Love Bites UK (Mammoth Book Of Vampire Romance2)

by Telep, Trisha

  Maddie took a deep breath and smiled. She didn’t know what it was going to take, or how she was going to do it, but this was it. She belonged here. This store was going to be hers.

  “Hello,” a soft baritone said from somewhere above her.

  Maddie looked over to the left of the room where a staircase arched up. There, in the middle of the staircase, stood a man.

  Tall, wide shoulders, lean. His black and grey hair was a little longer than was fashionable, his moustache and beard trimmed tight around his lips and shaved clean along his jaw. He smiled. Laugh lines curved at the edges of his eyes, hooked the corners of his lips, and set his age at somewhere around old-enough-to-have-tried-it-all and young-enough-to-do-it-again.

  His wore a dark green sweater, rucked up at the elbows, his muscular forearms bare. No watch. No ring. Yes, she looked.

  She also looked at the sweater. Handmade, cabled in a complicated Celtic knot up the arms where it wove like vines across his wide chest. Slacks for his long legs. But a pair of those deck shoes the skater kids liked to wear made her rethink his age again. Thirty? Fifty?

  He waited, not moving, while Maddie took what she realized was a little too long to stare at him.

  OK, a lot too long.

  Forget the young ’uns. One look at this man had her wanting to stroke and savour a lot more than yarn.

  “Come in,” he said. “You are welcome. Most welcome. Are you here for the class?” He said it slowly. She walked towards him, paying absolutely zero attention to where she was going, each word drawing her in, closer and closer, until she bumped her knee into the arm of the love seat.

  A rush of blood heated her cheeks. That got an even wider smile out of him. He showed his teeth, straight, white, strong, the incisors pressing into the soft flesh of his bottom lip.

  Sexy.

  What was wrong with her? She never acted like this.

  He strolled down the stairs, paying particular attention to his shoes.

  Released from his gaze, she found her voice again. And her brain. “Class?” she asked.

  “Mmm,” he agreed. “Knitting. No need to have brought supplies.”

  He crossed the room, moving like a cat. He paused beside the love seat and rested one hip against it, his arms crossed over his wide chest. He was so close, she could smell his cologne. Something with enough rum and spice to remind her of the Jamaican vacation she’d taken just out of college. The one time in her life she had really felt free and alive. Every day she had let the sun drink her down, and every night she had let the darkness, and the passion of a man feed her soul.

  In all these years, she had never once thought of that man, that pleasure. She couldn’t even remember his name. How could she have forgotten that? And how could the scent of this man’s cologne bring those memories back to her?

  He looked into her eyes, smiling, enjoying his effect on her. “We have everything you could possibly desire here.”

  He means knitting, she told herself. He means yarn. Still, the opportunity was too good to pass up.“Everything?” she asked. “I have an insatiable appetite for fine fibres.”

  A small frown narrowed his eyes, and he studied her face.

  “Have we met?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “I’m sure we haven’t. I would remember you.”

  His response was cut off by the sound of the door opening behind her. A group of people, chatting, laughing, paused in the doorway.

  The man in front of her gazed over her shoulder. He still smiled, but his demeanour shifted to the look of someone tolerating a pack of puppies wrestling over a toy.

  “Dobry vecher, Saint Archer,” a younger man’s voice called out.

  “Saint?” Maddie said.

  “Good evening, Luka,” the man in front of her said. “Come in, all of you. Welcome.” To Maddie, “Please. Call me Archer. And your name?”

  “Maddie,” she said. “Madeline Summers.”

  Archer raised one eyebrow as if he hadn’t heard her correctly, but Maddie had to move out of the way for the newcomers filing into the shop.

  Luka, thin, young, beautiful, had that teen heart-throb smoulder going, marred only by his polo shirt uniform with the emblem of the local movie theatre over his heart and sleeve. He smiled at her, looked at Archer as if they were sharing a secret, then away.

  Father and son?

  No, Luka was an angel boy – light-haired, dark-eyed, while Archer was dark-haired, blue-eyed. Plus, Luka had delicate features, while Archer’s wide shoulders and nose (which looked like it had been broken at least once) spoke of a different heritage.

  Next to Luka was a girl who probably still went to high school. Her black hair shifted with stripes of pink and red like pulled taffy. Cute. Another, slightly heavier girl wore a gorgeous knitted beret and matching scarf. She held up a hand in wordless greeting as they tromped off across the room, heading towards the stairs.

  “My apologies,” Archer said. “For the children. They can be rambunctious.”

  “Are they yours?” she asked.

  “Oh, no.” He chuckled. “Students. They come here to knit.”

  “There’s a class tonight? Now? I only came to look—”

  “And why not stay?” he asked. “For the time we have. Tonight.”

  That was familiar. A voice she had heard in her dreams.

  “I haven’t put my hands on balls for years. Of yarn,” she corrected, “on a ball of yarn for years. I just came to touch them, not to do, you know.” She made a fake knitting motion with her fingers, which only came off looking obscene.

  God, she hated it when she went into idiot mode.

  He took a step forwards, and she was struck by how tall he was.

  “What is there to lose?” he asked softly. “Some things, our bodies never forget.”

  This time, Maddie managed to look away from his smouldering gaze. “Like knitting?”

  “That too.”

  She grinned and looked up at him. “So how long is the class?”

  “An hour. Sometimes people linger. Will you?”

  “Stay for the class?” she asked.

  “Linger.”

  She couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be. Certainly not hanging out in the bar while she watched Jan find boys half her age to buy her drinks. It was quiet here, except for the students upstairs laughing and arguing over a movie they’d just seen. It was comfortable here. And she liked the look in Archer’s eyes as he pulled out all his manly charms to lure her into his knitting lair.

  “I’ll give it a try.”

  “Excellent.” He looked happy, and something more – relieved. “Let me gather a few things. I’ll follow you upstairs in a moment.”

  Maddie walked around the love seats and over to the stairs. Just as she reached the first step, the door opened again and two more women, women closer to her age, no, she realized with a wince, younger, maybe even still in their twenties, walked into the store. They greeted Archer warmly. Maddie bit her bottom lip, wondering if he was going to lay the charm on thick with them too, if maybe him flirting with her was just an act he used to lure in the female clientele.

  Oh, he was a charmer all right. Kissing them both on the cheek and holding their hands just a little too long while complimenting them.

  Great, Maddie thought. He’d been playing her – that was all. She’d been suckered in by a guy who flirted with every woman who walked through the door. And she’d actually believed him. She must have looked like an idiot. How could she have been so stupid?

  Or maybe she was just that desperate not to be alone, even for only one night.

  She almost turned around and left, but she had come here looking for the owner of the shop, and she wasn’t going to leave without her name.

  The room upstairs was filled with skeins of yarn and cosy couches. It also had a small kitchen nook where a pot of coffee and tea was set out. The teens were clumped together on a couch too small for the three of them. To her surprise, they wer
e already knitting. Even the angel boy Luka had needles in his hands and was quickly working his way through a lace-patterned shawl in blood red fingering weight.

  When Maddie was young, there wasn’t a boy in a fifty-mile radius who would lay a finger on knitting needles, much less knit in front of his girlfriends. Although with the way the girls, especially the one with the multi-coloured hair, looked at him, Luka had a good thing going.

  He caught Maddie looking at him and grinned, showing a row of straight teeth, his canines just a little too long, his eyes just a little too old in that young face. A chill ran up her spine. She rubbed her arms and walked away from the couches to a row of shelves with skeins of bamboo and silk yarn.

  She got in a fondle or two, savouring textures and colours, feeding her senses through fingertips and eyes. Why had she stopped knitting? Probably the same reason she had stopped taking hikes, going to concerts, eating at fine restaurants. Somewhere in her battle to make her body her own again, she had lost touch with living in it.

  No more of that. Her new life started tonight. With the owner’s name.

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs punctuated the teen chatter, and soon the two other women were in the room, taking their places in cushioned armchairs, and setting their knitting bags – more like stylish purses than grandmotherly baskets – by their feet.

  She wondered which of them was the teacher.

  Then Archer climbed the stairs. She could feel him, every step he took, like an extra heartbeat in her chest, a pulse in her veins. She could feel him drawing near even though she kept her back stubbornly towards the stairs and her fingers plunged deep in the silky softness of a pliant skein of cashmere. She held on to that skein of yarn like it was her only anchor to her own resolve.

  And it was. Jan was right. It had been a long time since she had been with a man. Much, much too long.

  Archer paused at the top of the stairs. She could feel him looking at her, watching her, a warm pressure against her skin that made every nerve in her body remind her she was alive.

  Was it getting hot in here?

  “I think this is everyone,” he said. “Maddie, are you ready to join us?”

  This was it, her chance to make a break.

  She turned away from the shelf. No eye contact this time, that man had some kind of power in his gaze. She stared very solidly at the middle of his forehead.

  “I can’t. I . . . I have a date.”

  Even though she stubbornly stared at his forehead, she could see the rise of his cheeks as he smiled.

  “Ah. I see. I’m sorry you won’t be able to stay.”

  Maddie nodded, gaze on the forehead and forehead only. So far, so good.

  Archer, apparently, had not gotten the memo that she was avoiding eye contact. He strolled over to her, his shoes quiet on the plush rugs scattered across the floor.

  Without trying to, Maddie’s eyes slipped, shifted, and her gaze met his. Her lips parted, and all she could think of was him kissing her, touching her.

  “I hope you will reconsider my offer,” he said.

  Then the powerful gaze and the mind-numbing draw were gone. He looked like a man, a very handsome man, but just a man. A little concerned, maybe a little uncomfortable. Vulnerable.

  He pressed the handle of a small paper bag into her hands. “A token. If you ever wish to stop in again.”

  “No, no. I don’t think—”

  He stepped back, quickly and smoothly out of her reach, so she’d have to follow him around the couches to give him back the bag.

  That was when she noticed everyone in the room was silent, knitting. They were all smiling. Enjoying this. None of them looked at her, but she could tell they all thought this little exchange was funny. Fine. She’d come back tomorrow and get her answer. Let them have their laugh.

  “Thank you,” she said, pouring on the sugar, and not meaning a word of it. “It’s been lovely meeting you all.”

  She walked down the stairs without stomping, and stormed across the floor. All she had wanted was some time to browse, and maybe a chance to buy the store. Was that too much to ask?

  She yanked the door open, and nearly ran into the woman standing there.

  “May I come in?” The woman was beautiful. Even when Maddie was young and in great shape, she had never been that pretty.

  The woman’s long, straight hair was so blonde it was silver in the lamplight. Her kitten-wide eyes were green and lined with thick lashes. Her lips were full and perfect, brushed with red lipstick. When she smiled, Maddie realized she could not look away.

  “Please,” the woman asked. “May I come in? There’s a class tonight.”

  “Oh,” Maddie said, catching her breath. “Right. Come on in. They’re all upstairs.”

  A wicked light sparked in the woman’s eyes, and was gone before Maddie could blink. “Thank you,” the woman purred.

  Maddie moved out of the way and the woman stepped over the threshold and into the yarn shop. She moved like a dancer, smooth and silent, her face tipped upwards towards the stairs as if following a string. She licked her lips and smiled.

  She must really love knitting.

  Maddie walked out. As she turned to shut the door, she noticed the woman’s bag. Black, bulky, it looked more like an old-fashioned doctor’s bag than a knitting bag. And as the woman climbed the stairs, she opened it and pulled out a pair of metal needles, each as thick as a tent stake, filed to a razor’s edge.

  One thing Maddie could say for Jan was that she was a cop, through and through. Even though she was off-duty and had probably had more than one beer, her smile faded as soon as Maddie stormed into the bar and plunked down on the stool next to her.

  “Gin and tonic,” she told the bartender. He nodded. But instead of getting on with the drink mixing, he leaned forwards and flirted with the little jailbait downing shots of tequila in front of him.

  Men.

  “Did you get a look at his driver’s licence?” Jan asked.

  “What?”

  “The guy who pissed you off. It will make it easier for me when I pull his files and find out if there’s anything worth throwing him in jail for.”

  Maddie put both elbows on the bar and rubbed at her temples. “That obvious?”

  Jan shrugged. “You almost burned a hole in the back of the bartender’s head. Want to tell me about it?”

  “No. There was a man at the yarn store, he said there was a class and invited me to stay, and I thought, I thought . . . ” She took a deep breath and crossed her arms on the bar, looking over at Jan. “I thought he was coming on to me. Flirting, you know? So I flirted back. But he was just playing me to fill out the ranks of the knitting class. Some other women came in, younger than me, prettier, and he tossed me to the side. I felt like such an idiot.”

  “Glad you decided not to tell me about it. Did you get this cad’s name?”

  “Stop making fun of me.”

  Jan grinned. “Stop making it so easy. I can’t believe you’re upset because someone flirted with you and you liked it.”

  The bartender finally sauntered over, placed her drink down without even looking at her, and walked away.

  “Fine,” Maddie said. “I liked the flirting. But did he have to crush my fantasy?” She smiled ruefully.

  Jan raised her eyebrows in question.

  “You know, that we’d fall in love at first sight. His favourite pastime would be doing dishes and going grocery shopping. I’d find out I was the long lost heiress to a fortune and we’d run away to someplace warm and sandy and make passionate love . . . ” Maddie lifted her glass. “ To reality. What a bitch.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Jan said, raising her own glass. “ To Fantasy Crusher what’s-his-name.”

  “Saint Archer,” Maddie provided.

  Jan’s mood changed. She frowned. Took a drink of her beer.

  “You know him, don’t you?” Maddie asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Is he a criminal?” />
  “No comment.”

  “Interesting. Witness protection programme?”

  “OK, we’re going to change subjects now,” Jan informed her in her no-bullshit cop voice.

  “Come on. You know something about him. Something bad, right?” Maddie took another drink, the warmth spreading out in her stomach and echoing back through her muscles. “It would cheer me up,” she said. “Indecent exposure? Tax evasion? He runs a pornographic flower shop in his basement?”

  “Not that I know of,” Jan said. “Just the yarn store.”

  “What?” Maddie said. “I thought he worked there.” OK, the truth? One look at him and she had stopped thinking.

  “So he owns the store?” Maddie asked.

  “Yup”

  “So . . . he’s gay?”

  Jan laughed so hard she snorted. “It’s not on record, if that’s what you’re asking. Still. You know better than to assume things about people.” She lifted her glass and muttered into it, “No one in this city is what they seem to be.”

  “But he has a record?”

  Jan just gave her a look and took another drink of beer. She emptied half the glass, thunked it on the counter and refused to answer.

  Maddie took another drink and thought it over. Maybe it didn’t matter, but she had to ask anyway. “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

  “Would I let you go anywhere, alone, if I thought you were in danger?” Jan downed the last of her beer. “I’m going to the bathroom. Get me another beer, will you?” She was no longer smiling.

  “Sure,” Maddie said. And she didn’t even point out that Jan had not answered her question.

  Jan got her smile back when Tony Brown strolled into the bar. Tony worked for the city and he and Jan had the kind of history that led to him buying Jan another couple of beers, and them getting a table.

  Maddie moped her way through another gin, then decided to call it a night. She handed her card to the bartender and her elbow brushed the little bag Archer had given her. She’d been so angry walking to the bar that she hadn’t even looked in it.