Cleopatra's Return: A Paranormal/Vampire Romance (10 page)

Never mind she thought him dead. Never mind the vampires
s used him as her own personal sex toy for more years than he wanted to count. He’d expected Cleo to remain unsullied. Then she died, and for a short while, he’d mourned until the rumors from Hell had circulated. Cleopatra was fucking demons. Cleopatra was blowing Satan. It seemed everyone had a story about Cleopatra, the Whore Queen.

But the thing that angered him most?
As soon as he’d seen her walking through the door, her hair blonde, but her face and body, even her laughter the same, his first thought?
I still want her.

Despite his hatred and anger, seeing her hit him hard and lust, an all
-consuming passion he’d never felt since knowing her, gripped him tight.

How to reconcile the two opposing needs? A need to punish
her, and a need to fuck her until she clawed at his back, or screamed his name.

Even if he could forget his anger and perhaps admit he owed her an apology, it wouldn’t do him any good. She was still lost to him because
she now bedded Michael. Michael was the one tasting those responsive lips, sinking into her gripping pussy, enjoying the passion Cleo could evoke. Michael who saw past rumor to the woman Julius once loved.

Blinded by jealousy
at her supposed army of lovers, it had never occurred to Julius to question the rumors. He’d believed every fucking lie and wrongfully hated her for over two thousand years.

When she’d spoken
in her defense, he’d sensed the truth, a vampiric ability that he now cursed because it was so much easier to believe the worst of her. So much easier to hate and blame because asking for forgiveness was impossible.

Julius
cried out in frustration and threw the glass of whiskey he’d just poured at the wall.

Why am I constantly plagued by unfairness?
It seemed his life was a chain of events that screwed him over. First, at the height of his glory, he’d lost everything—his wife and children, his empire and his mistress. He became a sadistic bitch’s toy. Even after his rescue, Julius never regained the pride and prestige he’d once basked in. Failure was a stain not easily erased.

Pride and stupidity were also his downfall. The one woman he’d ever loved had in some weird twist of fate in a sense re-entered his life
, and what did he do? He ensured her hate. A deserved hatred.

Fucking fantastic.
After what I’ve done, no matter the fact I still want her, I’ll never have her.
Not just because Cleo wanted nothing to do with him, but because she was Michael’s now, and he could not betray the man who’d saved him from the vampire bitch.

I wish things could be different though.

Michael came to find him just before the dawn, the scent of Cleo clung to him and Julius closed his eyes as he fought a jealous urge to rip his friend’s throat out. Not a good idea. Michael could kill him without batting an eye.

It took a few deep breaths, but
Julius managed to school his features as Michael gazed about the wrecked room before facing him and raising one eyebrow in question.

“I’ll clean it up.” Actually he’d need to
do more than clean, thought Julius, surveying the wreckage.

“I’m not worried about the furniture, or kindling to be more accurate. But I am sorry to have caused you such turmoil.”

“Who said this had anything to do with you?” It embarrassed him to know Michael guessed the cause of his loss of control. Jealousy—a vile emotion he’d never thought to meet again, and for Cleo of all people, a woman he’d hated for centuries, wrongfully so.
I can’t lie to myself. I still love her.

“Would it help to say I didn’t expect to feel so strongly about her?” Michael said
, shrugging his shoulders apologetically.

“She has that effect. I know from experience.” Julius couldn’t help the bitterness in his tone.
Like a succubus, she drew men in with her charms, sucked them dry then tossed them aside. Or so he’d thought for so long, which, in retrospect, seemed shortsighted. Why had it never occurred to him to look past innuendo and slanted historical views? Look at his own past and what the so-called historians had done to it.

As if reading his mind, Michael took him to task with a sad shake of his head.
“Jules, my old friend. I cannot believe that all this time you believed such vile rumors. You of all people know how often truth is twisted.”

“Yeah
, well, you know what they say about hindsight. It’s too late now anyway. Even if I hadn’t attacked her like some steroid-addicted jealous ex-boyfriend, she’s with you now. I would never betray you like that.” But he hated Michael for it, even as he loved him as a brother.

“You still want her?”

“I think my anger stemmed a lot from the fact that, even though I believed the lies, I never stopped.”

“And if she forgave you?”

“Like I said, I would never betray you. I have made my bed. Now I must lie in it.” Alone. Watching and envying the happiness they’d found together.

“It is only betrayal if I am unaware and unwilling.”
Michael looked at him pensively. “What if she were agreeable? It wouldn’t be the first time we shared.”

Julius for a moment felt a surge of hope.
To hold Cleo once again. To show her with more than words how sorry I am.
He shook his head. “Perhaps had I not laid into her, I might have stood a chance. But now? Now she hates me.”

“I don’t agree. I think she still cares for you.”

“I highly doubt that. Besides, how can you even think of sharing her?” Julius well remembered the jealousy when another man so much as looked at her. Even now, knowing Michael came from her arms, he wanted to do horrible things to his friend.

“I care for Cleo, more than I would have imagined possible and in such a short time. But I am
neither blind nor stupid. You are, and will always be, her first love. Much as she might revile you for the moment, I don’t think it will last. I don’t want her to have to choose between us. And if I have to share her, I would do so with one I can trust.”

Julius’s mind whirled with the possibilities. A golden ray of light broke through the hard shell he’d encased himself in since his death
, and his heart warmed from the cold stone it had turned into. The path would not be easy, for him or her, even if the payoff could end up priceless. However, it could also end up in misery. “I don’t know.”

Michael clapped him on the back.
“Think about it. I love you like a brother, Jules. I would not see you unhappy, and much as I care for Cleo, I would gladly share her with you. That was not the main reason for my visit though. We’ve been invited to the faerie court on the morrow. I would like you to come with us.”

“I’m not in the mood for a party,” said Julius.
How can I smile and act like nothing is wrong when I’m still reeling from my mental re-evaluation of Cleo and the discovery I still love her?

“I
care not if you scowl all evening. I am more concerned with Cleo’s safety. Since I can’t bring my bodyguards inside to protect her, stupid Fae rules, I’d hoped you’d come and be another set of eyes and muscle to look out for her.”

A
crease wrinkled his brow. “Why? Is she in danger?”

“
Very much so I fear. I met her the other night as she was being ambushed by Marc Antony and a squad of demons. I think it’s just a matter of time before he shows up again to cause trouble.”

Marc
Antony, her lover after his death, whom he’d believed had taken her heart. Wrong. And now the bastard who’d forced her to serve him threatened her. Julius said, “I’ll think about it.” But he lied.

As
Michael left him and Julius went to find his special room before the dawn did, his mind whirled. He already knew he’d join Cleo and Michael on the morrow. The thought of her coming to harm sent an icy shiver through him. He also couldn’t help wondering,
Could I make it up to her? Make her love me again?

Visions of him and Michael loving her, fucking her, claiming
her made his cock swell.

She’ll never agree to it. She hates me now.
But his almost immortal status gave him the time he needed to make it up to her and, even more amazing, keep his friendship with Michael. With any other man or being, Julius would never have even considered sharing, but he owed everything to Michael who’d saved him from an undead nightmare.

And besides, he knew from experience how intense
sharing a woman could be. He almost came at the thought of how even more pleasurable it would be if that woman was Cleo.

I’ve got a second chance, so hopefully my mouth won’t fuck it up the next time I see her.

The next day,
Cleo woke late, the sun already well past the midpoint. She’d spent a restless night, or morning if she were to get technical. While Michael had erased the shock of seeing Jules once again for a few hours, once he’d left her, dreams, more like nightmares, plagued her. When she woke—often—her mind replayed their disastrous meeting over and over.

It hurt deeply to know that
Julius, of all people, believed the foul rumors that abounded about her. When she’d given herself to him to save her people from his armies, she’d known to expect derision, but in the process, she’d found love. To discover he’d never actually died and, even worse, thought so little of her as a person was a cruel blow.

Not that it mattered now. She had Michael. Her heart swelled with happiness as she thought of him. He made her smile. He listened to her. He laughed with her.
He didn’t care about her past. She was so falling in love with him.
But what if I’m wrong about him too?

Sure, he seemed to ignore history and innuendo to
see the woman she truly was, but at the same time, she was no girl scout. When he got to meet her ruthless side, would he still care for her?

Oddly enough, she believed he would.
I hope.

She bounded out of bed, in a better mood for having thought of
Michael who’d promised her a surprise tonight. She showered before dressing in jeans and a T-shirt that read “Super Diva.” Then she went downstairs to snag a late lunch, actually more like an early supper considering the lateness of the afternoon.

Chester
, as usual, was the height of efficiency and fed her within moments of her arrival. When she finished, she got up from her seat to go for a run in the garden, but Chester waylaid her.

“The master has arranged for a hair and makeup artist for this evening
’s outing.”

We’re going out? Wicked.
She wondered where.

She followed Chester to a room she hadn’t yet explored that resembled a beauty salon with a hair
-washing sink, mirrors all over, and a chair that moved up and down. Used to the eccentricities of the rich, for after all she’d indulged in quite a few in her lavish days, she seated herself and allowed the fawning male duo a chance to do their magic—with a few pointers from her of course.

Several hours later, she regarded herself with a critical eye as the pair with the
dexterous hands beamed in pride. She smiled at what she saw.

Look out world,
I’m back and done hiding. Time to be me, whether anyone likes it or not.

The
queen was back and ready to cause trouble.

Michael couldn’t help but whistle in appreciation as his Egyptian goddess came down the stairs. She’d made great use of the tools he’d given her. Her platinum hair had returned to her natural dark color, but in a striking twist, she’d trimmed her hair to just above her shoulders with the bottom edge, about an inch or so in width, dyed a golden color. Her eyes were darkly kohled and mysterious. Her lips red and wet looking—his cock stirred in interest when he imagined them wrapped around it.

The gown she’d chosen out of the dozen he’d had delivered was similar to the
Roman toga. White and ankle-length, it left her shoulders bare and scooped in the front to reveal a tantalizing hint of cleavage, and for contrast, she’d fitted a braided gold belt around her waist. When she walked, the high slits on either side showed off her tanned legs almost up to the waist.

“You look absolutely magnificent,” he said
, holding out his hand to her.

She tilted her head in acknowledgement and gifted him with a coy smile. “I’m glad you approve.”

“You’re just missing one thing,” he said, turning her around and pulling from his pocket a necklace made of the finest gold links. When he placed the delicate chain around her neck, the fragile filigree glittered upon her skin.

“Thank you,” she murmured softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” was his corny reply. But true. She truly was more lovely than any jewel he’d ever seen.

M
ichael crooked his arm for her, and she placed her hand upon it. He led her outside as Chester held the door open for them.

“
I guess since you got me a present I should mention the one I got for you. Although it’s less a present and more like a promise for later.” She leaned in close and whispered huskily, “I’m not wearing any panties.”