by Alicia Ryan
What difference could a day or two more make?
Eyes still closed, she nodded in agreement.
***
Darren watched Roxanna’s performance that night with anything but the exultation he’d expected—that he’d been feeling all day. Pietro had conceded defeat and left town. He’d even waited another week just to be sure he was gone, and tonight he’d come to get her back. But there could be no doubt what his heightened sense of smell was telling him. Roxanna had been with Branham; his scent was all over her. Not that he would have needed his nose to figure it out. Branham was looking at Roxanna as if she walked on water. He wondered if that was how he’d looked when he’d walked in. Not so now. He didn’t understand how she could do that to him. How could she be so cavalier about what they had? Had it meant nothing to her? For the first time, he didn’t stay for the end of the show but left in time to find some unsuspecting food and dine on his own disappointment.
Chapter Nineteen
It was five days before Roxanna made up her mind to go see Darren. When he’d shown up but not stayed to talk to her, it hadn’t taken her long to figure out what was wrong. If he could smell the blood in her veins, he might well know she’d had sex with Phillip. So she’d spent that night in the consoling arms of her new lover and all the next day cursing whatever gods she only half believed in for giving her the world’s worst sense of timing.
So she’d told Phillip she didn’t know what she was doing and needed time to think. Which was true, but hadn’t made Phillip happy. Quite the opposite. And then she’d proceeded to spend four days moping and feeling sorry for herself and trying not to look at Phillip and see the hurt on his face as she sang. Which for two days she didn’t have to worry about because Padworth’s was closed Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. So in addition to feeling like a complete shit, she’d also steeled herself for the world’s worst Christmas. Usually, she at least drove home for a day and had dinner with her mom.
The one bright spot in her sulk had come when Jack and Lance invited her to have Christmas dinner with their family. She hadn’t felt right about it, though. She’d either look too fine in her nice dresses or Jack’s family would be aghast at what she did and that she wore her hair loose. Really, if she’d known how much trouble one could get into without a hat, she might have caved on the issue.
Instead, she’d given Lance one of the gold whatever coins Darren had left her with and asked him to buy himself and his sisters something on her behalf. His eyes had sent her a silent “wow” and “thank you” before he ran off, promising to bring her back some of his mother’s Christmas pudding.
And he was as good as his word, returning with Jack late on Christmas night with an entire meal of roast goose, boiled vegetables, and Christmas pudding. Which was remarkably like fruitcake, but she was grateful nonetheless, since, other than herself, Padworth’s was completely empty, including of cooks.
They’d sat in Jack’s office, Jack watching her eat while Lance told her all the details of their day. Apparently, she’d gotten Lance and his sisters all new hats. She’d almost choked at that bit of news. And his mother had gotten a lace collar with what was left over. What anyone would want with a lace collar, she couldn’t imagine, but Lance seemed pleased.
Jack, however, eyed her steadily.
“I can only surmise that some of your friends have quit your acquaintance,” he said when she’d done all she could manage to pretend to like fruitcake.
“Quit is a strong word,” she said. “Let’s just say we had a slight misunderstanding.”
“Phillip...”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to lecture me. I’ve no desire to hurt Phillip.”
“It appears you have, nonetheless.”
“Nobody’s perfect. Not even me.”
He snorted.
“But I’m going to make it right,” she vowed. “Somehow.”
***
Of course, the how wasn’t so clear. Now instead of one lover, she had two angry ones. And instead of saying goodbye, she didn’t know what she was doing. She couldn’t leave things the way they were. Not to mention she needed Darren’s help to get back.
Not to mention that if he was back in the picture, she wasn’t in such a hurry. And there was Phillip. She’d made him a promise she didn’t feel like she’d adequately lived up to. And not for lack of wanting. She felt like she’d discovered a hidden treasure where he was concerned, and she didn’t want to hurt him. Not at all. Nor did she want to hurt Darren, but, assuming it was even possible, it appeared to be exactly what she’d done. Pretty much ruined everything.
But no more. She was going to fix this. And if it couldn’t last forever, well, what could?
Darren answered his own door, and didn’t seem surprised to see her standing there. Neither surprised nor pleased.
“What do you want?” He was only half dressed by 1815 standards, in black breeches and a cream-colored linen shirt that hung partially open.
“I told you that you’d have to bar your door if you wanted to get rid of me,” she reminded him.
His dark brows went higher. “I was under the impression I’d been replaced.”
She sighed. “Are you going to let me in?”
He stepped back and held the door open for her, and then silently led the way to his luxurious study. When they arrived, he shut the door and went over to prop himself against the edge of his desk. “Well,” he said, “what can I do for you? You seem to have something to say.”
“I didn’t mean for Phillip to happen,” she said. “Not really.”
“That hardly matters, as I see it.”
“No, you’re right. What’s done is done. He’s turned out to be quite...different from what I expected.”
Darren closed his eyes. “Why would you come here to tell me this?” he asked. “Do you think I want to hear about you and another man?” His voice was raised, and she could feel his anger, but he remained steadfastly anchored against the desk, though he was now gripping its edge.
“Maybe,” she answered. “You might want to hear that I think of you every time I’m with him.”
She saw his knuckles unclench, and he looked at her once more.
“You might want to hear that you’re never far from my thoughts. That you can give me something he can’t, and I’ve come here hoping you will.”
“I...” He ran a hand through his dark hair. She’d seen enough men now to know Darren’s hair was just a tad too long to be fashionable. But she liked it. It suited him.
“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “Why don’t you just drop him if you want me?”
Her heart clenched a little at that, and she wasn’t sure if it was at the thought of losing Phillip or at the obvious pain she was causing Darren. “I suppose there’s no good time to point out the opposite is also true—that he can give me something you can’t.”
Darren shook his head, his knuckles renewing their grip on the desk. “No, you could have left that part out.”
She shook her head. “No. I want you to know where things stand, because if you ask me to stop seeing him, I will.”
He hesitated. “Why do I sense you have something else to say?”
“Because I don’t want you to ask me. I want you to understand.”
For several long moments, he didn’t speak—only stared at her. “You’ve formed some sort of attachment to him.” It wasn’t a question.
“I seem to have formed some sort of attachment to you both.” She paused. “Very different attachments, in some ways.”
Darren shook his head. “I can’t believe this. I find you, bring you here, and now I have to share you with him.”
Roxanna swallowed a laugh. “It kind of serves you right for dragging me through time in the first place. It’s not like you asked my permission.”
“So is this some sort of perverse revenge on me? For that? Or because of Pietro?”
She shook her head. “No revenge. I told you I didn’t s
et out to sleep with Phillip.”
“That’s not reassuring...”
She ignored him. “Is Pietro out of the picture now?”
Darren nodded. “He figured out it was a woman that had renewed my interest in life, but he got bored waiting around for me to give in and expose you. He never did have a very long attention span.”
“Good. I was getting worried—and tired of waiting.”
“While he was here...” Darren’s voice trailed off. “You must know I fed from others. It was necessary, but there was nothing else. I didn’t fail you. Or myself.”
“I never doubted you.”
She dropped her cloak to reveal the yellow confection of a dress Madame Graham had first provided her. She saw him swallow and took it as permission to move closer. When she got to his boot-clad feet, she kicked them softly, and he obligingly moved them apart, allowing her to come stand between his legs. She reached up and pulled on the collar of his shirt, exposing his chest and neck. She ran one finger down his throat.
“Can I bite you?” she asked.
He sucked in a breath. “Dear lord, yes, Roxanna. God help me.” He reached up to hold his collar aside.
She stood on her toes to reach the place where the pulse would have been if he’d been human and bit down as hard as she could. He cried out, and she sucked down the mind-blowing song of his blood. In a moment, she was gripping his shoulders, trying not to spin away in the sweet cataclysm his blood brought her. But it was impossible to hold onto anything in such a torrent. Everything that was pleasure, everything that was Darren, raced through her body and mind. But pleasure overrode all else, turning her into a quivering mass of desire, pressed as close to Darren as another body could get.
When she knew what was happening again, Darren was holding her to him, her head was resting on his chest, and she was moaning his name.
“Were you thinking of him?” Darren asked, his voice low.
She laughed with what little breath she could muster. “You know I wasn’t.”
“I need you.”
She nodded and moved on unsteady legs to one of the large green chairs, taking a seat and hooking her right leg over the chair arm. He got to his knees and grabbed her ankle, sliding the long dress slowly up to reveal her thigh. He nuzzled his face against his bite mark, and then glided his tongue over it, warm and heavy, and Roxanna’s sucked in an urgent breath.
And she watched this time as his narrow, razor-edged teeth extended and slipped into her flesh. Throwing her head against the curved back of the chair, she waited for the searing, agonizing, ecstatic pain to subside. When it was replaced by the gentler tugging sensation of his drinking, she opened her eyes again and watched him, watching her. His eyes seemed blacker than usual, and a trickle of blood ran down the inside of her thigh. She reached for it with her forefinger and brought it to her own mouth because there wasn’t anything she didn’t want to share with him in that moment.
When she sucked her finger between her lips, Darren closed his eyes and groaned against her leg, using his arm to pull her closer to him. His hand gripped hard into her other thigh and she watched him shudder for long moments. Then he removed his fangs and ran his tongue over the wounds. He dropped his head onto her other leg, and she ran a hand through his silky hair.
“You do have feelings for him,” he said. “I can taste them.”
“That can’t be all you saw,” she replied. “Can you not see how I feel for you?”
He nodded. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said. “I want you with me.”
“So I haven’t put you off completely?”
“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would put me off.” He looked up at her. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”
She laid her hand on the side of his face. “I’ve missed you, too.”
He rose and reached for her hand. “Come with me.”
She nodded and rose to follow him to his bed.
***
“How was your evening?” Phillip asked her the next morning when she came upstairs for practice. His voice was a careful monotone, and she couldn’t tell how angry he was. He’d been angry yesterday when she’d told him her intentions.
“That’s not a question a lady would answer.”
He quirked one brow at her.
“Don’t say it,” she ordered.
“Fine. Where do you intend on spending tonight?”
“Alone.” Maybe she needed another day apart from both of them to think about what she was doing—what she wanted. Or maybe she was just losing her nerve.
Practice was as business-like as she could have wished, and by early afternoon, she had her much-desired alone time, but her mind wouldn’t let her rest. How could she have fallen so hard for two such different men in such a short time? She’d never had passion like she had with either of them. It wasn’t just Darren, though what they had was different beyond her wildest imaginings. Lovemaking with Phillip had an intensity she’d never felt with another lover. He was good and decent and innocent, and she was beginning to think he did love her, in spite of her being a little short on all those fine qualities. She wanted Phillip’s joyful, soulful, passion as much as she needed the fulfillment Darren brought her. And that was the difference—she needed Darren with some primal part of her, but she also wanted the love of a good man. That was something she’d never really thought to have. And, as gentle as Darren was, he wasn’t—well, he wasn’t even a man. He’d been a killer, and his soul was no longer his own. And yet, he was also a creature of his own making—and re-making.
Thoughts of being with the both of them came unbidden to her once again. And instead of chasing them away, she dove in and followed where her mind and her heart wanted to take her. Would they go for it or would she lose them both?
***
Darren came to the show that night, as she’d hoped he would. And he stayed until everyone but Phillip had gone.
“You were wonderful,” he said, approaching her out of the darkness.
She smiled and gazed into his eyes, the memory of being in his arms still vivid in her mind. “Thank you.”
Phillip slammed the piano cover down and shoved the stool back, coming to stand beside her. Still standing on the stage, he could look down on Darren. “Highmore,” he said, his voice rough.
“Branham,” Darren acknowledged. He turned his attention back to Roxanna. “Will you be coming with me tonight or no?”
Yep, she thought, he was definitely taking this better than Phillip. So far, at least. And in that instant she made up her mind to try to have it all.
Phillip made a noise that was something between a grunt and a snort.
Roxanna drew in a deep breath and roused all her courage. “I was thinking we might both come.”
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence in the room, and then simultaneous expressions of surprise and horror came out of her lovers’ mouths. Phillip sounded disgusted. Darren looked alarmed, and she thought she knew why.
“You can trust him, Darren. Once he gets used to the idea.”
“Gets used to what idea?” Phillip demanded. “Just what are you suggesting?”
She looked between the two of them. “Perhaps the two of you have extremely dirty minds and I was only suggesting some light conversation.”
Darren laughed, and Phillip looked confused. “Were you?” he asked.
It was Roxanna’s turn to laugh. “No, not at all.”
He shook his head. “You can’t be serious.” He waved his hand between the three of them. “Normal people don’t... Well, they don’t do that.”
“Roxanna and I aren’t exactly normal people,” Darren replied.
Did he just agree? She looked at him questioningly, and he nodded.
“I trust you,” he said. “If you say I can trust him, I will.”
She turned to Phillip. “Well, it’s time to decide. Will you come with us?”
“If I don’t, you’re leaving with him, ar
en’t you?” His perfect lips were almost in a pout.
She nodded. “That’s right.”
He looked back and forth between them, and she could see the war raging behind his eyes. And she knew the moment she’d lost.
“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head, and then looking at her. “I’d do almost anything for you, as I think you know. But I can’t do this.”
“Phillip...,” she began.
“No,” he said. “You don’t understand. I can’t be the kind of man my father was. He sacrificed everything to his baser urges. He drank, he gambled, he made whores of most of our servant girls. And it sent him to an early grave and nearly ruined us. This has never been an off-hand thrill for me, Roxanna. I won’t tarnish what we had by making it into something like that. ”
She pursed her lips, and then gave him a sad, wry smile. “I understand. Truly, I do.”
“But you’re still leaving.”
She looked at Darren, whose face was a closed mask. “Yes, I need to go with him,” she replied.
Darren held his hand out, and she took it and stepped down off the stage.
“Why don’t you get your cloak,” he suggested. “And a change of clothes. I’ll meet you at the back door.”
She raised a brow.
“I want to have a word with our young friend.”
She cast a wary glance between them, not sure if an exchange of viewpoints was the right strategy at the moment, but she didn’t see as she had much say in the matter, so she went to gather her things.
***
Phillip remained where he was and watched Roxanna as she left him behind. Although, technically, she’d left both of them behind because, for some reason, Highmore was still standing in front of him.
“I didn’t think you’d be one to gloat,” he said.
Darren shook his head. “There’s not much to gloat over. She wants you, and she’s settling for me.”
Phillip’s brows drew down, reflecting his puzzlement. “You’re not making sense. She just chose you.”