A Bite to Remember (7 page)

“You seem to be seeing a lot of that little Jackie.”

“Hmm. I was,” Cassius had allowed, then shrugged. “But
I’m growing bored. She’s too unsophisticated. Her adoration was amusing at first, but is becoming annoying.” He smiled faintly. “I do like making her do things she doesn’t want to do though. Her mind is as malleable as clay and so easily controlled. I barely have to exert myself to get into her thoughts and convince her that yes, she really does want me to screw her in my theatre box where anyone might see.”

“You surprise me, Cassius,” one of the men had commented. “From what you were telling me you had grown tired of sex and—”

“This isn’t about sex,” he’d said impatiently. “Although it’s a lot more interesting when you know you’re making her do things that are against her morals.” He’d shrugged. “But I’m growing bored with the game and am thinking to end it soon. I just need to decide how I want to end it. Something magnificent. Perhaps bursting in on one of Ted Morrissey’s business meetings and screwing her on the boardroom table in front of important clients. Imagine his humiliation as she squeals like a bitch in heat.”

“Jesus, Cassius, I knew you didn’t like Ted, but this is just—”

“He doesn’t show me the proper respect,” Cassius snapped, displaying an anger Jackie had never witnessed from him. “He acts as though he’s as good as us and he isn’t. None of them are. They’re all simple-minded children that we feed from and can control as we wish and he needs to understand that.”

Numb with shock, and suddenly terribly, terribly frightened of being discovered there, Jackie had eased away from the door and hurried out of the room. She’d glanced anxiously over her shoulder every half second as she’d made her
escape, knowing that if Cassius saw her before she got out, there would be trouble. He’d read her mind and know she’d heard everything…He wouldn’t have let Jackie leave, knowing what she knew. He would have taken control of her mind, as he’d apparently been doing, and kept her with him until he’d made her do something that would publicly humiliate herself and her father.

Jackie’s fear had eased once she was in a taxi on the way home, but it hadn’t gone completely. Cassius had been controlling her and would do so again if given the chance. It had seemed to her to be in her best interests to be sure he couldn’t. A much humbler Jackie had approached her father on returning home. She’d told him everything, and as she’d hoped, he’d known what to do. He’d called Bastien Argeneau at once and the vampire had come to their home to talk over the matter.

Jackie had been terribly embarrassed at the time, but looking back, Bastien had been extremely kind. He’d assured her that all of his kind did not look down on mortals as Cassius did, and that she hadn’t been foolish or stupid, that Cassius had used his abilities to control her behavior and she shouldn’t now feel embarrassed at anything she may have done. Then he’d assured her she needn’t fear Cassius getting the chance to control her again. They would send her away for a while to keep her safe while he dealt with the matter.

Jackie had found herself on a plane to Europe the next morning. She’d gone to University at Oxford for a year before returning to take a job at her father’s company again. She’d never asked what had been done about Cassius. From what Jackie had pieced together over the years, she knew he’d suddenly found it desirous to move out of New York. She also
knew he’d been warned off of ever bothering her and her father again.

Jackie dropped onto her bed with a sigh. The memory of those few short weeks in her life no longer caused the pain it once had. She’d been crushed at the time, heart sore and humiliated as she tried to sort out what—if any—of her feelings and passions had been her own and which had been planted by Cassius. She was pretty sure her initial attraction to him had been real. Even now she could acknowledge that Cassius was a handsome man. But his words had made her doubt everything else she’d experienced. Had any of the overwhelming passion been hers? Or had he placed it in her mind, controlling her with it?

To this day, Jackie didn’t know the answer to that question. All she knew was that vampires were a dangerous lot, able to subvert a mortal’s will. And she’d spent years struggling to strengthen her mind against their abilities to read her thoughts, knowing the entire time that in the end, if they really wanted to, they would easily break down her defenses and not only read but control her mind. That knowledge made her instinctively fear them. Which, in turn, made her angry.

Bastien Argeneau was the only vampire Jackie had even come close to trusting since then. But then, he’d always treated her with gentle respect, and he was even now engaged to a mortal. Jackie really believed that he didn’t look down on her people. She was less sure about the rest of his kind, however, so stayed on the defensive with them all. It just seemed the safest way to deal with things.

And, Jackie decided, she would continue to handle it thusly. She had to keep her defenses up, especially now that
she was living in the same home as Vincent. She was not going to risk another humiliation like the one Cassius had visited on her. Jackie had to harden her heart against Vincent. It was a simple matter of self-preservation.

Four

Vincent rolled over, opened his eyes and peered at the bedside clock, a frown drawing his eyebrows together as he saw the digital reading. Eleven forty-eight. Dear God, it wasn’t even noon. He usually slept until six or later to avoid as much sunlight as possible.

Eleven forty-nine. Vincent glowered at the changing digital reading. Something had obviously woken him. His sleepy mind was just trying to sort out what that might be when the sound of voices came muffled through his bedroom door. Frowning, he turned to peer toward it. It was two men’s voices, growing louder as the speakers drew nearer. He tensed as they reached his door, then they apparently continued on down the hall because the voices began to fade again.

“What the hell?” Tossing his blankets and sheets aside, Vincent slid his feet out of bed and got up. He didn’t bother dressing, but moved to the door and pulled it open to peer
out, eyes widening at the sight of all the men moving in and out of the half dozen open doors off the hallway.

Leaving his room, Vincent started forward, glancing through each open door he passed. There was only one door on the upper floor that was still closed, the door to the room where his aunt Marguerite slept. Wondering how she could possibly sleep through all this racket, Vincent took the stairs, his thoughts scattering as he reached the main floor and found it flooded with light. Every window in the house was covered with a heavy protective curtain that kept the light out and made it safe for him to move around when necessary during the day. Presently, every one of those curtains appeared to have been pulled open to allow sunlight to spill across the hardwood floors.

Growling, Vincent headed for the kitchen, expecting to find Tiny there, but the man was conspicuous in his absence. Turning away from the empty kitchen, he started back up the hall, glancing in each room he passed, searching for Jackie and an explanation for the small army of men who had taken over his home. Vincent found both Jackie and Tiny in his office.

“Morning,” Tiny rumbled on spotting him, then turned back to watch Jackie who was on the phone.

“I’ve already explained who I am. I’m Mr. Argeneau’s new personal assistant and he asked me to call and have you send over this information. Just pull the files and fax the list to me.” Jackie sounded impatient, apparently not appreciating the resistance she was getting from whomever she was talking to. Vincent watched her expression tighten as she listened for another moment, then Jackie clucked with irritation and
snapped, “He’s just walked into the office. Hold one moment, please.”

Leaning forward, she pressed the button to put the call on hold and scowled at Vincent.

“Your production assistant is being difficult. Please tell her to fax over the list of employees on the New York production,” she snapped, then pressed the hold button again and handed him the phone.

Vincent hesitated, not used to being ordered about, but then sighed and took the phone. “Lily?”

“Oh, Mr. Argeneau, that woman claims she’s—”

“Yes, yes,” Vincent interrupted, then tried for a more pleasant tone as he said, “Yes, Lily. Jackie is my new personal assistant and I did ask her to contact you. Just send over whatever she’s asked for and anything else she calls you about in future. Okay? Thanks.”

Vincent handed the phone back to Jackie without waiting for agreement, then listened impatiently as she repeated orders she’d obviously already given several times. Once finished, Jackie hung up. “Thank you.”

When Vincent’s mouth tightened, Tiny considered his exhausted face and then announced, “I think I’ll go check on lunch.”

Jackie watched the giant go and then said, “Really, thank you. Your Lily was being a pain.”

Vincent had intended on blasting her for the noise the men were making, but curiosity got the better of him and, instead, he asked, “How did you find her number?”

“It wasn’t hard; you put her under
P
for production assistant in your Rolodex,” Jackie pointed out with amusement.
“Finding her wasn’t the problem, getting a hold of her was. When I called her office, the switchboard gave me her home phone number. I must have called twenty times before she finally answered.”

“She didn’t have to answer at all,” Vincent muttered. “Lily doesn’t normally start work until I do.”

“Which reminds me, what are you doing up so early?” she asked with a frown. “I expected you to sleep at least until dinner.”

Her question reminded him that he was annoyed and Vincent scowled. “What are all these men doing in my house?”

Jackie appeared surprised at the question. “You know very well what these men are doing here. They’re the security team. They’re finishing the installation of the alarm system and cameras on the windows and doors upstairs.”

Yes, he did know that, but…“Couldn’t they have come later in the day? They woke me up.”

Jackie sat back with a sigh. “The sooner everything’s in place and fully operational the better.”

Vincent scowled, but he was unable to fault her reasoning. Unfortunately.

“I did ask them to try to keep the noise down,” she added apologetically. “I’ll talk to them again so that you can get some more sleep.”

“No, no. I’m awake now.” Vincent shifted impatiently on his feet, his gaze looking over Jackie, noting she wore another business suit, this one gray with a red blouse under it. Very sharp, very nice on her, he thought, his gaze slipping to the wide expanse of neck left bare by the open top two buttons. He found himself staring at the creamy white flesh with
fascination. To him, it was tantamount to waving a pizza under the nose of a starving man. Without even thinking about it, Vincent found himself taking a step closer, pausing only when his thighs bumped against the edge of the desk.

“For heaven’s sake, stop looking at me like lunch!” Jackie said irritably as she stood up. “And, do you always have to wander around here shirtless?”

Vincent blinked and glanced down at himself, only now becoming aware that he was wearing only a pair of soft cotton pajama pants. Apparently, she found his state of undress distressing, he noted, and glanced up to catch Jackie staring at his chest. Her eyes slid down over his pecs to his flat stomach in a caress he almost felt. Vincent found himself with the sudden urge to stretch and flex some of those muscles she was eyeing with such interest, but before he could, Jackie blinked as if waking from sleep and jerked her eyes up to his face.

She blushed bright pink at being caught gawking, then he saw her mouth tighten and spoke quickly to prevent her grouching at him again. “So what’s all this then?”

Jackie hesitated, then glanced down at the stacks of paper on his desk. Sighing, she pushed one hand through her golden hair and visibly relaxed. “This is your mail, Mr. Argeneau.”

“Hmm. Mail.” Vincent ignored the return of the formal address and nodded as he glanced over the piles. He never opened his mail. He just stacked it up on the table in his hallway until the table couldn’t hold it anymore, then dumped it all in a box.

“You had three months worth of mail in your hall,” she informed him dryly.

“Yes, well—”

“I opened and sorted it all, stacking it in order by date with the oldest on top,” Jackie went on, ignoring his efforts to explain himself. “This first pile is just bill receipts. I gather you have direct debit for all your bills?”

“Yes,” Vincent answered absently, his gaze slipping from the stack in question, to the creamy flesh of her throat and lingering there before he forced it away.

Jackie nodded. “I’ll file them later today if you’ll tell me where your files are kept.”

“I usually just toss them in a box and throw them in that closet,” Vincent admitted, gesturing to a door to their right.

Jackie’s eyes widened incredulously at this news. “What about when tax time rolls around? Don’t you—”

“I send the boxes to my personal accountant,” Vincent answered. “Most of it isn’t stuff he needs, but I let him sort it out.”

“That’s—that—” Jackie paused, cleared her throat and then said, “Accountants charge by the hour to
sort
out such things.”

Vincent shrugged, not terribly concerned. Money wasn’t a big issue for him. Between his shares in Argeneau Enterprises, along with his own company interests and investments made over the last four hundred years, he wasn’t stinking rich, but he was rich enough.

“Whatever,” she said finally with a shrug. “I’ll put them in the box.”

“Sure.” His gaze slid to her throat again and away. He really had to move this along and see about feeding. “What is the rest of this?”

Jackie pointed to the next stack. “This is all nice fan mail. It’s pretty obvious you don’t answer your fans.”

He could hear the disapproval in her voice and propelled the conversation along again by gesturing at the last two piles. “What are these then?”

“This stack is all business letters,” Jackie answered, pointing to the larger pile. “Letters from your agent, play directors, etc.”