The Undead Next Door las-4

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  He smiled. "Step two is awareness. You are now aware of my desire."

  "Okay." She licked her lips.

  "Ah, you have moved to step three."

  Her eyes widened. "I did?"

  "Yes. Step three is your response. You have acknowledged my desire and issued an invitation."

  She tilted her head, frowning. "I don't think so."

  "You said yes when you licked your lips."

  "I did not. You shouldn't make such broad assumptions." She licked her lips again, then grimaced.

  "Ignore that. It was an involuntary lick."

  "I think not. Your body is reacting to me." He stepped closer. "Your body is screaming, Yes, take me."

  "In your dreams." She stepped back, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm in complete control of myself."

  "For the time being."

  She eyed him warily. "Which step are we on?"

  "Three. Your body issued an invitation. Step four, my body responds."

  "So we're entirely brainless at this point?"

  He laughed. "Normally, this would all happen in a matter of seconds, and I wouldn't give you time to challenge everything I say. But for some strange reason, I actually enjoy your challenges."

  "Oh." Her mouth twitched. "That's very kind of you."

  "You're welcome. Step four, I respond to your invitation. I move in for the kiss." He stepped close and slipped his hand around the back of her neck.

  "I still haven't said yes."

  "That's why I'm waiting. Step five is your agreement. Even your clever brain must agree now. If a man skips this step, he risks offending his lady and losing her forever."

  "'Cause I could walk away," she whispered.

  "Yes, you could." He leaned closer, just a few inches from her mouth. "But I know you want it. And you wouldn't want to break my heart."

  "No fair using guilt."

  He stroked the side of her neck. "I can be ruthless when it comes to getting what I want."

  "And I can play hard to get." In spite of her tough words, she tilted her head to make it easier for him to caress her neck.

  "Go ahead, cherie. Make it hard for me." He smiled because he was definitely hard. He skimmed his fingers along the line of her jaw. "The harder I work, the sweeter will be your surrender. And you will surrender. You want this kiss."

  She shivered. "What about you? Do you want this, or do you just want to prove you're right about the ten steps?"

  He took her gently by the shoulders. "I don't give a damn how many steps it takes. Your happiness is the only thing that matters."

  She sighed. "How do you always know the perfect thing to say?"

  "I feel like I know you. I know your heart. It is…so much like mine."

  "Jean-Luc," she whispered. She touched the hair at his temple.

  He moved closer till his forehead rested on hers. "Step six is acceptance. We know the kiss will happen."

  "Speak for yourself."

  "Woman," he growled. "You continue to challenge me."

  She laughed. "I know. It's so much fun. I feel so…tough. Completely opposite from the old doormat. It's the new me."

  Smiling, he touched her cheek. "I like the new you. You're beautiful, strong, and…exciting."

  She slid her arms up his chest and around his neck. "You're in big trouble now, buddy. If we kiss, that will only be seven steps."

  "But there are many steps attached to the kiss, and I will insist on doing them all. Tasting, touching, nibbling, sucking, the tongue, the scraping of teeth—"

  "Okay!" Her hands tightened on the back of his neck. "Bring it on."

  His heart lurched. She was surrendering. His blood raced to his groin. No doubt his eyes were glowing red by now. He kept his eyelids partially closed, hoping she wouldn't notice. "Step seven. The test kiss." He pressed his lips gently against hers.

  Her eyes flickered shut. "Did we pass?"

  "Oh yes." He brushed his lips across her cheek, then planted small kisses back toward her mouth. She opened for him, her lips soft and moist. Her body leaned into him.

  He took her this time, kissing her thoroughly, making her lips move with his. She was soft, pliant, delicious. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her hard against him. She gasped, her breath mingling with his own. No doubt she could feel the full length of his erection now, pressed against her belly.

  He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue. She tasted of mustard and relish, modern and American, but foreign and exotic to him. She stroked his tongue with the tip of her own, drawing a gruff moan from deep in his throat.

  Her fingers delved into his curls, pulling him closer. "What step is this?" She breathed against his mouth.

  He rested his forehead against hers. "I can't remember." He needed to back off. His erection was nearing maximum level of torture endurance. He would explode soon.

  He took a deep breath. The scent of her blood ensnared him, refusing to let him go. Her pounding heart thrummed into his pores, into his bones. God help him, he couldn't stop.

  With a growl of surrender, he drew her earlobe into his mouth and suckled. Her moan reverberated through him. He thought he moaned back, but he was no longer sure. He could no longer distinguish between her thumping heart and his own, her sighs of pleasure and his own. They were becoming one. He wanted inside her. He belonged inside her.

  He splayed his hands over her rump and pulled her harder against him. She gasped and tightened her grip on his shoulders. He rubbed his nose against her carotid artery, letting his head fill with the scent of her rushing blood. His gums tingled. He gripped her rear, grinding her against his erection.

  "Mon Dieu, I want you." He tilted his head back, trying to regain a modicum of control. He couldn't allow his fangs to shoot out. Or his dick to shoot off. He attempted to think through the haze of lust. He couldn't bed her here. If he teleported, he could have her in his bedroom within seconds, but no doubt she'd notice the sudden change of scenery.

  The stars overhead winked at him, mocking him for being without a woman for so long. But this wasn't just any woman. This was Heather. She was standing on tiptoe to feather kisses across his neck. She was sweet and generous. He squeezed her rump. Maybe she'd invite him back to her house and her bedroom. Yes, that was the plan. After Bethany was sound asleep, he would sneak into Heather's bedroom and make love to her all night.

  In the distance, he heard angels singing, sweet with innocence. His heart soared. Maybe this time, it would work. Maybe this time, he would find a true and lasting love. He would kill Lui and win Heather's heart. For the first time ever, he would have a family.

  With a jolt he realized his mistake. The singing was real. With her inferior abilities, Heather probably couldn't hear it.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Heather, the children have started singing."

  The dazed look in her eyes cleared in a flash. "Oh my God!" She pushed him away. "This is terrible!"

  Heather sprinted back to the gazebo as fast as she could. Good Lord, she was too late. Already, the three-year-olds were leaving the stage and the four-year-olds were lining up to sing. She spotted two empty seats on the front row next to Fidelia and Emma. Thank God they had saved some seats for her and Jean-Luc.

  It would be all right. She slowed down, struggling to breathe. Jean-Luc stopped beside her, not even winded. Just then, Cody's mother and another woman plopped down into the two empty seats, ignoring Fidelia's protest.

  "Oh no!" Heather gulped down some oxygen as she scanned the rows of chairs she'd set up earlier. All the seats in the first eight rows were taken. "This is terrible! I told her I'd be in the front row. She'll look for me, and I won't be there!" Her voice rose in panic.

  "Shh!" An elderly woman in the last row turned to hush them.

  Heather fought for another breath. Good Lord, she was panicking. How could she have done this? How could she get so wrapped up kissing a guy she'd known only a few days? What kind of mother was she?

 
"I'll find an empty chair and move it to the front row," Jean-Luc offered.

  "Too late," Heather's heart sank. Bethany was on stage, her eyes wide as she examined the front row. She grinned and waved at Fidelia and Emma, then a confused look of dismay came over her face.

  Heather waved a hand high in the air, but Bethany didn't see her. She was surveying the first several rows of chairs, and her wounded expression pierced Heather's heart. Miss Cindy started them on their first song, but Bethany didn't join in. With her search for her mom, she didn't even notice Miss Cindy.

  Heather jumped up and down, waving both arms in the air. Bethany caught sight of her and instantly brightened. Heather blew her a kiss, and Bethany grinned, then joined in with the singing.

  Heather took a deep breath and blinked back tears of relief. "She's okay." She turned to Jean-Luc.He was gone.

  Damn. How could he disappear like that? Was he embarrassed that he'd made her late to Bethany's performance? A surge of guilt flooded Heather. It wasn't entirely his fault. She'd been a very willing participant, totally distracted by that kiss.

  And good Lord, what a kiss. Her cheeks blazed with heat. That rascal—he'd hinted that he could make her lose control, and he had. She didn't want to think about how far she might have gone if he hadn't stopped.

  And where was he now? Did he seduce women, then leave them? And wasn't he supposed to be protecting her?

  The first song ended, and Heather clapped as she peered around her. Robby was standing off to one side, partially hidden by a copse of pine trees. He nodded at her as her gaze swept past. She raised a hand in greeting, then turned back to watch her daughter. The children started "God Bless America," always a crowd favorite.

  "Maybe this will help," Jean-Luc whispered.

  She jumped. Good Lord, the man could move quietly. She glared at him, suddenly resenting him for barging into her life and upsetting the delicate balance she'd worked so hard to achieve. Then her gaze fell to what he was carrying in his arms, and all her resentment melted away. Tears threatened, for it felt like a piece of her heart had melted, too.

  Without a word, he handed her the huge yellow Care Bear. She wrapped her arms around its softness, hugging it to her chest. She didn't know if he'd won it or bought it, but she did know he was the sweetest man she'd ever met.

  She spotted Bethany on stage, grinning and bouncing up and down. Heather's sight blurred with tears. Jean-Luc understood how much her daughter meant to her. He understood love. He had to be one in a million, and she was seriously attracted to him.

  But with her history of failed relationships, she had to be careful. And realistic. There was probably no future with Jean-Luc. As wonderful as he was, he had secrets he didn't seem willing to share. To safeguard her heart, she wouldn't allow the relationship to go any further. She'd keep her feelings to herself, enveloped like a seed package so it couldn't take root and grow.

  Still, it felt good. It felt good to know there were still good men in the world. And it felt good to know her relationship with her daughter was as sweet as ever. After all the upheaval she'd endured the last few years, she'd learned the surest way to remain solid and strong was to count her blessings. So she did that now. Life was good.

  She closed her eyes, rested her chin on the bear's big head, and let the sweet voices of children wash over her. For this small moment in time, all was right in the world. She would enjoy the moment while it lasted.

  The song ended, and the crowd cheered.

  She opened her eyes. "Thank you." She turned to Jean-Luc, but he was gone once again. Ah, well. She sighed. She'd known it couldn't last. The guy was different somehow. Immortal, maybe. Or worse.

  She spotted him next to Robby, deep in conversation with his bodyguard and the other Scotsman, Angus MacKay, who had apparently returned from New York. There were three more guys, standing in the shadow of the pine trees. A teenager in a plaid kilt and two tall young men wearing khaki pants and navy polo shirts. One guy was white and the other one black. They all looked upset.

  Heather frowned. These guys were definitely keeping secrets. They remained in the shadows, but still, heads in the audience were starting to turn. Strangers in town always got noticed.

  With the show over, Bethany had skipped down the gazebo steps to join Fidelia and Emma. Heather headed their way slowly. Since most of the crowd was leaving, she was going against traffic.

  Everyone gasped when the alarm went off across the town square at the volunteer fire station. A handful of men dashed from the park. People gathered in small groups to gossip and speculate.

  Heather weaved around them to get to her daughter. In less than a minute, the siren blared from the town's only fire truck. With the whole town watching, the firemen had made record time.

  Heather reached her daughter and gave her a big hug.

  With a squeal, Bethany grabbed the bear. "Mama, you did it! You got the bear!" She hugged it tight. "Did you see me sing?"

  "I sure did. You were wonderful." Heather smiled at Fidelia and Emma. "Thank you for taking care of her."

  They followed the crowd away from the gazebo.

  Emma eased close to Heather. "Where is Jean-Luc? He should be guarding you."

  "He's over there." Heather motioned to the copse of pine trees where the men were huddled.

  "He's talking to a bunch of guys. Your husband's there."

  "Angus is back? Come on." Emma strode toward the huddle of men as Jean-Luc approached Heather, Bethany, and Fidelia.

  Emma embraced her husband, and he began to whisper to her urgently.

  Heather noted how worried Jean-Luc looked. "What's wrong?"

  "There's been some trouble." He dragged a hand through his black curls. "You remember my friend Roman Draganesti from New York?"

  Heather swallowed hard, recalling the handsome man, his wife, Shanna, and their adorable baby.

  "What happened?"

  "They go to Mass every Sunday night at Romatech. Roman had a chapel built there, and Mass always starts at eleven. We think the bomb must have gone off early, thank God."

  "The bomb?"

  "Oui. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured. But if the bomb had gone off when the chapel was full…" Jean-Luc grimaced, and his voice choked. "We could have lost them all."

  Heather cringed at the thought of that lovely family getting killed. "Who would do such a thing?"

  She jolted with a sudden thought. "Was it Louie? Is he targeting all your friends?"

  "We know who did it, and it wasn't Lui," Emma explained as she joined them. "It's been a terrible night."

  "Aye." Angus MacKay strode toward them. "In one night, there have been four bombings. The first one hit Zoltan Czakvar's home in Budapest. He lost two cov—friends."

  "That's terrible!" Heather wondered who this Zoltan guy was. And Budapest? Were these guys a secret clique of immortals?

  "Jean-Luc's chateau in France was also hit," Angus continued. "No one was injured, but I hear the damage was extensive."

  "You have a chateau?" Heather asked Jean-Luc.

  He shrugged. "Only half of one now."

  Scowling, Angus wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulders. "Then our castle in Scotland was hit."

  "At least no one was killed." Emma gave him an encouraging look. "And we can always rebuild."

  "Aye." Angus continued to scowl. "From what I can tell, Casimir has targeted everyone who came to rescue Emma and me in the Ukraine."

  "Who's Casimir?" Heather asked. She wasn't sure, but she thought Louie had mentioned that name the night he'd attacked Jean-Luc.

  "He's the one paying Lui to kill me." Jean-Luc confirmed her suspicions. "Though I wager Lui wouldn't mind doing it for free."

  Heather shook her head. "I don't understand. Y'all seem like really nice guys. Why do these creeps want to kill you?"

  Jean-Luc, Angus, and Emma exchanged looks.

  "Are you sure Roman and his family are all right?" Jean-Luc changed the subject.

  "They're fin
e," Angus answered. "Connor wants to take them into hiding. Roman balked at first, claiming it was cowardly, but he finally listened to reason. We canna let anything happen to Shanna or Constantine."

  Jean-Luc nodded. "Where will they go?"

  "Connor refuses to tell anyone. I agreed. Emma and I will be going to Eastern Europe to hunt for Casimir. If we're captured…well, we doona want to know more than necessary."

  Heather grimaced. This sounded like war.

  A fierce look came over Emma's face. "We need to take care of Casimir once and for all."

  "I'll go with you." Jean-Luc grasped his cane with both hands.

  "Nay. Ye belong here." Angus glanced at Heather.

  She stiffened. "We can take care of ourselves."

  Jean-Luc's gaze wandered over her, Bethany, and Fidelia. "Non, Angus is right. I must stay here."

  "Casimir and Lui already know ye're in Texas," Angus warned him. "So ye're verra vulnerable.

  Since Connor is leaving with Roman tonight, I had a few men I could spare." He motioned to the group next to Robby. "Ian, Phineas, and Phil—they're here to help ye out."

  "Merci." Jean-Luc touched Heather's shoulder. "We have plenty of guards now. You and your family will be safe."

  "Thank you." With a shudder, Heather wondered what would happen next.

  "Heather!" The yell from the distance caught her attention. Billy was striding toward her, his face grim.

  Something unintelligible crackled on his walkie-talkie, and he turned down the volume. "Heather, I have some bad news. Someone set your house on fire."

  CHAPTER 12

  Damn that Lui! Jean-Luc had no doubt the bastard was behind this. The horrified look on Heather's face tormented him as he rode to her burning house. He'd wanted to drive Heather there, but the sheriff had insisted she go with him. So Jean-Luc sat in the front passenger seat of his BMW while Robby drove. He'd been to her house only twice, yet he was feeling a loss.

  Heather had to be feeling it a thousand times more.

  Her suffering hurt him much more than his own half-destroyed chateau in France. He'd bought it thirty years ago, so he could pretend he had roots going back to an old noble family. But the truth was, he'd never had a family, and a cold pile of stone had not produced the feelings of warmth and comfort he'd craved.