Midnight Temptation

by Shari Nichols

  His gaze locked with hers, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. They both stood there, staring at each other. It was as though he could see beneath her armor, the kind she wore under the little black dress.

  The word handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. Mythological titans like Adonis and Poseidon came to mind, males so stunning, they couldn’t possibly be real. But then she thought of other words too, like arrogant, brash…controlling…she could go on.

  Mulroney crossed the lobby with a confidant gait, his long legs eating up the distance between them in a few easy strides. Her heart hammered in her chest with every step.

  Every female head turned to catch a glimpse of the vampire. The closer he got, the more her body became hyperaware of his presence. He kept his thick head of dark hair short on the sides and longer in the front. The cut showed off the angles and hard lines of his face. Sexy stubble darkened a square jaw, and he looked every bit as dangerous as she remembered. Long, and lean, Gillian could make out the ripple of sinewy muscle beneath the jacket of his grey suit. In the past, she’d always been attracted to the artistic types. So, there was no good reason why she was drawn to this rough-hewn alpha.

  But Goddess help her, he was magnificent.

  Laughter drifted from the bar, and that’s when she realized she was still standing on a chair, gawking at him like some lovesick schoolgirl. She went to step down and her foot slipped out from one of her strappy sandals. Before she could fall sideways onto the marble, two strong arms wrapped around her waist and caught her in midair.

  When she looked up and into Mulroney’s ice-blue eyes, her heart gave a little flutter. Apparently, the legends about vampires having preternatural speed and strength were real. But then, as his gaze filled with a kind of raw, primal desire, she had no doubt the steamy ones about them possessing a certain sexual allure also rang true.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck,” Mulroney whispered close to her ear and set her on her feet. “What are you doing here tonight, Miss Howe?” The deep rumble of his voice did funny things to her insides.

  “I could ask you the same question.” Gillian grabbed the scissors and scotch tape off the table, then shoved them in her black beaded bag. “If you must know, I’m working,” Gillian snapped. Ever since the prickly detective had been assigned to investigate the robbery of one of her clients, a local antique dealer, their paths had collided on more than one occasion.

  Mulroney’s eyes did a slow sweep of her from the tips of her three-inch heels to the top of her head. Goosebumps instantly spread across her flesh. Gillian wanted to squirm from the flagrant perusal, but remained still, refusing to give him the satisfaction. Why would she? After all, he had tried to ruin her life. “Interesting work attire,” he murmured.

  Her hands clenched at her sides, fighting the urge to tug on her dress again. “I’m sure you didn’t walk over here to comment on my choice of clothing. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?” she asked with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

  “Trust me, this wasn’t planned,” he said in a gruff voice, refusing to look her in the eye.

  Gillian couldn’t help remembering the day he and his partner had showed up at the coven. Peppering her with questions and unwarranted accusations, they’d invaded her safe space, conjuring that too familiar lash of shame, and reminding her of the days when the neighbors used to call the cops to keep her parents from an all-out war.

  He kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, his stance casual, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. There was no mistaking the predatory way he kept checking out the people strolling by as only a cop would. She followed his gaze as it took in every detail, restless with intensity, before finally landing on their banner. “Is this a private fundraiser?”

  She nodded, not in the mood to elaborate. “Are you here in an official capacity? What’s the matter, no real criminals on the streets tonight?” Or maybe this was personal and he was meeting someone. He’d worked with Alex on several cases, and according to Willow, he was a confirmed bachelor, not that she had inquired or anything.

  “A quick word, please, Miss Howe. We need to talk.” The object of her unhealthy obsession ignored her questions and reached for her elbow, pulling her off to the side. His touch seared through the thin material of her dress, leaving a hot flush along her skin. At five-foot-seven, she wasn’t exactly short, but even in her heels, he towered over her.

  “Hold on. I’m kind of busy right now. What’s this about?” Gillian demanded, catching a whiff of his masculine scent, a blend of sandalwood and clean laundry. She fought the urge to sigh and glared at him instead.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” Mulroney glanced over at the couple’s tables scattered with rose petals, floating candles, bowls of heart-shaped chocolates, and the Lawrence Charity placards. He turned back to face her and scowled. “I want you to leave. Now.”

  “Excuse me?” His words knocked Gillian off-center and before she could process them, an attractive female vampire with dark hair pulled in a tight ponytail walked up to Mulroney and placed a hand on his arm.

  “It’s time. We need to go.” A surge of irrational jealousy coursed through Gillian’s veins like battery acid.

  For a split second he hesitated, his gaze still fixed on Gillian, and she sensed some kind of inner battle raging inside him. Then he gave her a curt nod and walked away. Her heart sank.

  Brooke approached and crossed her arms over her chest. “What was that all about?”

  Not sure what to make of their twisted interaction, or of Mulroney’s ominous words for that matter, Gillian sucked in a quivering breath and let it out. “No idea.”

  Chapter 2

  One creepy proposition and five readings later, Gillian was ready to call it a night when Brooke plopped down in the chair across from her. A rapturous expression spread across her pretty face the moment she slipped off her shoes. While Brooke hit on the finer points of the evening, Gillian’s gaze kept darting around the lobby in search of Mulroney, but there was no sign of him. His cryptic words still rang in her head and made her stomach clench. You shouldn’t be here.

  “Gillian? Did you hear a word I said?”

  Her cheeks heated. “What? I’m sorry. I got a little distracted. Please continue.”

  “I was saying that overall, the night was a huge success.” Brooke flipped through the pile of score sheets before looking up. “Whatever you and Saje did must’ve worked because we had five out of seven matches.”

  “I think your expertise may have helped.” Gillian smiled and pulled out her phone, posting pictures from the night all over her social media. She connected the event with the two charities, the shop, and her weekly podcast. #SpeedatingForCharity #LawrenceCancerSupportNetwork, #HopeClub, #Enchantments, #EatTarotLove.

  From the beginning, she’d gained quite a following from her podcast. It had taken a few years and a tremendous amount of hard work, but now she had over a million followers. In a matter of seconds, her phone began to ping nonstop. She hoped tonight had helped her on the road to radio. Gillian stuck her phone in her purse and gave Brooke her full attention.

  “Now I just have to build up my contacts again, but I suppose that’s a good problem to have.” Brooke glanced around the lobby. “No sign of Mulroney. What’s the deal between you two? There’s some major sexual tension going on, and trust me, from a matchmaker’s perspective, you know it when you see it. You get this look in your eyes when you talk about him.”

  Gillian flushed. “What look?”

  Brooke chuckled. “You’re doing it right now. Your pupils get big and dilated. It’s a signal of sexual attraction. Do you happen to know his birthday? I wonder if you two would be a match.”

  “Don’t go there, Brooke,” Gillian warned.

  “I get that he came to the coven to investigate those stolen antiques, but you can’t hate him for doing his job. Besides, don’t you think it’s funny that you two ran into each other again? Maybe it’s fate.”

  “
More like bad luck.” Gillian shot back. For some strange reason, the universe kept putting them in each other’s paths. This must be her karma for some past misdeeds, she reasoned. “Look, I promise I’ll explain why I don’t like him, even give you every sordid detail, but not tonight. I don’t want to kill my jam.”

  “Fair enough. Where’s Saje?”

  “She took off. She had a date with Nick.” When Nick Hastings, the demon special agent, had been attacked while protecting Willow, he landed in the hospital. Saje went to visit him and the two have been together ever since. Up until a few months ago, Gillian and Saje had been partners in collecting an impressive list of assholes. Now happily ever after was in the cards for Saje, and Gillian couldn’t be happier for her. Okay, so maybe she was a little jealous. “I thought we could share an Uber and head out. I’m exhausted.” She was just about to pack up her decks when Brooke stopped her by holding up her hand.

  “Not so fast, cuz. Let’s see what the cards have to say. I’d love to know if there’s anything in there about you and Mulroney.”

  Gillian hesitated with her hand on the deck. “Nice try, but I’d much rather focus on your love life. I’m sure it’s a lot more interesting.”

  “Fair enough.” Brooke smiled. “I know deflection when I see it. Go ahead, I’m always game for a reading.”

  Once she cut the deck, Gillian flipped a card and sucked in a breath. “The Vampire. I see him lurking in the background, but I can’t tell if he's a friend or foe.” As an intuitive, it was nearly impossible for Gillian to sugarcoat what she saw in the cards. Call it an uncanny ability to separate fact from fiction and get to the truth.

  “Interesting.” Brooke sat up straighter in her chair, her blue eyes wide. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense.” “What else do you see?” Her gift was in the realm of the zodiac, using astrology in her matchmaking business to set couples up. The look on her cousin’s face made her want to keep going.

  “One way to find out.” Gillian flipped over another one and her hand stilled. “The Fool. In most cases, it signifies a free spirit and innocence. That’s so you. But the reverse can mean getting taken advantage of.”

  Before Brooke could respond, a tall, good-looking vampire with jet black hair slicked back off his face walked up to the table and flashed a wide smile, showing the slightest hint of fangs. “Brooke? Is that you? You look gorgeous as always.” His cultured voice held a hint of an English accent. Most vampires had some sort of accent since they migrated to the US from other parts of the world. She had yet to meet one that was born here. “It’s great to see you.”

  “Hey, Kurt.” Brooke stood on her tiptoes to hug him, and he kissed both her cheeks. “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight. I want to introduce you to my cousin and the founder of Hope Club.” She turned toward Gillian and angled her head in the vampire’s direction. “Meet our corporate sponsor, Kurt Lawrence.”

  The vamp needed no introduction; just about everyone in the greater metropolitan area knew his name, unless they lived under a rock. Not only did he own and operate several businesses in the city from nightclubs to restaurants, but he was also a big time philanthropist. Despite being wealthy as sin, he still managed to give back by donating to numerous charities and sponsoring local events like this one. He’d been named one of New York’s most eligible bachelors in some gossip rag.

  “It’s great to finally meet you, Gillian.” When Kurt extended his hand to shake, a red signet ring on his pinky finger caught her eye. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Brooke.”

  “Oh? Then I promise none of its true,” Gillian said ruefully. “How did you two meet?”

  “I met Brooke on the charity circuit, and we realized pretty quickly that we had some mutual friends,” Kurt explained. His warm bemused tone affected Gillian in the way she suspected it did most women. He had quite the bedroom voice. “I was thrilled when she reached out to me. I’m always glad to help.”

  From his crisp white shirt and conservative navy suit, Gillian could picture Kurt sitting at the head of a conference table with a bunch of blue bloods trying to figure out the best tax shelters for their millions. “I bet you haven’t lent your name to anything as colorful as speed dating?”

  “I admit, this is a first, but speed dating sounds a lot more interesting than most of the benefits I do.” Kurt winked. “I’d love to hear more about it, and I’m sure some of my out of town colleagues would too. I’m headed up to the penthouse to meet some of them for a small get together. You two must join me. I can guarantee spectacular views of the skyline, a magnum of Cristal, and all the Beluga you can stand.”

  “How could we turn down an offer like that?” Brooke piped up.

  As much as Gillian should be jumping at the opportunity to network with a room full of movers and shakers, there was something about Kurt Lawrence that rubbed her the wrong way. Sure, he was rich…handsome, not to mention charming, but a little too smooth. Her mind drifted to Mulroney once more. Was he trying to give her a warning?

  “Gillian?” Her cousin arched one perfectly shaped brow at her in a silent plea.

  Nothing like being put on the spot. “Thanks for the invite, Kurt, but it’s getting late—”

  “Nonsense. It’s still early.” Kurt pulled a key card from the inside of his designer suit jacket and placed it in Brooke’s hand. “A private elevator gets you to the Wow Suite. I look forward to seeing both of you soon.” He placed a kiss on the back of Brooke’s hand and then disappeared in a blur of speed.

  “Before you say no, think about the connections Kurt has. There will be people up there who you could pitch your demo tape to.” A look of determination spread across Brooke’s face —one Gillian knew from experience. At this point, there was no stopping her cousin.

  “Look, I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it, but something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m all about networking, but doing it in a hotel room at midnight…” Gillian shook her head. “Not so much.”

  She’d recently auditioned for a spot at a local radio station for her show, a mix of psychic readings and love advice. Prepping for months, she was sure she’d nailed the interview, and they seemed genuinely stoked by the number of her followers. Then, without so much as an explanation, the station manager sent her an abrupt email passing on both her and the show. But Gillian had a strong sense that someone had leaked her being at the center of a criminal investigation—that someone being Detective Garrett Mulroney. She continued to send out both her resume and demo tape, but no responses yet.

  “I may have a personal stake in this. I’ve been waiting to get a meeting with Kurt Lawrence for months now. I read in Fortune that he took over some international dating service for elite singles, and let’s just say I’d like to be the experienced matchmaker on his speed dial. Besides, there will probably be a room full of handsome, wealthy vampires up there. I’m not letting this opportunity pass me by, and neither should you.” Brooke batted her eyelashes for effect.

  “That’s not the point.” Gillian shook her head. “What do you know about this guy? I don’t trust him.”

  “His reputation is pristine,” Brooke argued. “Do you think he got to where he is today by being a creep?”

  Gillian choked back her laugher. “Should I answer that with a straight face?”

  “Jeeze, stop being paranoid.” Brooke sat back down, slipped her heels on, and then stood. “I guess I’ll just have to go solo.”

  “Brooke, please—”

  “C’mon, Gillie, don’t make me do this alone.”

  There was a note of vulnerability in Brooke’s voice that tugged at Gillian’s heart. “I can see there’s no stopping you.” Maybe she was being paranoid. “Fine, we stay for one glass of ridiculously overpriced champagne, and then we’re out of there.”

  “Deal.”

  As promised, the view from the penthouse offered a breathtaking landscape of the New York City skyline. A cool autumn breeze brushed Gillian’s shoulders, and she shive
red, wishing she had remembered to bring a jacket. But then again she hadn’t planned on hanging out on the penthouse balcony at midnight.

  “I’ve always wondered how the undead live.” Gillian sipped her champagne and then set the flute on the ledge. She pulled the thin strap of her evening bag across her body before glancing over at Brooke, who stood beside her with a dreamy expression on her face.

  “I don’t know about you, but I could seriously get used to this.” Brooke took a sip from her flute and sighed. Everything was top shelf all the way, from the champagne to the caviar, which was being served by waitresses carrying gleaming silver trays along with chilled shots of Belvedere.

  But there was something else going on that Gillian couldn’t quite put her finger on, a sense of unease that pricked along her skin. Call it psychic intuition. She caught a glimpse of some of the women at the party through the sliding glass doors. They were all young and attractive—all paired off with vampires, not a human male or demon in sight. It was rumored that vampires preferred to stay within their elite circles, but Gillian had never actually witnessed it until now.

  Kurt appeared and placed a hand at the small of Brooke’s back. He whispered something in her ear that made her giggle. “I hope you two are enjoying yourselves. There are a few people I’d like to introduce you to, Damon Greystone being one of them. This is his party.” Kurt motioned to the people milling inside the suite. “He’s here somewhere.” Despite his looks and impeccable manners, there was certain smugness about the guy that seeped from his pores. It gave Gillian a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, and yet, for some strange reason Brooke didn’t seem to notice.

  “Lead the way.” Brooke trailed behind him. When Gillian didn’t follow, she stopped midstride and called to her over her shoulder. “Are you coming? Think of it as fodder for your listeners.”

  Brooke turned back to Kurt and motioned in Gillian’s direction. “Gillian has a podcast.”