Lover's Bite. Maggie Shayne

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      “Because I only just arrived myself.”

      “Yeah, but you took longer getting here.”

      “I had to go home first. Pack some things.” She tried not to sound too defensive.

      “I flew in immediately. I’ve been in town two nights already. And I’ve had time to do plenty.”

      She hated it when he contradicted her and managed to be right about it. “Why did you follow me?”

      “Technically, I didn’t. I got here first. Besides, I didn’t have to follow you. I knew where you were going. You told me, remember?”

      She lifted her brows, clearly surprised. “Not so you could follow me.”

      “Oh sure. Tell me there wasn’t some part of you secretly hoping I’d show up, and sweep you into my arms and kiss you until you gave it up to me. Come on, Topaz, you know it crossed your mind.” He put his hands on her shoulders and stared intently at her mouth, then jerked her just a little bit closer as he lowered his head.

      She could almost taste him and, God, right then she wanted to, more than she wanted to wake up again at sundown. But she had her pride. She ducked his kiss and turned away from him, so he wouldn’t see the naked hunger in her eyes. “If it did cross my mind, Jack, it was always preceded by the image of you handing me the rest of my money and telling me how sorry you were for taking it, and for using me and for hurting me.” She shrugged. “One ain’t gonna happen without the other, bud.”

      He lowered his head. She felt the motion rather than saw it.

      “So have you got my money?” She felt a little stronger now. Strong enough to turn and face him again.

      Without lifting it, he shook his head.

      “I didn’t think so. So I guess that means goodbye.”

      “No problem. I told you, I’ve got a place.”

      “And you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

      Sighing, he reached into his long coat, which he didn’t need, as the night was warm and vampires didn’t feel the cold the way mortals did, anyway. They noticed it, but it wasn’t uncomfortable for them. Jack’s coat, long and dark, was more fashion accessory than necessity. And he looked hot in it, damn him. He pulled a manila envelope from somewhere within that sexy coat and tossed it onto a marble stand just inside the door. “I know why you’re here, Topaz.”

      She jerked her head up, her gaze darting from that envelope to his eyes. “How?”

      “Hell, woman, get it through your head that I know you better than anyone ever has. You look enough like her that I’m surprised it’s not obvious to everyone. Or maybe I’m the only man who can see the real you. Tanya.”

      His words hurt. Probably because they were lies—beautiful lies, lies she’d wished some man would make true one day. But none ever had, nor ever would. Particularly not him. “Don’t ever call me that.”

      “It’s who you are, deep down.”

      “It’s not. It hasn’t been for a long time now.”

      He sighed. “Look, it doesn’t matter how I know. I know, that’s all. So I made a call to an…acquaintance of mine who’s connected. I got some inside info for you. And I don’t like what it implies.”

      “I don’t care what you like,” she lied. She was burning with curiosity. She wanted to open that envelope and pore over its contents right this second. She wanted to thank him. She wanted to kiss him.

      “Digging into your mother’s murder could be dangerous.”

      She frowned hard, but before she could decide which of the dozens of questions to fire at him first, he was out the door. “Lock up tight, baby,” he called. “It’ll be dawn soon.”

      She watched him go, having no idea where the hell he was going—which should be the least of her worries, she knew. He walked to the road and got into his hot-looking black car, started the engine. Then he turned on the headlights and roared away.

      Only then did she manage to close the door. She turned the locks not because he had told her to, but because it made sense. Then, her hands trembling, she took the envelope, opened the clasp and pulled out the paper-clipped sheets it contained.

      The cover page read: PROFILES OF PERSONS OF INTEREST IN THE MURDER OF MIRABELLA DUFRANE.

      “What the hell? They had suspects? I never knew of any suspects.” Topaz moved through the giant, sprawling foyer through a wide archway into the living room, which had a fireplace and soft sand-colored furnishings, white carpet, and wide, wide windows that were bare and uncovered and looked out at the vista beyond. Rolling dunes and the mighty Pacific. The scene was so breathtaking that she paused for just a moment to take it in.

      Then practicality intervened, and she glanced upward. Bamboo blinds, and window shades beneath them. Thank God, she thought. Those windows would let in way too much sunlight by day.

      Okay. She sank onto the soft sofa—into it, to be more accurate—and laid the sheets out on the glass-topped bamboo coffee table. And then she began to read.

      Jack parked the Carrera in front of a meter on a suburban street about a mile from where he planned to spend the night. He locked up the car, hoping no one would bother it, and put the maximum amount of change into the meter. It would get him through most of the day. And if he got a ticket toward sundown, so be it. It wasn’t like he would ever pay the thing.

      He took his bedroll from the passenger seat and, slinging it over his shoulder, began the walk to his temporary abode. It wasn’t much, a family crypt in a cemetery beyond the suburbs, surrounded by rolling fields and with no one around to observe anything amiss. The crypt belonged to the family Carlisle, and it was roomy and spacious, and any corpses inside had long since turned to dust. They didn’t keep it locked. Hell, who did these days?

      There was utterly no reason why a vampire should sleep in a crypt. He liked the poetic cliché of it, though. It spoke to his whimsical nature. Besides, no one would bother him there—and if they did, he could scare the bejesus out of them without much effort, which would be good for a laugh, if nothing else. The crypt was completely impervious to sunlight, the main necessity.

      Besides, it was the closest safe place to where Topaz would be sleeping today. And he didn’t want to get far from her. Nor did he want to sit around analyzing just why that was, thank you very much. Suffice it to say, he was pretty sure she was about to tread on some dangerous ground, maybe ruffle a few feathers, stir up some long dormant evil and put herself at risk. That should be reason enough to want to stay close.

      It wasn’t. But it should be.

      Of course, he had his other reason. She would be checking in with Reaper periodically, which he couldn’t very well do himself. Not without raising suspicion, at least. He was too new to the white-hats, not really one of them yet. Any concern he showed would be suspect.

      She could do it, though. And he could keep tabs on the big guy through her. That, too, should be reason enough to stay close to her.

      And СКАЧАТЬ