Love Knows No Bounds (5 page)

“Maybe.”

“I get that a lot.” He leaned back in the desk chair. “But that’s not me. I grew up in the Midwest. I have eight brothers and sisters.” It was his turn to shrug. “Women want a suave, world traveler. They’re very disappointed when they find out I’m not.”

“I find it hard to believe any woman would be disappointed with you.”

His smile hit her full force. She lowered her arms, taken aback by the flurry of feelings assaulting her. Trust, hope, disbelief. It was so easy to talk to him and yet, she dare not believe anything she felt, he felt as well.

“I’m glad you think so.”

Faye opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. He stood and took a step toward her. A knot formed in her throat. Was he going to touch her, take her in his arms, and kiss her? God, she hoped so.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and ran it down her arm, then entwined his fingers with hers. “Are you ready?”

Wow, he smelled good. She stared at him. “Ready?”

“To exorcise Satan.”

Like a slap in the face, his words shot her back to reality. She looked at the computer. The last thing she wanted was to burst the bubble that she’d been floating in for the past few minutes. “Uh, I’m not really feeling it anymore. Maybe tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Yeah, you’ve got our date to get ready for.”

“Our date?”

“Faye,” he said, turning to take her other hand, “the only reason I’m going is because of you.”

One pathetic and raspy word was all she could manage. “Really?”

His smile softened and he lowered his head. Time stood still as she waited for his lips to touch hers. When they did, her eyes slid shut, her body sinking into the feel of his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. Her mouth opened and he deepened his kiss, slowly brushing his tongue against hers. Sweet Jesus, he tasted like sin and paradise all rolled into one.

She wound her arms around his neck, and strained up on her tiptoes, needing to be closer. Never had she experienced a kiss like this. There had been men in her past, but most of her sexual experiences had been amateurish and fumbling. This felt like a whole new level of intimacy.

His hand moved down to cup her rear end and pull her against him.

“Is that a telephoto lens in your front pocket?” she breathed.

He nibbled her ear. “No, I’m just really happy to see you.”

A small groan escaped before she could shove it back in. Did she sound inexperienced, desperate?

After several minutes of mutual groping, Christopher pulled back. “I’d better go.”

“Are you sure?” She rubbed her chest against his. He hadn’t even tried to cop a feel yet. “Because I’m pretty sure you should stay.”

He kissed her again, deep and long. “If I don’t leave now, we’ll never make it to
Kapow.
”

She reached for him but he stepped out of range. “Fine by me. I didn’t want to go anyway.”

“I know you won’t understand.” He held his hands up in defense. “But it’s important you go tonight.”

Something in his voice made her stop. She lowered her hands. “Why?”

“I think it’s important that people start seeing you in a different light.”

“What people?”

He pointed toward the door. “Whitney, for one. She doesn’t treat you very well.”

“How do you know? This is the first time you’ve met her, right?”

He shifted uncomfortably, not meeting her gaze. “Yeah, this is the first time.”

She appraised him. What wasn’t he telling her? “You’ve never dated, photographed, or slept with her, have you?”

He scrunched up his face. “No way. Seriously, besides magazines, I’ve never seen her before.”

He’d have no reason to lie to her and she had no reason not to trust him. She relaxed her shoulders, releasing the breath she’d been holding. “Fine, we’ll go, but don’t expect miracles where Whitney is concerned.”

The last of her resolve vanished when he flashed his white-toothed smile. “Hey.” He swept his arm in a game-show host arc toward the religious paraphernalia-laden computer. “We’re all about miracles.”

Chapter Four

Saturday Night

The music thudded inside Faye’s chest like a second heartbeat. Lights flickered and danced, winking off the huge mirrored ball rotating in the center of the ceiling. She shielded her eyes and peered through the rail at the bodies bumping and jerking on the floor below her. Either the people were dancing, or everybody was having an epileptic seizure. Really, was disco back in style?

Christopher hadn’t shown up yet. She scanned the bar area but didn’t recognize anyone. Thoughts of doom surfaced, bringing with it a buttload of self-doubt. Try as she might, she still had a hard time believing somebody like Christopher White would be interested in her. Shivers tingled across her shoulders as she remembered the way he’d kissed her. The exchange had been full of anticipation, need, tongue, and completely wonderful. Curse her for wanting to believe he was the real deal. Usually that led to heartbreak.

“Hey, Faye.” Maxwell Chase, Whitney’s friend, slid into the booth next to her. His thigh and hip pressed against hers. “You really look great.”

She inched over and leaned away from him. Man, the guy needed a lesson on personal space. “Uh, thanks, Max.”

He stared at her. “No, I mean it. You really look good. Did you get laid or something?”

“It’s a new water she’s been drinking,” Whitney chimed in. “Some kind of special detox that she doesn’t want to share.”

“Well.” Max slid closer. “It’s working.”

Faye scooted over several more inches. Any farther and she’d fall off the bench. She considered denying the holy water detox, but then she’d have to explain why she bought it. Cleansing seemed the lesser evil over possession.

A tall, blond man in a black suit stopped next to the table and stared down at her. “Hello.”

Faye glanced up and returned to searching the upper level for Christopher.

“Hey, Fabio.” Whitney straightened in her chair, sweeping her golden swath of hair over her shoulder. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” She shifted over, making more room. “Sit down.”

He slid into the booth next to Faye. She clutched her gin and tonic with both hands as he jostled her, pushing her against Max and making her a man-sandwich.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he said. “I’m Fabio.”

You’ve got to be kidding.
She gave him a strained smile, hating the need to make small talk. “So, are you a model, too?”

“Fabio is the top male model in Europe and America,” Whitney cheeped.

Faye glanced at her roommate.
Down, girl.
She looked like she was ready to levitate off the bench.

Fabio ignored her and continued to stare at Faye. “I’ve just added Japan to my list.”

She brought the glass to her lips. “Congratulations.”

The ice clinked against her teeth when she tipped her drink back. In three large gulps, she downed the gin and tonic, enjoying the light burn in the back of her throat.

He leaned in, his chest pressing against her shoulder. “I’m celebrating tonight. Would you like to join me?”

Whitney gave a little whine.

Faye ignored her.

After all the unsolicited attention she’d received today, she was getting used to the bizarre behavior of men. Maybe there was a full moon. “Actually…” She prayed her next statement wasn’t a lie. “I’m meeting someone.”

“Too bad.” He stroked her arm with his index finger, descending to capture her hand. A needy groan wafted from Whitney, reminding Faye of the dog. Fabio brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed them, adding a swirl of his tongue for good measure. “I’d promise you a night you won’t forget.”

Ewww.
Faye pulled her hand away and discretely rubbed it against her black skirt, suppressing the urge to shudder. Both men were staring at her as if she was the last Krispy Kreme doughnut on the plate. She fanned herself with a napkin. Hot air seemed to raise off the dance floor and envelope the upper level. So much for being a V.I.P. She glanced at her watch. It was nearly eleven. Maybe Christopher wasn’t coming. She couldn’t blame him. There were a thousand other places she’d rather be tonight.

“Beautiful lady!”

The exclamation made Faye jump, pulling her from her brooding. Edwardo, from the coffee shop, stared down at her. “Oh, hello, Edwardo.”

He pressed a fist to his chest. “You remember my name. I am a happy man.”

She doubted that’s all it took to make him happy. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am now.” He held out his hands. “Come dance with me.”

“Oh, no thanks.” She pointed to Whitney. “My roommate would probably love to dance.”

Whitney glared across the table.

“No, it’s you or...” He spread his legs and cradled an invisible partner, which Faye presumed was supposed to be her. He performed a kind of grinding motion that looked nothing like dancing and a whole lot like pleasuring himself against the table. “…nobody.”

Whitney’s mouth dropped open. “As if I’d dance with you, jackass. I could dance with anyone in here if I wanted to.”

Edwardo shrugged. “Not me.”

“Beat it,” Max said. “She’s with me.”

“She’s with me,” Fabio countered, sliding his arm around her shoulder.

The pulse of the music had moved from Faye’s chest to her head. She rubbed her temples. Why had she agreed to come? The potent mixture of the two men’s cologne cloyed at her throat.

“I need a drink.” She gripped her glass and shoved against Fabio, pushing him along the bench. Either he’d move or land on the floor. She didn’t care. He jumped to his feet and reached for her. She dodged his attempt and added a quick spin to avoid Edwardo’s open arms. “Please.” With one hand held up in defense, she backed away. “Don’t follow me.”

Everybody stared at her as if she was a skittish cat they were trying to lure to the table. The distance between her and the crazies grew until the crowd finally swallowed her. She turned and wove her way toward the bar. Inserting a shoulder, she elbowed her way through the crush until she reached the neon glass counter.

Despite the swarming mob of towering beauties, the bartender singled her out. His black hair glistened from the tube of lights running around the bar, and the black superhero mask he wore accentuated his ice blue eyes. He looked at her as if she was the only person in the bar. “What can I get you?”

She held up her empty glass. “Gin and tonic, please.”

“You bet.”

He flipped the bottle of gin in the air, catching it right side up. Faye smiled. Obviously taking that as encouragement, the bartender executed several more complicated moves that involved a lot of cape flapping and bottle catching behind his back. Coos of amazement eddied around her. Faye tapped a finger against the glass top. All she wanted was a drink, not a circus act. Next he grabbed the sprayer nozzle and slowly extended it to its full length. He turned, stepped over the hose so his back faced her, and began gyrating. Whoops and catcalls erupted, calling for more.

Holding her gaze over his shoulder, he slid back and forth on the hose. He picked up her glass and positioned it directly under the spray nozzle, which just happened to be wedged in his crotch, and pressed the trigger. The lengths to which people went to get a good tip were appalling.

The crowd around her went wild, but all she could do was stare at the pseudo-sexual display.
After extricating himself from the hose, he picked up a piece of lime and squeezed it into her glass. For good measure he inserted each juice-coated finger into his mouth one at a time, and licked.

“Oh Mother of God.” She reached across the counter and snatched the glass from his hand. “Give me my damn drink.”

Gin and tonic splashed the counter. Before she could reach for a napkin, the bartender bent and licked, running his tongue along the glass.

She stood, frozen by the exhibition. “Kill me now.”

“It takes some getting used to, eh?” said a voice from behind her.

Faye swung around and came face to face with Vern. She gasped and stumbled back a step. “What are you doing here?”

“Making a courtesy call.” His white teeth glowed under the black light, making his smile a hundred times more unsettling. He took a sip from his drink, staring at her over the rim. “Now that’s real refreshing.”

“What do you want?” She tried to take another step back, but her feet seemed glued in place.

“It’s my job to make sure you’re settling in and understand the—” He nodded toward the bartender, who had resumed a normal level of tending. “—the benefits.”

“Listen…Vern, isn’t it?”

“Ah, you remember.”

Kind of hard to forget somebody who made her skin crawl. People crowded the bar, but a bubble seemed to surround the two of them.

“Sorry to inform you, but I’m not interested in men falling at my feet.” Even though the experience had been rather enjoyable, staring into the face of evil clarified exactly what was at stake. She’d rather end up as that cardigan-clad corpse than give up her soul for a lifetime of false adoration.

“No?” His brow furrowed in what looked like genuine consternation. “You prefer to remain invisible, rather than loved?”

“It’s not love.” Her foot moved and she took a step away from Vern. Like being released from a magnetic pull, her other foot shifted. The distance between them widened, but he didn’t follow her. “Not when you take away somebody’s will.”

“Your time is running out, Faye.” He took another drink and set his glass on the bar. “There’s no escape.”

Sitting between Fabio and Max would be more desirable than continuing their conversation. “I need to get back to my friends.”

“What friends? Whitney?” Vern’s smile was full of pity. “Can you really call her your friend? The only reason she likes you is because you make her look good.”

“That’s not true,” she snapped, but knew he was right.

“Oh, but it is. She’s as shallow as a saucer.” He tilted his head to the side, his expression turning sympathetic. “I’m the only true friend you have. The only person who really knows you.”

She scrunched her brow in confusion. Vern was as crazy as the rest of the men. Maybe he was just as affected as the others. “Until today I’d never seen you.”

“Not true. You just didn’t notice me. They never do—until they need us.”

Great, he was referring to himself in third person. “Well, I don’t need you, so…” She took another step back. “Bye.”

“Faye?”

She stopped.

“The contract is binding, so you may as well enjoy it.”

Cold dread poured over her. “What do you mean?”

“Thousands have tried, but nobody has ever broken the contract. Embrace your destiny.”

Every cell in her body wanted to scream in denial, but she knew who—or maybe what—she was looking at. “Are you Satan?”

He executed a slight bow. “No, just a lowly servant. My Lord wouldn’t dirty his hands with the menial task of one woman’s soul. He has bigger irons in the fire.”

“So what, you’re like a recruiter?”

“Exactly, and I’m afraid that once signed, the contract is unbreakable.”

Years of being ignored, taken advantage of, and manipulated bubbled to the surface. “We’ll see about that.”

He did one of those horror movie laughs and Faye couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw flames flicker in his eyes. “I love a challenge. It’s so much sweeter when they’re dragged to Hell kicking and screaming.”

His words knocked some of the defiant wind out of her and replaced it with a breath of pure fear. Maybe taunting one of Satan’s minions wasn’t the wisest plan. A thousand questions crowded her mind, but only one made it to her lips.

“And when will that be?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” He tapped his watch. “Tictock, Ms. Albert, tictock.”

A warm hand settled against her arm. “Faye?”

Christopher’s voice was like a net cast into a tumultuous sea. She clung to its reassuring tone and looked at him. A sliver of reality slipped back into place. She took a deep breath and glanced back to Vern, but he had disappeared. The crowd pressed around them. Faye rose on her toes and scanned the bar, but the man was gone.

“Who are you looking for?”

A chill ran across her neck. She rubbed her arms. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Are you all right? You seem upset.”

No, she definitely wasn’t all right. “Can we get out of here?”

His gaze tracked upward, over her head, and around the bar.

Faye took his hand. “Please?”

Concerned? Placating? She couldn’t tell what his smile meant, and she didn’t care as long as they left. His fingers entwined with hers. Without a word, he turned and pushed his way through the crowd. She thought she heard her name being called but didn’t turn around to look. They circled around the spiraling steel staircase and stepped onto the transparent dance floor. A different colored light illuminated each step Faye took, spotlighting their departure for everyone on the second floor to see, including Satan’s little helper.

Thankfully Christopher didn’t stop until they reached the steps outside the club. The warm night air enveloped her and the music’s beat faded to a muffle as the door shut behind them. A line of people stood behind a red rope, waiting to get inside the club. Any one of them could have her spot.

Faye realized she still held the glass. She raised the drink and swallowed three large gulps. She handed Christopher the drink. “Want some?”

He took the glass, polished off the last of the G&T, and set it on the step. “Where to?”

Where to, indeed.
Was there any place that she would feel safe now that she’d met her demonic stalker? “Can we walk for a while?”

“Sure, and maybe you’ll tell me what happened in there.”

“Maybe.”

Neither spoke for several blocks. The silence wasn’t strained, but it also wasn’t comfortable. Faye pondered what Satan’s lackey had said about men falling at her feet. Everybody’s crazy behavior had to be a result from her hitting the
Follow
button. Maybe the Devil’s influence was working on Christopher. She cut her gaze to him. Maybe his affection was part of a bigger plan. Damn, she really liked him. It would completely suck if he only wanted her because Satan controlled him.