Sweetblood 02.5 - Enchanted by Blood (3 page)

That raven hair of hers swung playfully against her delicate jawbone as she moved. Earrings with ruby and amber crystals dangled like pendulums. Her cheeks were still flushed from the cold, and she kept her lips parted slightly, even after setting down her cup, as if she were catching her breath.

Or as if they’d just made love.

Intimate memories immediately flooded his thoughts. He was as powerless now to resist her charms as he’d been when they first met.

Last year, his grandmother had hired her to decorate the family estate for the holidays. Despite trying to remain aloof, he’d found various excuses to be with her. Not only was she one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, but he loved her funny stories, her sharp wit, her passion for making things beautiful. He could walk into one of the many rooms in the mansion and know that Charlotte had done something to it, even if he couldn’t put his finger on what had changed. All he knew was that the room had a better feel.

The fact that she cared about the smallest detail fascinated him. Things he’d never deemed important—the placement of a decoration, the way the lights needed to hang just so, the perfect pleat in a pillow—began to have meaning to him because they had meaning to her. Hell, he’d even gotten into the habit of doing the karate-chop thing to fancy pillows, because it was something she’d done.

Everything about her was unexpected, including the first time they’d made love. He’d been helping her decorate one of a dozen holiday trees inside the mansion—each one with a different theme. As he recalled, this particular tree had a forest animal motif or something. She’d been on the ladder, reaching forward to hang a wooden squirrel ornament, when she lost her balance. He’d caught her before she hit the floor. He still remembered how she’d smelled that day. Like vanilla with a touch of evergreen tree. She’d even had pitch on her fingertips.

Before he’d known what he was doing, he’d kissed her. And she’d kissed him right back. The next moment, one hand was sliding under her red cashmere sweater and the other went to her tight little bottom. When she responded by curving her hips against his and wrapping her arms around his neck, it was all over.

Thank God they’d been in the library. He’d kicked the door closed, locked it and set her down roughly on the edge of the desk. Before he’d even unzipped his trousers, she’d lifted her skirt and removed her panties. He could still remember her fingers digging into his backside and the beautiful sound she’d made when he—

“Hello. Anyone in there?”

He blinked to find Charlotte looking at him, an ice pack on her wrist. The waitress was looking at him, too, her order pad out, her pencil poised above it.

And he had one monster hard-on beneath the paper napkin in his lap. Shit.

“What was the question?” He crossed his legs, put a hand casually over his knee.

“It’s a complicated one,” Charlotte said. “It goes something like this—‘Can I take your order’?”

Smart-ass. He laughed, balled up his napkin and tossed it at her. “What are you having?”

“I’m fine with just coffee.”

To the waitress he said, “I’ll have two eggs, over easy, with a side of bacon and an orange juice.” Ordering a meal would stretch the time he had with her. He waited until the waitress left to address Charlotte again. “So tell me, what you were doing walking alone on the streets at night?”

“I wasn’t. Not really.”

“Well, it sure looked that way when I saw you.” What the hell had she been thinking anyway? He knew precisely the kind of filth that roamed the streets at night and Charlotte had no business leaving herself vulnerable to it.

She told him about her friend leaving her stranded at the night club and about following a group of women almost to her car.

“Almost?” he asked her. “Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be
close?
” She lifted an eyebrow as if to taunt him, her eyes sparkling with mischief over the rim of her coffee mug.

“Excuse me?”

“The expression is, ‘close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.’ Not
almost.
”

He’d forgotten how she’d loved being right and pointing out how he was wrong about things that didn’t matter. Just like his grandmother, she was a trivia hound and a member of the grammar police. Which was probably why the two had gotten along so well. His grandmother had been sorely disappointed when he’d told her about wiping Charlotte’s memory—she hadn’t spoken to him for weeks afterward. But she knew the rules just as well as he did. If humans found out about the existence of vampires, their memories had to be erased.

There’d been too many instances in the past when this hadn’t been done and rumors of vampire attacks panicked whole villages. Those had been dark days for their kind, caused by a few careless individuals. The Council was formed to establish a rule of law for his kind to live by in order to keep their existence secret.

Charlotte was looking at him expectantly. He almost argued with her about the horseshoe thing—he was pretty sure she was wrong—but he didn’t. He couldn’t let her affect him that way. The playful teasing. The easy back-and-forth. He couldn’t let her work her way into his heart again. For his sake and hers, he needed to remain detached. He’d stay long enough to make sure she was okay to drive and that would be it.

When the waitress returned with their order, his stomach growled. He’d had no idea how hungry he was. The meeting tonight at the field office had involved dinner, but he hadn’t felt like eating then.

“How is your wrist feeling?” he asked, lifting the eggs onto the toast with a fork. “Is the ice helping? Think you’ll be ready to drive in a few minutes?”

A shadow passed across her features. She nodded and turned slightly away from him, rattling her coffee mug as she set it in the saucer. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She was not fine. She was clearly still shaken up. Frazzled. Hell, knowing what those guys had been planning still had him freaked-out, too.

While Charlotte had another cup of coffee, he finished eating. He couldn’t let her drive home like this, he decided. No way, no matter how unwise it was to prolong his time with her.

“I’ll give you a lift and you can come back for your car tomorrow.”

“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t. I offered.”

She sucked in her lower lip, chewed on it a moment as she played with the balled-up napkin he’d thrown at her.

He tried again. “I won’t be able to relax until I see that you’re home safe and sound.”

If she said no, he could always follow her. Or he could check up on her later, assuming she lived in that same little house east of Lake Washington. Yeah, he could make sure she was safe, but she’d still be freaked-out. The overwhelming urge to comfort her and take away her fear was too much for him to ignore.

She narrowed her eyes, tilted her head just slightly. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” He could’ve sworn he saw a hint of relief in her expression. He quickly paid the bill and ushered her out of the restaurant.

CHAPTER THREE

WHAT HAD POSSESSED HER to let this man drive her home? In her car?

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the console between them, he sat comfortably in the driver’s seat of the Volvo, as if he’d been driving strange women home all his life.

She studied him out of the corner of her eye. He appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties, the lines in his face apparent only when he frowned or smiled. His light brown hair was fairly short, yet long enough to look messy. Bed-head messy. He had large, capable hands, with slender fingers and short, neat nails. She’d always felt you could tell a lot from a man’s hands. His were fairly smooth, but there was a rugged quality to them that suggested they hadn’t always been that way. If those hands were anything to go by, she’d guess he had brains and brawn.

One of the most attractive men she’d ever seen, he had an intense magnetism about him that was undeniable. If he’d kissed her back in the restaurant, she was pretty certain she wouldn’t have refused him. But letting him drive her home? God, what was she thinking?

Rather than taking his car, he’d insisted they take hers, then he’d call a cab to bring him back. At first she’d protested. He’d done enough to help her out. But when she remembered her busy day tomorrow, she had second thoughts. The meeting with Mrs. Wilson was first thing in the morning. If she had to come back beforehand to pick up her car, it’d put her way behind schedule. She just couldn’t do that to the woman. Her client was keyed up enough as it was.

Readjusting the bag of ice on her wrist, she stared out the window at the twinkle lights on the trees lining this city block. It wasn’t like she was pulling a Kari, going home with anyone who suited her fancy. She was simply taking up a Good Samaritan on his offer, that was all.

She watched, mesmerized, as he tapped his pointer finger on the steering wheel to some unknown beat. Her heart seemed to synchronize itself to the rhythm. One…two…three…four.

What would it feel like to have that hand sliding over her flesh? Her face heated at the thought. Would he be gentle or commanding? Were his fingers dexterous and skilled, able to find all the right places and know what to do when they got there? She was certain that this man knew his way around a female’s body. He was too gorgeous not to have been with many women.

Okay, she seriously had to stop thinking this way. She shifted awkwardly in her seat, trying to eliminate the sudden twinge in her lower belly. It was as if she could feel the beat of her heart there. Calling to him. Needing him.

Char, come on, girl. You’re not Kari.

Reaching into her handbag, she pulled out a tube of lip balm and smeared some on her lips.

It wasn’t just his hands that captivated her. His eyes did, as well. Inside the restaurant, she’d found herself staring at them, wondering if they were blue or gray. With just a rim of color around the edges, his pupils were unusually large, like twin tunnels leading straight to his soul. She could totally get lost in those eyes if she weren’t careful, agree to things that she’d normally never consider.

At this time of night, traffic over the floating bridge was light. Less than a half hour after leaving the diner, they were pulling up to her house. She started to reach for the door handle and winced as pain shot through her wrist.

“I’ll get it.” In a flash, he was out of the car and opening her door.

She stared at the long, narrow walkway through the trees and cursed herself for not having replaced a few of the burned-out landscaping lights. The house was set back from the road and these patches of darkness would’ve really freaked her out if Trace hadn’t been with her. She couldn’t imagine walking here on her own after what she’d experienced tonight. “I can’t thank you enough.”

She glanced at him as they strode toward her front door. She couldn’t help but notice that he carried himself with a casual elegance and didn’t look at all like someone who had just beaten up a couple of hoodlums in a dark Seattle alleyway. “It was nothing.”

“So, what do you do for a living?” she asked as she stuck the key in the lock. “You really did seem like a law enforcement officer of some sort back there in the parking lot. Once I got over thinking you were one of the bad guys, that is.”

One side of his mouth curved up and when he rubbed a hand over his jaw, she heard the faint rasp of his stubble. Her face heated at how intimate it sounded. It was the familiar sound, not of a stranger, but of a lover first thing in the morning before he’d shaved. The heaviness again gathered low in her belly at the thought of waking up next to Trace.

“As a matter of fact, I am in private security. It’s a family-owned business. So I guess you could say that people’s safety and well-being is a concern of mine.”

Ah, that explained a lot. She swung the door open and stepped inside. “Can I get you something to drink before the cab gets here?”

He looked at her again with those fathomless eyes. “A glass of water would be great.”

She put her things down and entered the kitchen. “I take it you work downtown?” Now that she was back home and feeling a little more centered, she had a million questions for him.

“The company has offices all over the world,” he called from the other room, “but right now, I’m here.”

When she returned a moment later with his water, he was thumbing through her design portfolio, which she’d left on the coffee table, and absently petting her cat.

“Wow, Augustus doesn’t normally like strangers. I’m impressed.”

A shadow passed over his face, but just as quickly it was gone. “You’re an interior designer.” It was a statement, not a question. “With your own business?” He sounded surprised. Did he not like her work?

“Yes,” she said, her tone guarded. “I broke out on my own a few months ago.”

He scratched behind Augustus’s ears, nodding thoughtfully as if he were analyzing a business decision. “And what is the name of your company?”

“Charlotte Grant Designs. I do a lot of home decorating, also staging homes for sale.”

He looked confused as he flipped through more pages. “What are these party photos?”