,” he continued as the lights flickered overhead, “told me it was the best way to win a woman’s heart. I always told her I had no interest in a woman’s heart.”

  Music started playing. A smooth jazz number she didn’t recognize. The acoustics amplified the soft beat and carried the musical notes with ease. He stepped away from the panel and met her in the center of the room, extending his hand.

  “Care for a demonstration?”

  “You’re asking me to dance?”

  “Amelia would scold me if I didn’t.”

  “Would she scold me for refusing?” She accepted his offered hand. It looked too tempting extended between them.

  He chuckled. “She definitely would, yes.” He grasped her hip with his opposite hand and tugged her closer. “And I should warn you, my sister was known to make many grown men cry. Now put your other hand on my shoulder.” She did as instructed.

  “I’m not a great dancer,” she said as he walked her backwards two steps.

  “It’s all about the leading, love. Just follow.” She did, following his steps as he led them around the room. Using his hand on her hip, he introduced her to the rhythm.

  “Good. Now, let’s make it interesting.” His hand slipped from her hip to the small of her back. He applied pressure to encourage her to meet him move for move. She had no idea how he was doing it, but he was making her dance. And she wasn’t terrible.

 

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