And with good reason.
She slapped the hand of one of the regular patrons when he tried to pat her behind as she passed by, more annoyed than usual. She needed a vacation from this place, but that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Not if she wanted to continue eating.
Maybe she should have taken Johnny what’s-his-name up on his offer, she thought, then shook her head. Definitely not a good idea. She was just tired and edgy. She tensed every time a new customer arrived, always afraid Lynx and his buddies might come swaggering through the door. Where had Darla found a loser like that anyway? Cassie wondered. And why was she always attracted to the wrong kind of guy? Maybe it was in her blood. Her mother had certainly picked a bad apple.
She felt a startling sizzle of awareness when the door opened and Johnny stepped inside. Had he come looking for her? Filled with a nervous sense of excitement and apprehension, she licked her lips and ran her fingers through her hair.
He smiled when he saw her.
She lifted her hand in acknowledgment, then delivered her drink order to a booth in the back. When she turned around, Johnny was sitting at one of the small tables near the front window. One of her tables.
“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” she said, her order pad at the ready. He looked quite handsome in a pair of dark slacks, a white shirt, and a thigh-length black coat.
“I was out for a walk and . . .” He shrugged. “I thought I’d stop by for a drink. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s a free country. What can I get you?”
“A glass of red wine, please.”
Nodding, she made her way to the bar, conscious of his gaze on her back.
Giovanni glanced around the room. He rarely frequented bars, preferring to hunt in less crowded venues. He had spent far too much of his existence alone, he thought ruefully. Perhaps it was time to change that.
He murmured his thanks when she returned with his drink.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Cassie remarked.
“I was hoping I might walk you home.”
She hesitated a moment, then said, “I get off at two A.M.”
“I’ll meet you at the door.”
With a nod, she moved to another table.
Giovanni sipped his wine, content to sit and watch her as she took orders and served drinks. Twice, he was tempted to interfere—once when a man tried to place his hands on her and a second time when another man made a lewd suggestion—but she seemed capable of fending off both of them without causing a scene.
When he finished his drink, he left her a hefty tip, lifted his hand in farewell, and took his leave. He had plenty of time to hunt before he was to meet her.
* * *
Cassie applied fresh lipstick, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, took a deep breath, and stepped outside, wondering if Johnny would really show up. Most people, working or otherwise, were in bed by now, she thought, but maybe he didn’t work. Maybe he was a bored, retired millionaire who’d grown weary of dating wealthy socialites and had decided to go slumming. She shook her head. He didn’t seem like the millionaire type, but then, how was she to know? She had certainly never met one, nor was she likely to.
She smiled shyly when she saw him waiting for her. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“Not at all.” Drawing his hand from behind his back, he offered her a bouquet of red roses.
Cassie stared at the bouquet, momentarily speechless. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“No one’s ever given me flowers before.”
“Then I’m glad to be the first.”
“They’re beautiful.”
As are you, he thought, but he lacked the courage to say the words out loud.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“Long,” he murmured. “And quiet.”
“Oh? Are you retired?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said, stifling a grin.
“What did you do before you quit?”
“I was a priest.”
She stared at him, eyes wide. “A priest!”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I didn’t know priests left the Church. I thought it was a lifetime calling. You know, like being a Supreme Court justice.”
He shrugged. “It happens.”
“You seem awfully young to be retired. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I was thirty-nine on my last birthday. Might I ask how old you are?”
“Twenty-six. You’re not married or anything, are you?”
“Of course not!” he exclaimed, obviously offended by the question. “Would I be here with you now if I were?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Lots of men cheat on their wives.”
“Well, I would never!”
She laughed at the horrified expression on his face. “I believe you.”
Suddenly at a loss for words, he slowed his steps. What was he doing here with her? In mortal years, he was thirteen years her senior. But as a vampire, he had existed hundreds of years longer. Yet he feared she was far more worldly-wise than was he. He knew nothing of women, of intimacy—sexual or otherwise. Of dating. Or marriage.
He was relieved when her apartment building came into view.
She paused at the foot of the stairs. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“I was happy to. You shouldn’t be walking the streets at this hour.”
Frowning, Cassie looked up at him. Walking the streets!
“Is something wrong?”
“Are you implying that I’m a whore?”
“What? No, of course not! What makes you think that?”
“You practically called me a streetwalker.”
He stared at her in confusion for a moment, then with growing horror as he realized what he had unthinkingly implied. Streetwalker. Doxy. Light-skirt. “Cassie, please forgive me. That’s not what I meant at all.”
She found herself grinning at his stricken expression, and then she laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been called that and worse at the Winchester.”
He was surprised to find himself laughing with her. And even more surprised when she went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
Murmuring, “Good night, Johnny,” she ran up the stairs. She stopped at the door and glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you again for the flowers,” she called before going inside and closing the door behind her.
Whistling softly, Giovanni strolled down the sidewalk. Maybe she would agree to let him walk her home again tomorrow night.
Chapter 7
Giovanni groaned as he checked his caller ID. Mara. Again. He let the phone ring several more times, then sighed. If he didn’t answer, she would just keep calling. Or worse, show up at his house. The woman had the tenacity of a pit bull.
“What?” he growled.
“Get up on the wrong side of the casket tonight?” she asked dryly.
“Very funny. What do you want?”
“I wondered if you were ready for a little more matchmaking.”
He frowned at the hint of laughter in her voice. “You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” she asked innocently.
“That I met a woman.”
At that, she burst out laughing. “I don’t know why I’m getting your thoughts so clearly, Father,” she said, “but you really need to block them.”
“I thought I was.” Although he had to admit, it was something he rarely thought about. But he would certainly make more of an effort from now on.
“So, is it serious?”
“No. I’m too old for her. And she’s far too young for me.”
“She’ll catch up in a few years.”
He grunted softly but said nothing.
With an aggrieved sigh, Mara muttered good-bye and ended the call.
Giovanni shook his head. He knew she meant well, but sometimes she took her Queen of the Vampires title a little too far.
Suddenly restless, he wandered through the house, trying to imagine the lives of the people who had previously lived here. Had they been happy? Wealthy? Had the walls echoed with the laughter of children? His own childhood had been harsh, his father barely able to support his wife and six children. They had often gone to bed hungry. He and his older brother had done what they could, frequently begging for handouts in the city streets. Sometimes they were rewarded; sometimes they were whipped and beaten for their efforts.
It wasn’t until he entered the priesthood that he had a warm bed to sleep in, clothes that weren’t patched, and enough to eat.
In the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the mattress. What would it be like to fall in love? To share his life with a woman? To take his rest at her side? To hold her in his arms? It would be a rare creature who would agree to share a vampire’s life. And yet those he considered family had all found mates willing to do so. Granted, they had endured some rough times, yet their love had been strong enough to see them through.
He had been looking forward to seeing Cassie again but now, thinking about the differences between them, he wondered if it was wise. He had so little worldly experience, so little to offer. In time, no doubt she would grow bored with him. If he continued to see her, she would start to question why he couldn’t share a meal with her, why she only saw him after dark, why he was never sick, why his injuries healed rapidly—his aversion to silver. And if their relationship lasted years, she would wonder why he never aged.
Better to end it now, he thought, even though it had never really begun.
Determined never to see her again, he left the house, intending to go in search of prey.
Instead, within minutes, he found himself seated at one of her tables in the Winchester Lounge, the glass in his hand still warm from her touch.
* * *
Cassie found herself smiling as she served drinks, cleared tables, endured the usual flirtations and suggestive humor, the invitations to walk her home, the leers. Tonight, nothing bothered her. And it was all because of Johnny. What was it about him that his mere presence made her so happy inside? He was unlike any man she had ever met—shy yet self-assured, quiet yet capable of defending her, outwardly calm, and yet she sensed a kind of power in him that she didn’t understand.
She thought he would have a drink or two and then leave, but he stayed until closing and then offered to walk her home again.
“This is getting to be a habit,” she remarked as they left the lounge.
“Would you rather I stayed away?”
“What? Oh, no!” She smiled up at him. “I don’t work tomorrow night. Maybe we could . . . never mind.”
“Could what?”
“Nothing.”
Even in the dark, he could see the flush that warmed her cheeks. Had she been about to ask if he would like to spend the day with her and then thought better of it? Did he dare ask her? He hesitated, fearful of being rejected, then blurted, “Cassie, would you like to go out with me tomorrow night?”
“I’d love to.”
“Wonderful! Where would you like to go?”
“Dinner? Dancing? A movie? A walk in the park. I don’t care.”
“How about a movie?” That seemed safe enough. He could sit beside her in the dark, inhale her warm, womanly fragrance, the scent of her blood, look at her to his heart’s content and she would be none the wiser.
“Great! I’ve been wanting to see that new dinosaur flick.”
“Sounds good. I’ll pick you up at seven. Is that okay?”
“Perfect.”
Cassie was still smiling when they reached her place. She stopped at the stairs, wishing she could invite him in. But her place was small and ugly, and she didn’t want him to see it. Or hear the fighting and cussing that went on nightly in the apartment next door. Or have to listen to the crying baby on the other side. “Thanks for seeing me safely home once again.”
He nodded, wondering if he dared kiss her good night.
He was still trying to make up his mind when she went up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.
Shocked, he simply stood there. Then, summoning his courage, he slid his arm around her waist and kissed her back. It had been centuries since he’d kissed a woman. He had forgotten how soft a woman’s lips were, how sweet and mysterious.
When he lifted his head, Cassie murmured, “Wow. Where did you learn to kiss like that?”
Was she complaining? But no, she was reaching for him again. Filled with a sudden, unexpected sense of—he wasn’t sure what, confidence or exhilaration—he took her in his arms and claimed her lips a second time. She leaned into him, her breasts warm and supple against his chest. And ever so slowly, desire unfolded deep within him. He had held many women in his arms, but they had been prey, nothing more than a means to satisfy his hellish thirst. None had ever aroused his senses like this.
When they parted this time, he was no longer worried about his ability to please a woman.
* * *
Cassie stared after Johnny as he walked briskly down the street. My, oh my, that man could kiss! She ran her fingertips over lips that were still tingling. Tomorrow, she would take a little of the cash she had saved and buy herself a new outfit. She would curl her hair and paint her nails and pretend she was Cinderella going to the ball instead of a lowly waitress serving drinks in a second-rate bar.
And maybe, if she was lucky, she thought with a sigh, the handsome prince would kiss her again.
* * *
Giovanni paced the living room floor, willing the minutes to pass. He hadn’t been this nervous since the morning he’d heard his first confession. That had been a day he would never forget. He smiled inwardly. With luck, this might turn out to be a night he would never forget. He had been a mortal man the last time he’d been with a woman. He and Maria Elena had never really gone out together. Forced by circumstances to meet on the sly, they had rarely spent more than a few stolen moments in each other’s company.
Unable to wait any longer, Giovanni went out the back door into the garage. He rarely drove the Mustang parked inside, but there were times when it came in handy, and this was one of them, he mused as he slid behind the wheel. He had formed attachments to few things in his life, but he loved this car; cherry red with white racing stripes, it was considered a classic.
He backed out of the garage, felt a rush of nerves as he drove to Cassie’s apartment.
* * *
Cassie stood in front of the cracked mirror in her bedroom, turning from side to side. Did she look all right? She had spent the day shopping for a new dress. She had settled on a simple dark green sheath with long sleeves and a modest slit on one side. She had splurged on a new pair of heels, too, and a new lipstick. Good thing she had paid her rent in advance, she thought.
Earlier, she had taken a long shower, shaved her legs, washed and curled her hair, and now she was ready to go, thirty minutes before her date was to arrive.
She couldn’t help smiling when Johnny called to say he was sorry for being early, but he was waiting downstairs.
Cassie came to an abrupt halt when she saw him standing in front of a gorgeous red Mustang with racing stripes. “Is that yours?”
“Like it?”
“It’s a beaut!” she exclaimed as he opened her door. Never in all her life had she ridden in such an amazing car. “It must have cost a fortune.”
“It’s a 1967,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “I bought it used, but it’s in top condition. Last time I looked, it was worth around thirty grand. Of course I didn’t pay that much.”
She ran her fingertips over the edge of the leather seat. “It still looks brand-new.”
“I don’t drive it very often,” he said, pulling away from the curb. “I’m glad you like it.”
* * *
All too aware of the woman sitting beside him, Giovanni paid little attention to the movie. He was captivated by the scent of her skin, her perfume, her hair. Her blood. It called to him
as no other. Halfway through the movie, he found the courage to take her hand, his fingers twining with hers.
His heart swelled when she didn’t pull away.
He studied her prof ile—the tilt of her nose, the dimple in her cheek, the way her hair fell over her shoulders. He smiled ruefully. He had known her only a few days and he was already totally smitten. She was his first thought on waking from the Dark Sleep and his last thought before falling into oblivion.
And now she was here, beside him, her hand small and warm in his.
* * *
“What a great movie!” Cassie exclaimed as they left the theater. “It had everything! Action. Adventure. Dinosaurs. Romance. A happy ending. I loved it. Didn’t you?”
Nodding, Giovanni said, “It was awesome.”
“The dinosaurs looked so real. I’ve been fascinated by them ever since I was a little girl. I don’t know why.”
“Well, they were incredible creatures. It’s amazing how Hollywood makes them look so believable.”
“I know. I think I saw the first Jurassic Park five or six times. So,” she asked when they reached his car, “what shall we do now?”
“What would you like to do?”
“I’d love some ice cream.”
“All right.”
He held the car door for her, closed it when she was seated.
Cassie watched him walk around to the driver’s side. She loved looking at him. He moved with such effortless grace, she wondered if he’d ever been a dancer. Sometimes it seemed as though his feet weren’t touching the ground.
“This really is a great car,” she remarked as he slid behind the wheel.
“It’s my one vanity.” He pulled out of the theater parking lot and headed for Pop’s Ice Cream Shoppe. He’d often wondered what the treat tasted like.
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