Her expression cleared. “That’s how you knew that Beethoven piece.”
“Everybody knows that Beethoven piece.” When she flushed, he added, “Everybody who’s into classical music, that is. Hey, listen, I was going to call you. How ’bout I come work on that furnace this afternoon, if that’s all right with you.”
She beamed. “That’d be great!”
“I can bring your bike, too, when I come. I’ll just throw it in the back of the truck.” He indicated the pickup next to the garage. “How did you get here this morning?”
“I walked.”
His brows rose. “That’s quite a hike.”
“Oh, I love to walk. And it’s a gorgeous day.”
He gazed at her, knowing that a besotted look had settled onto his features. “Gorgeous,” he agreed.
She smiled. “I was thinking, when you’re done with the furnace, I could treat you to dinner. As a thank-you. I’m a pretty good cook.”
A gratified warmth spread throughout him. It was easy to say he didn’t want to get involved with someone who was leaving, but when faced with this amazing girl, it was getting too hard to say no.
“That sounds perfect.”
She nodded once, smiling, and turned to go. A second later she turned back. “Oh, and Sam? Could you also bring my dress when you come?”
He laughed. “No problem. I’ll send Duke over with it the minute it’s dry.”
Several hours later, Sam emerged from Gray’s basement, a bag in his hand and the heater humming, if not quietly at least effectively, behind him.
Gray turned from the stove where she was sautéing onions and couldn’t help grinning at the handsome, disheveled man before her.
“Have you exorcised my ghost?” she asked.
“That should be the last you hear of him.” He held aloft a bag full of clanking parts. “No more ghostly wailing. No more cigarette smoke. Do you think you’ll be lonely?”
“Hardly. Relieved is more like it. So how do you know how to do all that stuff?” She wiped her hands on the towel over her shoulder.
“Hey, you live in old houses long enough, you learn how old stuff works.” He leaned a hip against the counter. “That smells great. What is it?”
“We’re having shrimp scampi. I hope you like garlic.”
He grinned. “Only if you’re eating it, too.”
Gray blushed with pleasure. “It’s only fair.”
They stood there a moment, both wearing dopey smiles and goggling at each other, before Sam said, “So, you mind if I take a shower?”
“Oh no, not at all. The bathroom’s at the top of the stairs.”
“Great.” He dropped the bag on the counter and headed for the stairs, leaving Gray to cook and think about the naked man being caressed by warm soapy water not fifteen feet above her.
It was only about ten minutes later when Sam called down to her.
She moved to the bottom of the steps and saw his wet head poking out of the steamy bathroom. “Need someone to wash your back?” she teased.
That fabulous smile overtook his face again. “Actually, I was looking for a towel, but if you’re offering…?”
She started up the stairs. Ah, the temptation. The linen closet was right next to the bathroom, and he watched as she retrieved a clean towel and handed it to him.
He took it with one hand, his fingers covering hers on the terry cloth, and pulled her closer, the door shielding all but his head and one shoulder. He kissed her, damply but chastely, and smiled. “Thank you.”
Her gaze caught and held his. “You’re welcome.”
They stared at each other a long moment, then both leaned simultaneously in for another kiss.
Feeling gutsy, as was so easy with this guy, Gray pushed the door wider with one hand and stepped into his embrace. Sam deepened the kiss, pulling her close to his wet body, the length of it hard against Gray’s. She felt his arousal stiffen against her and pushed her hips into his. Her hands held his head, fingers woven through the wet tendrils of his hair.
Heat fired between them, and it wasn’t just because of the hot shower. Sam’s hands rode down her back, then around her waist and beneath her shirt.
Gray let her fingers run down his ribs and around his hips to the hard evidence of his desire. “Let’s go into the bedroom.”
Sam pulled back. Gray had just enough time to worry that he might refuse, when he smiled, and said, “Lead the way.”
They fell onto the bed in a flurry of passion. He pushed at her shirt until she sat up and pulled it swiftly over her head. Sam went for the button on her pants, and a second later she was naked.
“Incredible,” he exhaled.
Gray thought the same thing as she pushed him back onto the bed and lay her body over his, flesh against flesh, the delicious sensation of one body meeting another for the first time. He had the physique of an athlete. Her hands covered his pectorals while his reached up and touched her hair where it cascaded toward her breasts.
“You are…” he breathed, but he didn’t complete the sentence as Gray cupped his hardness and stroked.
He inhaled sharply. “My God.”
She smiled, and his hands moved over her breasts, across her ribs and stomach. One hand tucked itself between her and where she rested atop his hips, his finger immediately finding her center.
She bit her bottom lip. Oh, she needed him. Now. She felt none of her usual inhibition, required none of the usual coaxing to bring the act to fruition. All she felt was hot, naked hunger.
She propped herself up on her knees and his fingers dove inside. She gasped, then sighed, her hands caressing the evidence of his desire.
“I…let’s…” She couldn’t form the words, but her hand directed him toward her heat.
“Jeez,” he exhaled. Then added, “Have you got…?”
She reached over toward the bedside table and opened the drawer. She had just put the condoms in that morning, hoping for this occasion but doubting it would actually happen.
He rolled slightly and took the tiny envelope from her. As he moved, she had the opportunity to note just how well muscled he was, despite being lean. He fumbled with the wrapper, then tore it open with his teeth.
Gray laughed, and a second later his hand was back on her and her head began to spin.
He donned the condom in one swift move, then pulled her decisively over him. She wavered just a second. But when she saw him tilt his head at her hesitation, felt him stroke her thigh like a filly that needed calming, she gave a small smile and rose up to cover him.
She came down slowly, causing them both to moan with pleasure. But before she could turn up the pace, he’d caught her around the waist and flipped them so that she was on the bottom.
“I want to look at you.” His eyes were intense upon her face. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
With that he took her, long and hard, answering her need with his own, her impassioned cries, her clutching hands and gripping legs, with his hunger and need and power. Just as Gray was arching into him, splitting into a thousand spectacular pieces of satisfied desire, he thrust one final time, his arms trembling where they held him above her, and made a sound of release.
Then he lay alongside her, his body warm and enveloping, holding her close.
They’d been silent a while when Gray asked, in a small voice, “Why didn’t you stay last night?”
She felt the breath leave his chest in a sigh. “I thought…I was worried…the truth is, Gray, I was afraid you were just the type of girl I could fall for. And you’re only here for the summer. I wasn’t sure about getting involved.”
She propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him quizzically. “And now, what? You’ve decided I’m not the kind of girl you could fall for?”
He laughed, and his gaze skittered away. “No.” He exhaled again and met her eyes. “Now I realize that I’ve already fallen. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”
She laid
her head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to sound so dire about it.”
He laughed, and she could hear it in his chest.
“To tell you the truth,” she said hesitantly, “I’m not altogether sure what my plans for the future are. When I left home, I thought if things worked out here, I’d stay. I have the summer off to decide, but…” She shrugged. “If a teaching opportunity came along, I’d be interested.”
Sam raised his head and looked down at her. “Really?”
She raised her eyes. “Yeah.”
He grinned. “If that’s the case, you should talk to Covington.”
“Covington! What on earth for?” She propped herself up on one elbow again.
“He’s head of the school board. He’ll know about jobs, and he might even recommend you. He was nicer to you the other night than I’ve ever seen him.”
“That was nice?” She frowned. “He’s a strange little man.”
Sam laughed. “You don’t know the half of it.”
They got out of bed and headed back toward the kitchen, Gray feeling lighter and more confident about the future than she’d felt in a long, long time. “I hope you’re hungry,” she said.
Sam grabbed her around the waist as she turned the heat back on under the pan on the stove. “Always.”
She laughed and turned to kiss him.
“Gray Gilliam, I am very happy to have found you.”
“And I you,” she agreed. “Not just because you fixed my furnace and rid my house of a ghost, either.”
They smiled at each other and kissed once more before a scratching at the back door made them both jump.
“Who could that be?” Gray wondered.
Sam moved to the mudroom and opened the back door. In trotted Duke, tail aloft and a wide grin on his canine face.
“The Duke who came to dinner!” Gray laughed.
Sam reached down to pet the dog, then straightened, expression suddenly alert. His eyes scanned the walls and the ceiling.
“What is it?” she asked. Then, with a sniff, she froze.
Sam turned in a circle, nose in the air, and faced her.
At the same time, with identical incredulous smiles, they said, “Do you smell pipe smoke?”
About Elaine Fox
ELAINE FOX grew up in Maryland in a family of avid readers and talented writers. After receiving her B.A. in English, she spent several years working in academic and corporate environments before deciding to pursue her dream of writing a book. Fox is now the USA Today bestselling author of fifteen contemporary and historical romances and four anthologies. She lives in Virginia, where she is currently at work on her next book.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Devil to Pay
Jeaniene Frost
Chapter One
As soon as Blake saw the men, he knew tonight would end with death. The problem was, Blake didn’t think it would end with his death.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he said, realizing the stupidity of those words. It was after midnight, he was in a derelict alley with three thousand dollars’ worth of crack cocaine on him—and that was the good news.
“You lost?” one of the men asked, coming closer.
The other three from the opposite end of the alley drew closer, too. There was no way out. Blake could feel him rouse, sensing the danger. He didn’t have much time.
“You need to leave,” Blake said, fear setting in as he felt that familiar buzzing start in his head.
Another of them laughed. “Give us those bags you just bought, bitch, and we’ll leave.”
For a split second, Blake hesitated. He’d bought the crack with the last of his money, and he needed it. Not because he was an addict; Blake had never touched drugs in his life. No, he’d intended his first use to be the last thing he ever did.
But that buzzing in his head was getting louder. No. Not yet. Not until I can get away from these people…
“Take it and leave me alone,” Blake ground out, yanking the bags from his coat.
One of them took the bags, then shoved Blake. He staggered and fell, tasting blood as his mouth banged against a fire escape.
That rustling in his head got louder. It was too late.
“Kill me,” Blake gasped.
Confusion was stamped on the faces peering at him. “He crazy,” someone muttered.
Blake glanced around. No one had a gun or knife drawn. This was a dark, gang-infested alley in Columbia Heights, DC. Couldn’t one of them stab him or shoot him?
Blake began to yell the most incendiary thing he could think of. “What’re you standing there looking at? You recognize me from last night, when I was fucking your mother?”
“Oh, hell no,” one of them said.
They surrounded Blake, kicking him. Blake twisted, making no move to defend himself. Instead, he arched toward the blows. Fear rose, but not of dying.
Break my neck, Blake thought savagely. Or take a pipe and smash my head open!
They didn’t, though one of them did smash his foot into Blake’s face, breaking his nose. Blake coughed up blood even as his whole body clenched. He was almost here. Blake tried to force him back, but he was too strong.
“What’s the matter with you?” Blake roared with his last ounce of strength. “Kill me!”
A hard kick snapped Blake’s head back before his world went white. For a brief, blissful moment, Blake thought he’d finally gotten to die, and he felt overwhelming relief .
But when Blake came back to reality, there was blood everywhere. A few people were gathered at the end of the alley. Blake didn’t know how long they’d been standing there, but their eyes were wild, faces chalky with shock. They’d probably never seen anything like this, even there, in one of the worst parts of the District.
Blake let out a howl of despair as he stared at the thick red blood coating his hands and the bodies around him. Damn you, he silently screamed at the monster inside him. Damn you to hell!
But that was the problem. Hell was where the devil inside Blake came from.
Elise’s living room began to shake, but she barely noticed it. She was so used to the vibrations every time a train zoomed by that it was more attention-grabbing when there were extended periods of calm.
The fifties song “Jump, Jive and Wail” played on her iPod, a recent gift from her sire, Mencheres. Elise would have continued to listen to music on her records, no matter how many times the trains made the needle jump and scratch them, but one of Mencheres’s most common lectures was to embrace the changing world. Some vampires, as they got older, withdrew from society and became hermitlike, clinging to the things from their original time period. Eventually those vampires could become so disconnected that hatred for the ever-advancing world was a side effect.
Elise was already a loner. She lived under a metro tunnel, didn’t socialize much with other vampires or humans, and far preferred big-band music to the noise on the radio these days. All things considered, Mencheres had reason to be concerned about her sliding down that hermit road, but she didn’t hate the modern world or its changes. She was just happier by herself.
More shaking of the walls announced the arrival of the six-fifteen train. Elise put her book down with a sigh. Time to shower and eat, activities that required her to leave her comfortable home.
She put on a tank top and pants, adding a jacket over that in spite of the warm temperature outside. Fewer clothes meant more attention, and Elise wanted to talk to as few people as possible. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, put on a baseball cap, and opened the creaking metal door.
A blast of smells hit her as she went into the tunnels that connected the defunct section where she lived to the operating metro tunnels above. At least she didn’t need to breathe; the residual odors from the indigent who used these places as a temporary residence and bathroom, combined with the stench of rotted food, dead rats, or other animals—were bad enough.
&
nbsp; The few homeless people who were in the tunnels at that hour didn’t look at Elise as she walked by. Every so often, a newcomer would approach her. One who hadn’t been warned about her by the others, or who hadn’t listened. Elise didn’t feed from any curious newcomers—smelling them was bad enough—she just slammed them with the power in her gaze and compelled them to leave her alone. If one was stupid enough to attack her, well…that person didn’t live long enough to regret it.
Tonight it was only the regulars, so Elise passed by without incident. She walked out of the tunnel and through the station platform, keeping her head down, not needing to look to know the way. It was so familiar to her, she could have made the trip in her sleep.
Once free of the closeted atmosphere, Elise’s steps became longer and more relaxed. She even hummed as she made her way down Connecticut Avenue to the fitness club. The girl behind the counter barely glanced at Elise when she came inside, but a nod indicated that Elise didn’t need to show her membership card. She was such a regular sight there, few employees asked to see it anymore.
Elise went upstairs to the multitude of exercise machines. Her size would never be any different than it was now, but the club employees asked too many questions if she didn’t at least pretend to exercise. After twenty minutes on the treadmill, Elise went to the locker room. She stripped and showered, then brushed her teeth with the toothbrush she kept with a few other items in a locker. After a quick blow-dry of her hair, she was ready to move on to the next item in her routine.
Some nights, when Elise was lucky, she fed from whoever was alone in the locker room. It only took a flash of her gaze for the woman to forget Elise had just cornered her and drunk her blood. But most evenings were busy at the gym. It was easier for Elise to walk the city, and find someone alone—or accompanied by fewer witnesses to brainwash.
Tonight, Elise found her meal along 7th Street, a young man who wandered away from his friends in the Sculpture Garden. She drank from him, closed the holes with a drop of her own blood, and sent him back to his companions inside of two minutes. He’d be sleepier from the pint she drained from him but otherwise unharmed. It was only in the movies that vampires needed to kill to feed, along with other falsehoods like wooden stakes and sunlight being harmful to them.
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