Dark Gold (32 page)

"Thomas?" Alexandria touched his shoulder lightly. "Have you been doing drugs this evening?" She already knew the answer; she could smell it in his bloodstream. "Perhaps we should take you to a hospital. Or a private doctor."

Slowly, in fear, Thomas lowered his hands. The rear window was intact. There were no shards of glass. Alexandria was sitting calmly in the seat, her blue eyes anxious.

"This has never happened before. I'm hallucinating. It was just a little coke in the men's room. Maybe it was some bad stuff, I don't know." He sounded scared.

"What did you see?" Again she scanned the area, trying to find evidence of Aidan or any other danger, but they seemed to be alone. Maybe it really was the drugs. "Should I tell the driver to take you to a hospital?"

"No, no. I'll be all right." He was sweating profusely.

She could smell his fear.

"There's nothing out there, Thomas, really. I sometimes sense things before they happen, and I don't have any strange feelings," she offered, trying to be reassuring.

"I'm sorry," he apologized hoarsely. "Have I ruined the evening?" His eyes kept shifting from side to side, and he seemed to have developed a nervous tic on the left side of his jaw. He looked far older than he had at the beginning of the evening.

"No, of course not. I had a wonderful time. Thank you for thinking of the theater. I really needed to get out," she assured him. "But Thomas, I don't believe in taking drugs. I have my little brother, Joshua, to think about. I realize it isn't my business what you choose to do on your own time, but I'm not comfortable with cocaine or any other drug."

"It's not like I'm some junkie. I just use it occasionally for recreational purposes."

"Not around me." That alone was a good enough reason not to be with him. She thought much less of him now, knowing that he would use narcotics to enhance the evening, as if he was incapable of enjoying it on his own.

"Fine," he said sulkily, "I won't."

The car was already pulling into Aidan's circular drive. The wrought-iron gates had been left open in anticipation of her return. For a moment she sat still, staring at the heavy gates. They represented a loss of freedom. She wasn't ready to go back to the house and admit defeat. So Thomas Ivan and she didn't have the least bit of chemistry between them. That didn't mean she wouldn't find another man.

She slid quickly out of the car, eluding Thomas's clinging hand. "Thank you again, Thomas. I'll see you soon. Be sure to get back to me on your ideas for the designs." And before he could get out to accompany her to the door, she was running lightly up the marble steps to the wide front porch. She waved once and slipped inside.

Thomas swore and sat back in the seat. Before he could close the door, he saw the heavily muscled wolf stalking him across the lawn. "Go! Go!" he shouted to the driver, slamming the door hard.

The driver fishtailed out of the driveway and away from the house, and Thomas breathed a sigh of relief. All he wanted to do was get home and get very drunk.

Alexandria moved through the house without turning on a light, found the phone, and made a call. She could see perfectly in the darkness and ran easily up the stairs. Aidan thought he had won—he had monitored her all evening—but it wasn't over yet. She was not ready to concede defeat.

In her bedroom, she removed the black velvet dress and reached for her faded, comfortable, worn blue jeans and a simple pale blue shirt. The change took only minutes, and she tugged on tennis shoes and headed back downstairs. The cab she called had not yet arrived, so she sat outside on the marble steps and waited.

"And where are you off to now?" Aidan asked silkily, appearing out of nowhere to loom over her, making her feel small and fragile.

"I'm going dancing." Her eyes dared him to deny her.

His body tightened. "Dream date didn't go well?"

There was the briefest glimpse of amusement in her eyes, but her mouth frowned severely. "As if you didn't know. Try not to look so innocent. It doesn't suit you."

He was unrepentant, grinning at her, turning her heart over. Just the sight of him brought her body surging to life. "Go away, Aidan. I don't want to look at you."

"Am I tempting you?"

"Didn't anyone ever teach you how to be a gentleman? Go away. You're annoying me." She stuck her nose in the air.

Her profile in the moonlight took his breath away. With the blanket of darkness enfolding them, they seemed to be the only two people in the world. He drank her in, her scent, that special fragrance that was hers alone. A small, confident smile curved his sensual mouth, casting a sexy shadow across his masculine features. "At least I have your attention."

"I'm going out dancing," she asserted.

"You are declaring your independence," he countered. "It will not do you any good. You belong here, with me. You belong
to
me. None of those men out there will make you feel as I do."

She stuck her chin out. "I don't want them to. You're so intense, Aidan. Wild and intense. You make me crazy. I just want to feel…" She broke off, unsure how she wanted to feel.

"Normal. Human." He supplied the words for her.

"There's nothing wrong with that.
You
scare the hell out of me." There. She had admitted it to him. Said it out loud. She glanced away into the night, unable to look at him and not burn for him.

"Your feelings for me scare the hell out of you," he corrected gently.

"I don't trust you." Why was the cab so late? She clenched her fists, not wanting to be alone with him like this. She remembered the feel of his mouth on hers, the taste of him.

"You would trust me if you gave yourself fully to me. Allowed your mind to merge with mine completely. I could hide nothing from you if you wanted to examine it. My memories, my desires." His voice whispered over her skin, tempted, beckoned.

She glared at him. "As if I haven't had your desires dancing in my head all night. Thank you very much, Mr. Savage. I don't intend to become anybody's slave."

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. Then his perfect mouth curved into an enticing smile. "Are you going to hold that against me forever? After all, if anyone is a slave here, it is me. I would do anything for you, and I think you know it."

She bit her lip hard to keep from flinging herself into his arms. "The taxi is here. I'll be back later." He was so sexy, and she desperately wanted him.

He touched her as she slipped past him, the lightest of caresses, running a finger down her arm, but she felt it in her deepest core, felt it in her soul. She carried the sensation of his touch with her into the cab.

Chapter Fourteen

The newest hot singles bar was a wild blend of sophistication and sleaze. It made a stab at class by posting bouncers at the entrance to determine who would enter and who would be denied, but it was clear that they took bribes and that any pretty girl was ushered right in. The line was long, but Alexandria ignored it, walking with complete confidence to the door. She had noticed her new effect on people, noticed that her voice enthralled them almost as much as Aidan's did her.

She smiled at the man standing squarely in her path. His head jerked up, and he sucked in his breath audibly. He didn't even hesitate, personally escorting her inside. The music assaulted her ears and vibrated through her body. She felt the crush immediately, the press of bodies against her. Mostly she heard their hearts beating, the rush of blood through their veins nearly overwhelming her.

A tall man in dark leather quickly claimed her, catching her wrist, grinning at his find. He had a scruffy beard and smelled of cologne, whiskey, and sweat. His left arm boasted a tattoo of a black widow spider in the center of her web, complete with red hourglass on her belly and a hint of fangs protruding from her mouth. The man leered at her and dragged her close to him. "I been looking for you all night."

She wanted to feel something besides her rebelling stomach, but he obviously wasn't her type. She smiled up into his eyes. "It's not going to happen," she said softly, persuasively.

The smile faded from his face, and she could see the latent violence in him. This was a man who didn't like to be thwarted. His fingers tightened like a vise.

"Let go of me." She said it calmly, but she wasn't calm inside. She had somehow counted on enjoying the best of both worlds tonight, thinking whatever creature she had become would protect her from this kind of thing.

The man's laugh was frankly nasty. "Let's go outside, babe." As he made the suggestion into an order by grabbing her wrist, he felt something on his arm. He glanced down and, to his horror, saw his black widow tattoo crawling up his forearm toward his biceps. He could see the fangs clicking angrily, feel its hairy legs on his skin. He froze, then yelled loudly, dropping Alexandria's wrist, slapping and brushing wildly at his arm.

Alexandria saw nothing but took the opportunity to glide away, disappearing into the crowd.

The man stared down at his arm, gasping heavily, his chest heaving. But the only thing he saw was his tattoo. Nothing moved. He raked a hand through his hair, leaving it wild and disheveled. "I've had too much booze, man," he said to no one in particular.

Alexandria slipped through the throng, her head pounding with the beat of the music. Her blood was hot, but her skin ice-cold. Her stomach seemed to rebel at the bodies she brushed against. A stocky man with chestnut hair and a ready smile touched her shoulder. "Dance with me?"

He was lonely, she could feel it, as well as his deep sadness and near desperation to hold another human being. Without thinking she smiled an assent and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. The moment his arms surrounded her and he pulled her body against his, she knew it had been a mistake. She wasn't human. She wasn't what he needed. And his illusion was no more desperate than hers. His desperation was no sadder than her own. Neither of them spoke. She knew his thoughts, his terrible sorrow for the loss of his wife some six months earlier. But she wasn't Julia, his wife. She wasn't even the customary, warm body to help him make it through the night. And he wasn't Aidan, and he never could be.

That last thought struck terror into her soul. Why had she thought that? She could find a man. A human man. It wouldn't be this one, but there must be someone.

The man stirred. "Come home with me?"

"It isn't me you want," she said gently, moving to put a few inches between them.

He tightened his hold, pulling her body into his. "It isn't me you want either, but we can help each other," he pleaded, wanting someone to push away the ghosts for a few precious hours.

The smell of his blood called to her. Alexandria's stomach lurched, and she felt bile rise into her throat. She shook her head adamantly. "I'm sorry, I can't do this." When she went to step away, the music changed to a frantic, driving rhythm that seemed to goad the man to clutch at her. As his arm tightened across her back, static electricity seemed to arc from the floor into his arm, jolting him. He swore and released her immediately. Surprised, Alexandria stepped away. "What happened?"

"You shocked me!" he accused.

"I did?" She inched away from him. Had she inadvertently done so without knowing it? Or had it been an accident? She had no idea, but she was grateful for the timely intervention. She ducked into the whirling, gyrating crowd and made her way across the room, the music beating in her head, through her body.

Alexandria found the bar. Several men in suits parted to allow her access. Their greetings were speculative, hopeful. They seemed nice enough. Some were good-looking. Some even seemed legitimately friendly. But she felt nothing. It was as if she was totally empty inside. Dead.

Suddenly wondering what she was doing, what she was trying to prove to herself, she spun around, leaned her back against the bar, and stared down at her shoes. There was no way around it. She had never been a promiscuous person. It just wasn't in her. She wasn't attracted to a man for his looks, and even those who mildly intrigued her, whom she had things in common with, didn't stir her physically.

"You look sad," one of the suits observed. "Do you want to grab a booth and talk? Just talk." He held up his hands, palms out. "I mean it. No come-on, just talk. My name's Brian."

"Alexandria," she said, but she shook her head. He was too nice to lead on. He said he wanted to talk, but she could read his deeper interest easily. "Thanks, but I think I'll go home."

Home. Where was home? She didn't have one. The sorrow was almost too much for her to bear. She looked up, and her gaze was caught on the darkest corner of the room. Golden eyes gleamed back at her. Her heart jumped. She couldn't look away, captivated by the intensity in that unblinking stare.

Aidan moved slowly out of the shadows. Glided. Rippled. Stalked like a great jungle cat. He took her breath away. Tall. Sexy. Powerful. Eyes only for her. Locked on her. Beneath his silk shirt his muscles rippled suggestively. He looked elegant, exuded power, was without equal.

She found herself trembling in anticipation of his touch. Just like that, the mere sight of him had brought her back to life. Like the Red Sea, the crowd parted to allow him through. No one touched him, brushed against him, or jostled him. Even the suits pressing close to her moved aside to allow him entrance into their private domain. Then he was standing in front of her, holding out a hand, his eyes trapping her gaze.

Whether it was compulsion or obsession, Alexandria didn't know. She didn't even care. She couldn't have stopped herself for any reason. She was fighting a useless battle. She needed him, and there he was. She placed her hand in his, and when he closed his fingers around hers and drew her to him, it felt as if she was giving herself away.

"Dance with me,
cara mia
. I need to feel you against me." His words, his voice, were far too seductive to resist.

Alexandria slipped easily into his arms. She fit perfectly. He was strong and warm, and the electricity was instantly crackling between them. Her head found a niche in his shoulder. Her body found his rhythm easily; she was born for it, his other half. It was black-velvet seduction, pure magic.