His hands curled into tight fists as he watched her cross the street. More than anything, he wanted to go to her, to take her in his arms and hold her, for just a moment. But he stayed where he was, knowing it would only cause them both pain.
Jason's eyes narrowed when he saw three dark shadows disengage themselves from a doorway and follow Leanne into the parking lot.
He lost sight of her as she turned the corner. And then he heard her scream.
In an instant, he was across the street. He took in the scene at a glance – one of the men was fondling Leanne while the other two rummaged through her handbag. Silent as a shadow, Jason's hands closed around the throat of the thug holding Leanne. The man's choked cry alerted his companions and they whirled around to face him. One held a knife; the other a pistol.
Jason heard Leanne scream his name as the gunman fired three times in quick succession. Oblivious to the impact of the bullets, Jason tossed the first man aside, then lunged forward, a hand locking around the neck of each of the assailants. Slowly, so slowly, his fingers tightened around their throats. He would have broken their necks without a qualm if Leanne had not been there. The sound of her sobs penetrated the dark red mist that hovered in front of his eyes. With a muttered curse, he released the men. They fell in a soundless heap at his feet.
"Jason!" Leanne ran toward him, her face pale, her eyes wide with fright.
"I'm all right." His gaze moved over her in a quick assessing glance. "Did they hurt you?"
"No." She stared at the bullet holes in his coat. Unable to believe her eyes, she touched each one with her fingertips, then looked up at him, her face as pale as the moon.
Hating himself because he had to deceive her, he fixed her with his hypnotic gaze, willing her to forget that the man had fired his gun, to remember only that he had come to her rescue. He left her spellbound while he went to his car, removed his coat, and replaced it with a jacket he had left in the back seat.
Returning to her side, Jason released her from his spell.
"Come," he said, taking the keys from her hand. "I'll drive you home."
Leanne blinked up at him, then glanced at the three men sprawled on the pavement. "What about them?"
"Leave them."
"Aren't you going to arrest them?"
"No, I'm going to take you home."
"But..."
"Very well. Let's go back to the theater. We can call from there."
Twenty minutes later, a black and white pulled into the parking lot. After the three suspects were handcuffed and tucked into the back seat of the patrol car, Leanne gave the officers her name and address and told them what had happened. Jason corroborated her story.
The police officer who took Jason's statement frowned as he examined the gun. "This weapon's been fired," he remarked, opening the chamber. "Three rounds."
"I don't remember any gunshots," Leanne said, looking from the police officer to Jason. "Do you?"
Jason shook his head. "No."
The cop scribbled something in his notebook, thanked Leanne for her time, advised her to be more careful in the future, assured her they would get in touch with her if they needed more information, and bid the two of them goodnight.
"I've never been so scared," Leanne whispered, and as the knowledge of what could have happened hit her, she began to tremble uncontrollably.
"It's over," Jason said, wrapping her in his arms. "Don't think about it."
"I can't help it. I know this kind of thing happens all the time, but I never thought it would happen to me."
He nodded. "Come on, let's get out of here." Keeping one arm around her shoulders, he unlocked her car door and helped her inside, then went around to the driver's side.
"What about your car?" she asked.
"I'll get it tomorrow."
After he pulled out of the parking lot, Jason took Leanne's hand in his and held it tight.
"Jason, could I spend the night at your place? I don't want to be alone."
Not a good idea, he thought, but he didn't have the heart to refuse her. "Sure."
"We could go to my place, if you'd rather."
"My place is fine."
Sighing, she rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, they were pulling into Jason's driveway.
She was still trembling when she got out of the car. "Nerves, I guess," she murmured, then gasped as Jason swung her into his arms and carried her swiftly up the stairs and into the house.
Inside, he placed her on the sofa and poured her a glass of chardonnay, then went into the bathroom to fill the tub with hot water.
"You'll feel better after you've had a bath," he said, taking the empty glass from her hand.
With a nod, she went into the bathroom and shut the door. A good hot soak was just what she needed. Undressing, she sank into the tub, willing herself to relax, to forget the terror that had engulfed her. She could have been robbed. She could have been killed.
Reaching for the soap, she washed vigorously, knowing she would never wash away the fear, or the vile memory of being touched by an unwanted hand. Thank God for Jason, she mused, and never thought to question what he had been doing in the parking lot.
Jason paced the floor in the living room, his keen hearing easily identifying the sounds Leanne made as she undressed, then stepped into the tub. It was so easy to picture her lying there, the water moving over her, caressing her, as he so longed to do...
With an oath, he threw his wine glass into the fireplace, feeling a sense of satisfaction as the glass shattered, falling onto the stone hearth in a shower of glittering crystal shards. If only he could destroy his accursed need with such ease.
He prowled the room, his fists shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his desire clawing at him with each step. So easy, he thought, so easy to take her, to make her his, to bind her to him forever, body and soul.
The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed in his mind like thunder.
Leanne gasped as Jason whirled around to face her. The heat in his eyes seemed to engulf her so that she felt suddenly hot all over, as though she were standing in front of a blazing fire.
"Feeling better?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you." She smiled faintly, wondering if she had imagined the unnatural red glow in his eyes.
"Would you care for more wine?"
"No. I..."
"What is it?"
"I'm awfully tired. Would you mind if I went to bed?"
"Of course not. You won't be comfortable sleeping in your clothes."
A faint flush brightened her cheeks. "I don't have anything else."
"I'll get you something."
He went into the bedroom, his gaze lingering on the bed. He had lived in this house for twenty years, he mused, and no one had ever slept in that bed. It pleased him to think of Leanne lying there, her hair spread on the pillow, her scent permeating the sheets, the very air he breathed.
Going to the dresser, he opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a green silk nightgown. He had bought it because the color reminded him of her eyes, because for one irrational moment, he had pretended he was an ordinary man buying a gift for the special lady in his life. He had bought it and put it away, as he had put away his dreams of sharing her life. Holding the gown in his hands, he was reminded of the silk of her hair, the softness of her satin-smooth skin.
"Is that for me?"
He turned to see that Leanne had followed him as far as the bedroom doorway.
He lifted one brow. "Who else would it be for?"
"I thought..." Lifting her chin, she took a deep breath. "When you sent me away, I… You stopped coming to the theater, I thought you might have found someone else."
He shook his head. "There will never be anyone else, Leanne."
"Then why? Why did you send me away? Why haven't you come to see me? Did I do something wrong?"
"No." He thrust the gown into her hands, then left the room,
firmly closing the door behind him. He never should have brought her here, never agreed to let her spend the night.
He stood in the living room in front of the fireplace, fighting the urge to go to her, to sweep her into his arms and satisfy the awful lust that was roaring through him, the lust to possess her, to drink and drink of her life-sustaining sweetness, and then give it back to her.
She was a beautiful woman. She would be even more stunning as a vampire. The Dark Gift would magnify the deep green of her eyes, add luster to her hair and skin.
He clenched his hands into tight fists, wondering if he had the strength to continue seeing her and not possess her. He knew, at the very core of his being, that their joining would be everything he dreamed of, everything he yearned for.
It would be so easy to take her blood, to bind her to him for all eternity, and end the awful loneliness of his existence, but he recoiled at the very idea of condemning her to the kind of life he led. To do so would be the worst kind of betrayal. Leanne was youth and beauty, a child of the light. She had brought laughter back into his life, had drawn him out of the depths of despair and given him a reason to rise in the evening. To condemn her to a life in the shadows would be the worst kind of cruelty.
He should send her away now, for her own good, before it became impossible to let her go, but even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew he would not do it. Soon, he thought, soon he would leave Los Angeles and never see her again, but not now, when he had just found her. He only hoped he was strong enough to keep his accursed hunger at bay, that there was enough humanity left in his soul to leave her when the time came.
His whole body tensed as the bedroom door opened. Without looking, he knew she was standing behind him, watching him. He could feel her gaze on his back, sense her confusion.
"Jason?"
"Go to bed, Leanne." He had not meant the words to sound so harsh.
He sensed her hesitation, her hurt, and then, very quietly, she went back into the bedroom and closed the door.
With a sigh, Jason dropped into his favorite chair and buried his face in his hands, hands that trembled with the need to hold her close, to feel the warmth of her in his arms, to breathe in the scent of her hair and skin. She was so full of life, so vibrant, just holding her made him feel alive again. But it wasn't only her flesh which called to him, and that was why he had to let her go, before it was too late.
He didn't know how long he'd sat there, staring into nothingness, when he heard her cry out.
Chapter 6
Bolting from the chair, Jason ran into the bedroom, ready to do battle with Satan himself if need be. But there was no one in the room except Leanne, tossing restlessly on the bed.
Her hair spread across the pillow like chocolate silk. She had thrown off the covers and the gown's full skirt pooled around her thighs, offering him a beguiling glimpse of shapely calves.
Another cry was torn from her throat and he saw a tear slip down her cheek.
Before he quite realized what he was doing, Jason was at her side, gathering her into his arms. "Hush, love," he murmured. "It was only a dream, a bad dream."
"Jason?"
"I'm here."
She wrapped her arms around his neck. "It was awful," she said, her voice husky with sleep. "I was dreaming about tonight, but it was worse, much worse." She drew back, her gaze seeking his. "That horrible man shot you."
He shook his head. "No."
"Yes!" She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. "I saw it so clearly. It couldn't have been a dream."
"But it was," he said reassuringly. "Look." He lifted his shirt so she could see his chest. "You see? No bullet holes."
"But I saw it, I know I did. I heard the gunshots..."
He settled her in his lap and rocked her gently. "Go back to sleep, Leanne. Everything is all right."
"Is it?" Sighing, she rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. "You feel so cold."
Unable to help himself, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, willing her to relax, to sleep, to forget.
"I love you, Jason," she murmured drowsily. "Please don't leave me again."
He closed his eyes, her words pouring over him like hot August sunshine. She loved him.
It was a dream come true.
It was his worst nightmare.
"Promise me," she whispered. "Promise you'll never leave me."
Ah, Leanne, my love, if you only knew what you were asking of me. If you only knew how your nearness torments and tempts me. If you only knew how long, and how lonely, forever can be.
She pulled back a little so she could see his face, her eyes searching his. "You don't love me, do you?"
He looked away, unable to bear the sight of the pain shimmering in the depths of her eyes. Love her, he thought, if only he didn't!
A single tear slipped down her cheek. It was his undoing.
"I do love you, Leanne."
"You mean it?"
"I swear it by all that I hold dear." The words were wrenched from the depths of his soul. "Please, do not weep. I cannot bear the sight of your tears."
"Oh, Jason!" She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, kissed him until they were both breathless.
She was fire and honey in his arms. All his senses came alive until he was drunk with the taste of her lips, the scent of her flesh, the sound of her whispered endearments. He trembled, his body hardening with desire. The need to nourish himself with the very essence of her life burned through him, as potent, as strong, as his desire for her flesh.
He groaned deep in his throat as her body molded itself to his. Her tongue laved the lobe of his ear, his neck; her hands explored the length and breadth of his back and shoulders, then boldly explored his thigh, her fingertips tracing the muscle there.
"Leanne." He caught her hands in his and willed his body to relax, knowing that in another moment his desire and his lust for blood would be impossible to control.
"It's all right," she said, her eyes shining with love and trust. "I want you to make love to me."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Why not? What possible excuse could he give her? "I don't have any... any..." Hell's bells, what did they call those things? "Any protection."
"I don't care."
He summoned a tight smile. "I do."
"I don't have any diseases, Jason," she said quietly. "I've never been with a man before."
He swore softly, his self-control hovering on the brink of collapse. "All the more reason why we should wait."
Maybe he was right, she thought, though she couldn't help being disappointed. Her mother had always taught her that good girls didn't "do it" until they were married. Her father, a wise and sober man blessed with the gift of sight, had warned her that, if she let herself be defiled before marriage, her life would be in great danger. When Leanne asked him to explain, her father had taken her in his arms and told her that he'd had a most disturbing vision of her future – a vision in which he had seen her surrounded by darkness and danger, protected only by her innocence. And then he had warned her that if she gave herself to the wrong man, she risked the chance of being forever cursed.
Thinking of that now, she was ashamed of her own weakness and doubly grateful for Jason's self-control.
"If I promise to behave, do you think you could stay with me until I fall asleep?"
With a nod, he drew the covers up to her chin, his expression solemn, and then he sat beside her, one of her hands holding tight to his.
She smiled up at him and then, tucking his free hand under her cheek, she closed her eyes.
He sat there, listening to the soft sound of her breathing, aware of her fingers entwined with his, of her cheek nestled in the palm of his hand. Her warm womanly scent filled his nostrils. The steady beat of her heart made sweet music in his ears even as it teased his hunger.
It was both pain and pleasure to sit so close to her. He would have liked to stay until she woke, to be
the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes, but all too soon he sensed the approach of a new day. Freeing his hands, he brushed a kiss across her lips and then, regretfully, left the room.
In the kitchen, he wrote her a note, saying he had been called to work early, and he would see her at the theater that night. He invited her to stay as long as she liked, to take Lucifer out for a ride if she was inclined to do so. He dropped the keys to her car on top of the note, and then, his steps growing heavier by the moment, he made his way down to the basement.
He closed the door behind him, slipped the bolt into place, and then wrapped himself in the quilt. Sighing, he closed his eyes.
The slow, steady beat of her heart lulled him to sleep.
* * *
Leanne woke with a smile on her face. Jason loved her. She stretched her arms over her head, feeling as contented as a well-fed cat. He loved her.
And she couldn't wait to see him. Bounding out of bed, she hurried out of the room. She had expected to find him in the kitchen and when he wasn't there, she checked the other bedroom. It, too, was empty.
Shrugging, she went back into the kitchen. She would fix herself something to eat, shower, and then go home. It was then that she saw the note.
She read it quickly and then, clutching the slip of paper in her hand, she glanced around the kitchen. She had been looking forward to cooking breakfast for Jason. It would have been the first time they had spent a day together, the first meal they had shared. She'd wanted to spend as much time as she could with him before it was time to go home and get ready for the theater.
With an effort, she shrugged off her disappointment. If she was going to be in love with a cop, she supposed this was the kind of thing she would have to get used to. Police officers worked irregular hours. They were on call twenty-four hours a day. They missed birthday parties, and Christmas mornings, and anniversaries. They worked long hours for little pay. And these days, when law officers were being maligned and criticized more than ever, a cop needed the support of his loved ones.
Crossing the floor, she opened one of the cupboards. It was empty. So was the next one, and the next. Frowning, she opened the refrigerator. Nothing.
Masquerade Page 4