Relentless Seduction (15 page)

16

“C
LAIRE
!” F
INGERS
SNAPPED
an inch from Claire’s nose.

Claire blinked and brought her attention back to Julia.

The past few hours Claire had felt as if she were wandering around in a soupy fog.

Julia had taken charge, as she usually did when the two of them were together. Except where normally Claire would’ve worried about the arrangements and double-checked the details unbeknownst to Julia, she didn’t. It didn’t seem to matter.

After the cab dropped them at the police station, they’d spent a couple of hours filing the charges against Jed Banks, giving a detective separate detailed accounts of the events at the asylum tonight before they were finally allowed to leave.

The detective had a squad car deliver them to the Les Chambres Royale and asked them to stay in touch.

That was more than Rafe had done. Claire tried to put that thought out of her mind.

As Claire retrieved her luggage from the concierge, Julia turned to her. Did she want to get a room and shower and sleep for the rest of the night and find a flight later today?

Claire shrugged. She’d been in the same outfit for two days, but she didn’t care. Whatever Julia wanted to do.

Julia asked the concierge to check flights to Missouri and Boston. There was a charge to change the dates on their return tickets, but both cities had flights departing around 7:00 a.m. They could just go to the airport and get some breakfast there, Julia suggested. Get the heck out of this city.

Claire nodded. If that was what Julia wanted to do, that was fine. Why was Julia acting all exasperated?

“Hello? Earth to Claire.” Julia waved a hand.

“What?” Claire snapped. “Just do whatever you want. I honestly don’t care.”

Julia’s eyes bulged. “Do you hear yourself? What is going on?”

She took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. “I guess I’m just tired. Let’s get a room and leave tomorrow. What’s one more day?” She slipped her glasses back on and headed for the registration desk.

Julia grabbed her arm. “Hold on. You don’t feel the urgent need to get back to work as soon as possible? After you’ve been gone almost a week longer than you planned? Isn’t your boss going to be upset?”

“Oh, Beckley can go suck a lemon.”

“Oh. My. God.” Julia kept hold of her arm and led her to a comfy seating area off the main lobby. Julia pushed down on her shoulders till she sat and then pulled up an ottoman to sit directly in front of her.

Claire met Julia’s questioning gaze. But she had no answer. She shook her head. She shrugged. And all of a sudden tears welled in her eyes. No. She couldn’t be crying. Not again. She never cried. In twenty-nine years she could probably count the number of times she’d cried on one hand before this week. And they had all been before she’d turned ten.

“Oh, Claire.” Julia wrapped her arms around her and Claire lost whatever control she’d had. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Okay, let’s get a room. You need a hot shower, some breakfast and a long sleep, I think.”

She stood and walked briskly to the registration desk and came back within minutes, gathered Claire up and walked her to the elevator.

She took care of their luggage, pushed Claire into the bathroom after starting the shower running and by the time Claire stepped out of the steaming bathroom, a tray from room service waited on the table.

Numb, Claire ate, and then crawled into the double bed closest to the window. But her eyes wouldn’t close. When she rolled over, Julia was sleeping like the proverbial log. She felt the inexplicable depression settling over her again.

She grabbed her glasses off the side table and sat up. Distraction. That’s what she needed. She found the remote and turned on the television. Infomercial.
Click.
Infomercial.
Click.
Cartoons.
Click.
Ah, a movie. The hero had his left arm in a sling with only one arm in his jacket. Just as Rafe had. The heroine was telling him goodbye and boarding a plane. The plane started to take off. Through the window, she watched him standing there.

Then the heroine called out to the pilot to stop the plane. As it screeched to a halt she bolted out and ran into the hero’s arms. Even one-armed, he held her so tight, and as the music swelled they kissed with such passion it made Claire’s stomach ache. But they could never be together. Their worlds were too different.

Claire lost it. She pulled a pillow to her face and cried and cried. At least the singer had kissed him goodbye and told him she loved him. At least she’d had a moment of truth before returning to her lonely apartment in Boston and her coworkers she barely spoke to, and the excitement of ordering Chinese takeout every Saturday night and eating alone— Wait. She wasn’t thinking about the heroine anymore. She was picturing herself running back to that vampire bar and throwing herself into Rafe’s arms.

She clicked the TV off, lay back against the headboard and tried to picture herself actually doing that. Not as the actress in the movie, but in real life. She tried to picture what Rafe would do.

Then she squeezed her eyes closed.

He wouldn’t catch her in his arms and kiss her as if tomorrow was the apocalypse. He’d laugh her out of the bar.

No. He’d be nice about it. And that would be worse. He’d give her a look that was the equivalent of a pat on the head and gently push her away.
Love me?
he’d say.
You’re just grateful I helped you save your friend.

Was that all these feelings were? Gratitude?

It had to be. Now that the excitement of the past several days was over, it was only natural there might be some sort of emotional letdown. Right? She took her glasses off and forced herself to concentrate on relaxing her body.

It seemed she’d just closed her eyes when someone jostled her awake. “Claire. Come on, sleepyhead. I booked us flights and they leave in three hours.”

Claire opened her eyes and sat up.

Julia yanked open the curtains and bright sunlight blazed into the room. Claire moaned and squinted, reaching for her glasses.

Shoving down all the nonsense of last night, she dressed and packed, and checked out and got in a cab and checked in at the airport. Julia chattered most of the way, which was normal. Claire was always the quiet one in the friendship. And it helped her to keep ignoring the tumor of irrational emotion that seemed to be growing no matter how determined she was to push it down, deep down.

The airline attendant checked their boarding passes and they settled down to wait for their flights to be called. Claire stared out the bank of terminal windows, unseeing as she listened to Julia talk about coloring her hair red.

Her stomach hurt. She dug in her purse for an antacid or an aspirin. Anything. Her fingers touched Julia’s pendant necklace and she pulled it out, thinking she’d give it back to her.

As she looked up, her eyes focused on the windows and beyond them to a plane taking off down the runway. She shot to her feet and spun to Julia. “Here.” She extended the necklace dangling from her fingers.

Julia gasped. “My necklace! How’d you get it? After I woke up from spending the night with Shadow, I realized it was gone and that he’d probably stolen it. I was too ashamed to tell you.” She took it and clasped it around her neck.

“Sheer luck. A long story. Listen.” Claire grabbed her suitcase and overnight bag. Everything she’d been shoving down came boiling up and if she didn’t do something she was going to burst.

“What are you doing?”

“Listen, Julia. I—I can’t leave yet. I may make a complete fool of myself, but I have to try, you know? Otherwise I’ll—”

Julia squealed and jumped up to capture Claire in her arms. “Yes! Go! I was so hoping there was something between you and Rafe.”

“You were?”

“Oh, Claire. If you’d only seen the way you two looked at each other.” Julia was shaking her head, her lips pursed. “Puhlease.”

“Rafe was? I mean, looking at me?”

“Well, I guess I’m not the best judge of these things. I mean, I thought Armand loved me, didn’t I?” She peered off into the distance and scrunched up her face and then snapped her gaze back to Claire. “But that’s not important.” She waved her hand.

“It’s not?” Claire was losing her courage.

“No. It’s not,” Julia insisted. “What’s important is that you find out. Right?”

“Right.” Claire nodded. “Find out what?” She just wanted to be sure what Julia was saying made sense because right now everything was starting to seem surreal.

“If he loves you like he looked like he loved you last night.” Julia took hold of Claire’s shoulders, spun her to face the exit and pushed. “Now go! I’ll get our tickets changed to later flights and catch a cab to the hotel.”

Claire glanced back. “You’re not going home?”

“Are you kidding?” Julia grinned. “I have to see how this all turns out. Call me, okay?”

Claire nodded and started walking toward the exit. Walking accelerated to jogging. And jogging turned to running.

* * *

R
AFE
WOKE
UP
AS
HIS
head hit the floor. He groaned and lay still until the dizziness passed. Then he opened one bleary eye.

He was in his office. There was bright afternoon light slanting in through the blinds. He’d fallen off the sofa.

He closed his eyes and pressed his palms over them and rubbed. Or one palm, anyway. The other was half-covered in a cast.

Now he remembered. He’d taken the bottle of Wild Turkey—but not the tumbler—with him to his office last night, or early this morning, actually. He must’ve passed out.

Disgusted, he tried to sit up and pain shot through his head. His stomach was traveling on a fishing boat in choppy waters. He lay still until the queasiness subsided and then tried again. Water. Aspirin. He made it to the sink behind the bar and nearly spilled the aspirin trying to get the cap off with one hand. He had to slump down on a stool before he could swallow the medicine and toss back the glass of water.

He looked at himself in the mirror behind the bar and scowled. How had he let himself get like this? His gaze landed on the beer clock. Only an hour until he was supposed to open?

He shot off the stool and bolted up the stairs to his apartment, someone hammering wooden stakes into his head. He needed a hot shower, a thorough teeth brushing and a shave. All of which would take twice as long to complete with his arm in a cast. Mixing drinks with one hand was going to be a pain in the butt, too.

As he entered his apartment, he looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. Shabby, tiny, messy. The only thing of any quality was the bed. And the sheets were rumpled, the comforter lying in a heap on the floor. He found himself bending over the side where Claire had laid and inhaling. Yes. Just a hint of her scent, a clean, laundry detergent type of smell, but mixed with honey.

He closed his eyes and inhaled again, and saw her lying in his bed. Now he really was torturing himself. He ran a hand over the sheets and saw her long legs, her voluptuous breasts and her big brown eyes staring at him in wonder, as if he’d just reached up and plucked the moon from the sky and handed it to her on a silver platter.

No one had ever looked at him like that before. Just like no one had ever had his back in a fight before. He couldn’t believe she’d shown up and whacked Shadow over the head like that. He knew she couldn’t possibly be accustomed to such physical violence. And yet she’d said she was saving him.

Saving him...

His gut twisted and this time he didn’t think it had anything to do with a hangover.

He got cleaned up with barely a minute to spare and went downstairs to switch on the lights and music. Bulldog and his two waitresses were waiting as he unlocked the front door, as well as a fairly long line of goth and vampire-costumed customers.

Closing the bar last night didn’t seem to have hurt business. He took his place behind the bar and signaled to Bulldog to let ’em in. And he got busy filling orders. Draft beers, mixed drinks, the hard stuff on the rocks or neat.

Along with the regulars on stools were plenty of tourists in street clothes. Middle-aged couples wanting to add a little spice to their routine lives, Sorority girls looking for a hook-up and—Rafe froze. He blinked. Standing at the bar where he’d first seen her was a tall geeky-looking woman wearing thick glasses and a multi-colored knitted monstrosity with fringe. A riot of brunette curls framed her face.

He just stood and stared at her.

She met his gaze and the passion in her eyes made his chest expand with something like joy. Yeah, he was pretty sure this was joy he was feeling.

He sauntered over and leaned his right palm on the bar. “What can I do for you,
cher?
”

She bit her beautiful bottom lip and pushed her glasses up her nose. “I, uh...” She cleared her throat. She was adorable. He leaned over the bar, cupped her face with his good hand and kissed her.

With a whimper, she threw her arms around his neck and opened to him, deepening the kiss. Vaguely he noticed gasps and murmurs and whistles from the crowd, but all he could feel was Claire. In his arms, the taste of her, the scent.

“Come here.” He slid his hand around her waist and lifted and pulled and she hopped and landed her butt on the bar. In a denim skirt and half boots, she swung her legs over and slid down on his side and into his arms. Screw the sling, he needed to hold her.

Ignoring the complaints and grumbling from customers, he stared into her eyes. “This isn’t a goodbye kiss, I hope. ’Cause I’m not letting you go now. You’re caught in my vampire’s lair.”

She raised her brows, but her mouth was turned up at the corners. “Are you hypnotizing me to your will?”

He slowly moved her hair away from the tender part of her neck, sank his mouth onto the flesh, scraped his teeth and then kissed all along the curve of her neck. “Is it working?”

She dropped her head back and moaned. “Yes.”

He grinned. “Good.” He cupped the back of her head and covered her lips with his. With the kiss he tried to convey all the emotions he could barely name much less speak. Joy and hope. And love— Well, he should probably say that in a minute. He slanted his mouth over hers and poured his soul into the kiss.