“What?” Cole asked, still distracted by the blue silk dress.
“I can’t afford anything here,” she whispered. “I told you when we started out on this that I’m not a Rodeo Drive kinda girl. The kind of rodeo I’m up to has horses and bulls, not designer clothes. My pocketbook doesn’t cover this sort of thing.”
He smiled gently. “Don’t be silly, dearest. I didn’t expect you to pay for any of it. I intend to buy your wardrobe.”
Sam flushed. “That’s nice, but I can’t accept something like that.”
He put the blue dress away and plucked a green from the rack instead. “Much better. This will make your eyes positively glow.”
“Cole, I said we need to go now.” Sam insisted.
“Nonsense,” the vampire replied. “You’ll look splendid in this one.” He held it out to the clerk and said in a louder voice, “We’ll take it. I’ll need a belt to match and shoes, of course. Hmm, perhaps earrings, but not a necklace.”
“Of course. We have nice selection this way,” the shop girl said with a happy smile.
Sam shook her head as her flush deepened and burned her cheeks. “I don’t want it.” Sam ignored the clerk’s glower. “Thank you,” Sam added after an awkward moment of stunned silence.
Cole waved for the clerk to continue as though Sam hadn’t spoken. “It’s nothing. I told you so.”
Anger flared deep in Sam. “And I said I don’t want it.”
As Cole brushed her objections away yet again, she spun on her worn-down heels and stalked from the shop. No man, not even Cole Grayson, owned Sam enough to completely ignore what she wanted!
She was two blocks down Rodeo Drive before Cole appeared in front of her. Appeared was the correct term to describe it. One second the sidewalk before her was empty and the next she was colliding with Cole’s very solid chest. She glared up at him before stepping purposefully around him. She managed a half-dozen steps before she ran into that gently unyielding wall again.
“If you don’t mind,” she said aware of how deep her Southern accent had just become. It was pure west Texas and a sign of just how annoyed she was.
“But I do, my dear,” he said. “What has you so terribly upset?”
Sam stared up at him in open-mouthed disbelief. After a moment, she snapped her mouth closed and sniffed. He might be more beautiful and charming than any male alive but he was still as dense as any man ever born. “I told you I didn’t want that dress and I wanted to leave. You ignored me.”
He tilted his head in what she took for faint confusion. The late afternoon sun drew peacock blue highlights from his long black hair. If anything, he looked even better in the daylight than he did in doors. Vampires who could stand in the sunlight! Sam considered Marie Desiree quite clever to make her vampires able to go out in the daytime. It opened up all sorts of plot twists that night-only vampires didn’t have. And it made Cole nearly glow. But right now she was annoyed and wished he was inside, or it was evening. He was wearing extremely dark glasses and she hated them. She couldn’t see his eyes. It made it hard for her to tell what he was thinking.
“I explained there was no need to leave. I’ll pay for your clothes,” he said. “I always take care of my girls.”
She could barely keep from slugging him.
“I am not one of your girls.” She twisted the final word into something as ugly and demeaning as he had made her feel.
“What do you mean? We’ve been together for three days now.”
Sam glowered up at him fiercely and didn’t say a word. Back in Texas, there were hardened roughnecks who were afraid to piss off Old Man Bailey’s little girl. In addition to the tale of Gilbert Martinez, they said she had a death glare that could shrivel a man’s guts. She turned that glare full force on Cole.
He was obviously made of stronger stuff and braver than the crews who worked the oilrigs but he was not completely immune to the force of her displeasure.
“All right,” he conceded. “I’ll admit my English is occasionally archaic. Maybe girl isn’t what you call a lover any more. But that has nothing to do with it. The fact is that I take care of the women I sleep with.”
Her fingers curled into fists. “It has everything to do with it. I don’t take money from men I sleep with,” she grated. She tried to get herself under control before she completely lost her temper and decked him. “I pay my own way. I always have. I’ve looked after me since I was sixteen. You don’t owe me anything for sleeping with you. I’m not a whore.”
He recoiled as if she’d slapped him.
“I never said....” Anger settled over his flawless features.
Sam scowled up, damning him for being six-foot-three. Well, he might tower over her but she didn’t care. She’d taken down bigger men for a whole lot less of an insult.
“Then don’t treat me like one!”
“I didn’t!” he snarled as he grabbed her shoulders. “I would never....”
“You just did!” she snarled back at him. “I told you how I felt about shopping there and you ignored me. You wouldn’t leave when I wanted to. Then you insisted on buying that stupid dress. Nothing I said mattered. Nothing I was thinking or feeling mattered. If that isn’t how you treat a whore, I don’t know what else you’d call it.”
“I never meant....” He floundered. “Bloody Hell, woman!”
She didn’t give him a chance to continue. “I may be living in your rooms at that fancy hotel and you may think this is all some big fantasy, but this isn’t Pretty Woman and I’m not Julia Roberts!”
He stared at her without comprehension for just a moment, then his smile burst out and without another word, he kissed her. She grappled with him for an instant, still furious with him, but he nicked his own lip with suddenly sharp fangs and his blood tingled into her mouth. Along with his blood came his emotions and thoughts.
I just want to take care of you, came his mental apology. I never meant to hurt you. Mixed with his words were his feelings: contrition and pure affection so deep it bordered on something very different. It was something Sam didn’t want to put a name to. She gasped from the power of his feelings.
Cole hadn’t meant to ignore her; he’d simply been so excited and pleased with the idea of buying her presents that he hadn’t been listening. It had never occurred to him that she’d see his actions as anything but what he intended—a gift for a beloved friend. True sorrow that he’d hurt her was mixed with his wish that she’d allow him to do this small thing for her. The money meant nothing to him; he had far more than he needed. He just wanted to share it with her. He wanted to share all he had with her. He hadn’t meant to trample her will.
He drew back from her and removed his sunglasses so she could see the truth in his eyes.
“Don’t you realize that I owe you my life? That oh-so-in-love-with-Wynn author who created me also destroyed me. I felt the flames that consumed my body, dearest Samantha. I died screaming from the agony of it.”
Sam shuddered and couldn’t bear to look too closely at that memory.
“Death had me firmly in his embrace. Then his painful arms were replaced by your warm, gentle ones. How could I not want to share everything I have with you?” He ran his fingertips along her jaw line. His lips descended on hers again and his mind spoke to hers. “I firmly believe that without you, I wouldn’t even exist.”
Tenderness so intense it hurt ran through him bringing tears to her eyes and an ache to her heart. She refused to place a name to the warmth he felt whenever he looked at her. To do so would bind her to him forever and when his feeling for her faded, she’d be devastated.
It was just gratitude, anyway.
It won’t fade, he promised her, his words rolling through her mind as he kissed her more deeply. But it might grow. I know you, Samantha Bailey, and there is a great deal in you for me to admire and love. Yes, my dear, I used the feared word love. His mental comments were tinged with amusement that it was she who feared to say the word rather than he. In thei
r case, it might be he who was from Venus while she was the Martian.
He didn’t allow the amusement of that thought to distract him for more than a moment before he returned to his view of their relationship.
“Maybe it is primarily gratitude now but that’s not all it is.” His thoughts were as warm and sincere as his spoken words. “Will you give me the chance to see if we can be more?”
She was just crazy enough to say yes. She drew back to look into his perfect face. “You know you’re not even real, right?”
“Perhaps,” he answered. “But then again, perhaps I am.”
“Maybe,” she admitted with a sigh and leaned against his chest. “I guess that’s good enough for the time being.”
He chuckled. “It is indeed.” She felt his lips pressed to the top of her hair. They just stood there contentedly hugging for a while. “You do realize we are standing in the middle of Rodeo Drive, don’t you?”
She had forgotten, but couldn’t really work up a lot of feeling about it. “Are people staring?”
“Oh, yes. Several.” There was a smile in his voice.
“Do you care?”
“Not in the least,” he answered. “It’s one of the advantages of not being real. You’re free to do whatever you feel like doing without worrying about the censure of others.” She laughed and he tightened his hold on her. “Now, will you please let me buy you that green dress? You really will look spectacular in it.”
She laughed again and gave in. “Yes, you can buy that damned green dress.”
“Good!” He took her hand and together they strolled back toward the shop completely oblivious to the curiosity of any onlookers. Neither of them cared about the little scene they’d created in front of one of the most fashionable boutiques on Rodeo Drive. Sam was pretty sure L.A. had seen much worse than an impeccably dressed Adonis hugging a tattered and rather plain cowgirl. If they hadn’t, they needed to visit Austin some Saturday night.
It didn’t matter. They could all go hang from a mesquite tree and dry out in a desert breeze for all she cared. Right now she was fairly content, and Cole was still whispering sweet nothings in her head. She had to say she liked the way he apologized.
He escorted her down the street as if she were a princess royal, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “So you don’t like the term ‘girl’?” he said as he paused and brought her hand up to his lips. “Would you prefer I said you’re my woman?”
Sam’s insides did another of those flip-flop gymnastic maneuvers and she took refuge in silence.
“Well? You know if you don’t say anything I realize that means you want to say yes but are afraid to,” he advised her. He laughed when she frowned up at him. “I do know all about you remember.” His grin was nearly blinding. “That memory exchange was a two-way street after all, my dearest friend.”
She shook her head and grinned back. What other recourse did she have? The man was completely irresistible.
He pushed open the door to the shop they’d left so unceremoniously. Ushering her in with all the aplomb he’d show a duchess, he called out for the clerk. His hand tightly wrapped about Sam’s, he advised the clerk they would see the designer collection after all.
“And do check to see if there’s something that will match my girlfriend’s boots,” he added with pointed censure when the young woman tilted her nose to the sky again. He winked at Sam as the clerk gasped and flounced off in a minor huff.
Sam threw her head back and laughed out loud. She thought he hadn’t noticed the clerk’s subtle rudeness. Apparently he’d just been waiting for the right moment to interject his displeasure. “That was mean.”
“Well, I am the evil villain, after all,” he reminded her.
* * * *
“Okay, so is the play supposed to be this depressing or is it just me?” Sam whispered.
Cole grinned and coughed faintly to suppress a laugh. “Well, it is titled Les Miserables.”
“They got that part right,” Sam asserted.
He leaned in closely. “And is it making you miserable, my dearest? We don’t have to stay, you know.”
She shook her head. “No, I suppose I need to see it all the way through.” She sighed. “I’m betting this is one of those where they all die in the end, right? Like bad anime?” Her brow wrinkled in mock consternation.
This time Cole didn’t manage to suppress his mirth and laughed aloud, much to the displeasure of the people around them.
“I can’t believe you’ve never heard of Les Miserables.”
“I’ve heard of it!” she declared in a defensive whisper. “I read the art section of the paper! I’ve seen reviews of it. I’ve even heard some of the songs. I’ve got a friend who’s into it and she plays the damned CD incessantly,” she explained and then frowned at him. “The road show just never made it to Midland-Odessa. I think it was in Dallas and Houston but that’s a hell of a haul, Cole. I can drive to L.A. as easy as I can drive to Houston.”
The woman behind them shushed loudly and Cole turned a quelling frown in her direction. He opened his mouth to say something cutting, but Sam placed her free hand on his thigh. She mouthed an apology at the offended lady.
With a snort of derision, Cole settled back though he let Sam know he wasn’t upset with her by squeezing her fingers. He simply didn’t like anyone interfering with her in any way. His excessive protective streak amused Sam no end.
He’d been holding her right hand since before the orchestra began to play. His fingers wrapped about hers were, without doubt, one of the reasons she was having problems following the play. He also had the wonderfully distressing habit of leaning over to nibble her ear or lick her neck whenever the action lagged. Consequentially, she’d spent a fair portion of the production thinking libidinous thoughts about her black-haired vampire rather than following the lives of the French criminals, police, and revolutionaries on the stage.
It had been that way since they’d reentered the clothing shop. Cole hadn’t been more than two feet from her since he’d convinced her to let him buy her clothes. As she’d sat in the boutique in her beat-up boots and ripped jeans, he’d held her hand as if he was afraid she’d walk out of the shop again. He’d chatted to her while outfit after outfit was presented for their scrutiny. His comments as he viewed the clothes were often subtly licentious and the flashes of thought she received from him regularly were completely obscene. Unable to even try and remain angry with him, she ended up giggling through most of their shopping expedition. Her only protest came when he asked to see evening gowns. She had absolutely no use for formal wear. Or so she thought. When he’d explained that he wished to take her to the theater, she could hardly believe it.
“Why is it so odd that I would wish to take you out?” he asked as she stared at him wide-eyed. “We are dating, after all.”
She gasped at the idea of dating Cole Grayson, unable to quite wrap her mind around the concept. She was so taken with the thought she didn’t demur when he bought not one but three fancy gowns.
She was wearing one of them now. It was the same shade of green as the day dress he’d favored, a subtle, mossy shade that went well with her ash-brown hair and hazel eyes. Cole had been concerned she’d dislike the low décolletage, but she reminded him that she’d worked the rigs with her father in the summer in tank tops and shorts that showed a whole lot more than the elegant evening gown did.
Cole focused on her bust and bemoaned the fact that he hadn’t been there to see her more casual outfits. She laughed. She certainly didn’t mind Cole staring down her top.
Sam had learned to take care of herself years earlier and wasn’t overly concerned about showing a bit of bust. Any one who said anything out of line or made a pass would find out she didn’t put up with that crap. But it was okay as long as it was Cole. Not that she was very worried about anyone else fixating on her chest. From what she’d seen of L.A., anything that covered more than an a few inches of a person was considered conservative. There
were more men and women on the street wearing skimpy outfits than there were taco stands in Austin. She’d never seen such flamboyance, and her best friend was Lurleen McArdle!
Still, the wild side didn’t shock Sam. She’d been across the border to Ciudad Juarez a few times with her dad’s crews. The good Lord knew you could find just about anything you wanted across the border. After that, she thought very little could ever shock her. She grinned at the memory. Her mama had been scandalized that Sam was sent to chaperone a bunch of roughnecks through the bars of Ciudad Juarez, but someone had to make sure the boys all made it out of Mexico in one piece. Mama hadn’t known quite what to make of it all.
She wondered what her mama would have made of Cole.
Thinking of Mexico while simultaneously trying to follow the course of Jean Valjean’s tragic life made her long for a decent cantina and a bottle of tequila. The longer the show went on, the more she felt the need for strong liquor.
Oh, the play was fine, beautifully enacted with fine vocals and sets. It was interesting but there was a point at which all the angst became a bit much. Sam was too much of a pragmatist to appreciate all the self-sacrifice and over blown emotion. She’d never liked 'talking head' movies, and though these heads sang more than they talked, it was pretty much the same mindset. Instead of rationally considering what they should do, they were all wrapped up in some emotional or philosophical concept. Sam rapidly became convinced they actually enjoyed the misery. They didn’t seem to know how to just work though life’s crap and move the Hell on.
More than once, she shook her head at the stupidity of it all. Of course, it was that way in most of the movies she saw and the books she read. The characters wallowed in the misery and made stupid self-sacrifices that didn’t help anyone. And they invariably ended up broken-hearted or dead. Time after time, she’d read it or seen it on her TV screen. Fictional people couldn’t seem to get a handle on their lives. Wasn’t there a single sensible person in any fictional story? Even Cole, noted for his practicality and confirmed egotism, had finally surrendered to senseless altruism. It had gotten him killed in the end.
Vampire Encounters - Second Chances Page 7