by Bella Klaus
Valentine’s hand slid atop mine, the skin of his palm as smooth as velvet. Desire trickled down my spine and heat spread across my skin. Despite three years of trying to forget the man, deep down, a traitorous part of my body still yearned for his touch.
Before that desire could reach Valentine’s enhanced sense of smell, I flinched away, pulling back my arm.
“Don’t touch me.” I raised my hand and struck at his face.
Valentine caught me by the wrist, a growl reverberating in the back of his throat. “Will you behave yourself and listen to what I have to say?”
My breath quickened, and heat rose to my cheeks. It had been a mistake to go for the slap. His reflexes were much faster than mine, and I’d just given him another chance to touch me.
Valentine’s eyes darkened, and red flecks appeared across his irises, indicating a heightened emotion or the need to feed. With a rolling growl that made my insides shudder, he asked, “Well?”
The pounding of my pulse filled my ears, and every ounce of moisture evaporated from my throat. “Let me out.”
“In the middle of Park Lane?” he asked with a smile.
“I’ll walk the rest of the way back to work.” I pulled at the hand restraining my wrist, but he was too strong, too persistent, too determined to carry out this abduction.
For what felt like the hundredth time since he’d haunted the crystal shop, I asked myself why. Why someone could shatter a girl’s heart and return on the day she decided to move on. Why he had chosen me as a target for his sick games. Why he wouldn’t believe me when I demanded that he leave me alone.
Breathing hard, I lowered my lashes, careful not to spend too long in his gaze. Vampires could enter the mind of a weak supernatural, and the only defense from this was avoidance.
After what felt like an eternity, he released my arm. “Are you hungry?”
It was like igniting a match. Didn’t this blood-sucking wanker just tell me there was an assassin after my hide? Or had that been a sick attempt to make conversation?
“Why aren’t you listening to a word I say?” I asked from between clenched teeth.
“Mera,” he said my name like a sigh. “I know you’re disappointed with—”
“Don’t,” I snapped. If he dared to describe our last encounter as disappointing, I would throw my Dharma salt into his eyes.
Valentine frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t presume you know anything about me.”
He tilted his head to the side and studied my features like I was a point of endless fascination. It was the sort of look a person gave a malfunctioning computer when trying to work out which button would activate a reset.
“You’re always stressed when you’re hungry,” he said, sounding nostalgic.
“I’m agitated because unlike some people, I follow through with my commitments,” I snapped. “Now, will you please let me out so I can tend to my client?”
The twinkle in his eyes and the tiny smirk on his full lips told me he didn’t believe a word about my wanting to tend to Jonathan.
What annoyed me most was that he ignored the barb I’d directed at him about commitments. Being a vampire royal sure made a person think they were beyond reproach.
Valentine patted my hand. “We can discuss everything over a quiet meal.”
His idea of a quiet meal turned out to involve dining in the Dorchester Hotel, which the limo approached by driving the three-mile perimeter of Hyde Park in busy lunchtime traffic. By the time we reached our destination, my stomach growled, making Valentine shoot me I-told-you-so smirks.
They wouldn’t have been so aggravating if Macavity hadn’t stolen my last croissant this morning. Aunt Arianna’s homemade chocolates should have arrived by now, but either she’d forgotten to send them or they were delayed in the post.
Valentine stepped out of the limo first, letting in a gust of cold air. “Shall we?”
“What do you want?” I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth.
Every dream I’d had about Valentine had either ended in an orgasm or waking drenched in perspiration with slick folds and a heart pounding in time with the pulse between my legs.
If I maintained my dream weavers, I could keep him out of my thoughts, but one slip-up, and this dinner would give my mind fodder for even more vivid dreams.
“Come.” Valentine reached into the limousine and took my hand, the touch sending sparks across my skin.
I stepped into the restaurant with Valentine, cringing at being miserably underdressed in jeans and a sweater and woefully inappropriate on his arm. Two huge vampires trailed after us, looking like they could smash the place up with their fists. Dotted around the place were suited people whose supernatural energies radiated off them like sirens. I clenched my teeth. Of course Valentine would have planted his people here. He never left anything to chance.
Looking at us together, anyone would think I was his intern and not his ex. Thankfully, someone had checked my white coat, and I’d already stuffed the gloves in my pocket.
The waiter guided us through a foyer of green lights trailing down the walls like ivy, into the restaurant’s luxurious interior. Every wall was paneled with mahogany with deep green carpets that reminded me of freshly-mown grass. Elegantly dressed people sat around round tables, enjoying beautifully presented food on large, white plates.
I wasn’t exactly intimidated. Beatrice often treated us to places like this when she got Groupon vouchers or when the upscale places gave the employees of her accountancy firm special offers. It just felt strange to be out in public with Valentine. Even stranger was the sight of people casting him admiring glances but not rising off their seats to bow.
My gaze landed on one couple who sort of matched us—a tall, dark, and suave-looking man in a suit dining with a blonde woman about my age. While she wore a dress as casual-looking as my jeans, the paisley tattoos running up her arm gave her the look of an artist.
At the center of the restaurant, a thick curtain of optical fibers shimmered down from the ceiling, forming an opaque, circular space. The waiter led us into the sectioned-off area to a round table set for two but large enough to seat at least six.
Large shadows settled outside the curtain, and the combined magic of his guards wrapped around my neck like a noose. I was trapped. Trapped to spend at least an hour with the man I despised.
Valentine pulled out my chair the way he did every time we dined together back in his palace in Logris. There were plenty of restaurants in our supernatural city, plenty of places a man could take a young woman, but we always went to the human world. That’s because he didn’t want to be seen. With me. A lowly Neutral only good for one thing.
My nostrils flared, sending a fresh surge of fury through my veins. Having read a whole host of women’s magazines and learned a lot about male behavior since moving to London, I now recognized his behavior for what it was. He’d totally been seeing me on the down-low.
I hadn’t been totally naive. When I’d asked, he explained that he didn’t want me to suffer the spotlight until I was sure that I wanted a relationship with a vampire king. He never introduced me as his girlfriend to anyone within his household, nor had he explained my presence whenever I’d visited. The only thing that puzzled me about this down-low arrangement was why he hadn’t had sex with me right away.
Ignoring his attempt to be a gentleman, I walked around the table and slipped into the leather seat opposite. Valentine’s lips pressed into a tight line, but he made no comment on my rudeness. How could he when I at least had the dignity to snub him in private?
As soon as we were both seated, the waiter filled our water glasses and returned with a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Not just any old bottle, but a Rayas 2007 vintage he’d served me on the unforgettable afternoon he had taken my virginity.
I pushed away images of the picnic he had set up within the rose garden of his palace, of how he had knelt in front of me holding a diamond engagement ring that
resonated with his magic.
My throat thickened, and I fought back memories of bursting into tears of happiness before he undressed me on the rug and pleasured me with a tenderness that made my toes curl, my heart ache, and my lips murmur his name over and over until the words became a moan. Afterward, he whisked me into his bedroom and we spent the rest of the afternoon making love.
My heart pounded. A rush of heat filled my veins and surged to my cheeks. What the hell was this—his attempt at rekindling old mockeries?
I raised my head and met eyes that stared at me through a haze of affection I now recognized to be false. If he wanted a public scene, it wasn’t going to happen. The girl who broadcasted her emotions to a baying audience died that night in Logris.
The waiter poured a small sample into Valentine’s glass, allowing him the first taste. When Valentine inclined his head, the waiter turned to me with the bottle.
I shook my head. “None for me, thank you.”
Valentine waved the waiter away.
As soon as the man disappeared behind the shimmering curtain, I asked, “What’s this really about?”
“Eat something first,” Valentine said. “You look like you haven’t slept well in days.”
I pointed at the tattoo on my wrist. “It’s been difficult to focus on relaxing with a magical anomaly etched into my body. Tell me something, or I’ll leave.”
“It’s firestone.”
“Obviously,” I snapped. “Why are you part of a plot to infect me with an object used to store a dangerous and explosive power?”
His brows rose. “I’m impressed you identified it.”
Actually, that had been Istabelle, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Valentine and have him change the subject.
He stared at me, looking for the reaction I used to give him in response to compliments: heated cheeks, lowered eyelashes, and a stuttered denial. That wasn’t going to happen.
The waiter returned with a bowl of bread rolls, butter, and quails’ eggs served in teaspoons. I continued glaring at Valentine until he spoke.
“Your aunt, Arianna, came to the palace last month.”
My lips parted. I’d spoken to her two weeks ago, and she hadn’t once mentioned having contacted Valentine. “Is she alright?”
“Someone told her a mage had been asking about you, and she wanted to know if the inquiry came from the Supernatural Council.”
I held my breath. There were seven monarchs in the Supernatural Council, each representing one of the seven supernatural races—vampires, shifters and weres, demons, angels, faeries, witches, and elemental mages.
There was no reason why any of them might have an interest in me. Not even the Witch Queen knew of my existence, and I came from a long line of her subjects.
“Why did she come to you and not our queen?” I asked.
Valentine frowned. “Isn’t the answer obvious?”
“No,” I snapped.
After Valentine had dumped me, I had returned to Aunt Arianna in tears. She had thrown her arms around me, saying it was better to know a vampire’s heart before I’d made the mistake of becoming enthralled by him—or worse, pregnant with his vampire offspring.
He dismissed my words, seeming as though he didn’t want to bother giving me an explanation. “A group of enforcers broke into your cottage early this morning.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Is Aunt Arianna—”
“She was out on a Samhain retreat,” he replied.
The longest breath of relief escaped my lungs, and I slumped into my seat.
“Grosvenor Square is no longer safe.” Valentine leaned across the table and offered me his hand. “We’ve prepared a warded safe house in London. You can move in there with me—”
I pulled my hands into my lap. “Not as your mistress!”
He paused. “No.”
My wretched heart had the gall to sink. I don’t know why because I was perfectly content without Valentine and ready for a relationship with someone else. I neither wanted him nor needed him, but something about what he said set off a tiny alarm.
“Is the Supernatural Council investigating me?” I asked.
Another pause. “They shouldn’t be.”
They wouldn’t have any reason to track me because I hadn’t done anything wrong except be duped by one of their own. And I’d left, not lowering myself to raise a fuss.
Whoever had been asking after me couldn’t have been an old friend from the academy. Neutrals were rare and often overlooked. Besides, if their intentions were innocent, they would have asked Aunt Arianna directly for my contact information.
The waiter arrived with our starters of tuna tartare, served with sliced radishes, avocados, and a ginger sauce. I took a bite of the fish and nearly hummed out loud as it melted in my mouth. There was nothing better in the world than sushi.
“How’s the food?” Valentine asked.
“It would taste better if I knew what you were hiding.”
He exhaled an impatient sigh. “I’ll take you to the safe house after lunch. If it’s not to your liking, you can choose somewhere else.”
I sat back and shot him my most venomous glower. “There’s no reason anyone would come after me, since I haven’t said or done anything wrong.”
He was about to answer when the waiter brought our main course, a Wagyu sirloin that was so tender it disintegrated in my mouth. The buttery meat combined savory with sweetness and was served with charred broccoli, garlic mashed potatoes, and roasted cauliflower.
Valentine didn’t bring up the subject of my supposed danger, and I took that to mean he’d given up on trying to convince me to go to this mystery safe house for reasons he was unable or unwilling to divulge.
Dessert was my absolute favorite—a chocolate and hazelnut bomb that imploded the moment I doused it with warm chocolate sauce. Valentine ordered a hazelnut gelato, which he pushed across the table, and chuckled when I set upon it like a ravenous cat.
Perhaps sweet things were my weakness, but it would never be my heart.
As we enjoyed the most delicious blend of Black Ivory espresso, he leaned across the table and frowned. “What kind of services do you offer in the crystal shop?”
“None, right now, since you pulled me out of work,” I snapped.
His brows rose. “Mera?”
I knew it was childish, but I wanted him to feel what it was like to squirm. “Oh, you know…” I took another sip, letting the bitter taste roll over my tongue. “A bit of this, a bit of that. Anything to keep the customer happy.”
“And this Jonathan fellow is a regular?” he asked.
I nodded but didn’t elaborate. Even I couldn’t muster up words convincing enough about Jonathan to portray him as anything but mildly annoying and overly clingy.
The phone in my pocket buzzed, making me flinch.
Valentine raised a brow. “Answer it.”
“I’ll listen to the voicemail later.”
His features tightened, and a petty flare of triumph warmed my chest. If he was looking to overhear my conversation with whoever had just called, I was onto him.
We sat in silence, staring at each other from across the table. Valentine’s looks were everything—sleek, black hair with highlights that changed color according to the surroundings, a strong brow and sharp cheekbones.
I avoided his eyes because a girl could get lost in those orbs for hours, and dropped my gaze to his full, curving lips and dimpled chin.
After having a guy like that, it was no wonder I couldn’t muster up an interest in human men. Valentine looked like the god of scoundrels and seduction had carved him out of bronze and breathed him into life.
“Will you at least consider a bodyguard?” he asked.
“Like the man who stood outside the shop?”
Valentine inclined his head.
“Do I have any choice?”
He flashed me a grin of dazzling eyes and impossibly white teeth that made my heart flip.
> Tamping down my reaction, I twisted my features into a scowl. “What’s the point of asking me?”
Valentine raised a shoulder. “At least the next time a vampire follows you across the square, you can be assured he’s looking out for your safety.”
I paused, examining his face for clues of duplicity, but Valentine had always been such a convincing liar. My lips tightened. It wasn’t as though I had any choice in the matter. Valentine would send whoever he wanted to follow me wherever I went. He was probably only asking me as part of an elaborate plan.
“Fine,” I said with a sigh, “But this vampire of yours had better not get in my way.”
The corners of his lips curved into a smile. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what the hell Valentine was scheming.
Chapter Six
After excusing myself to go to the bathroom, I took the long route around the hotel, feeling out for signs of Valentine’s guards. They’d all lined the main pathway from the entrance to the restaurant, so I found myself able to take a side exit undetected.
I stepped out of the hotel, grimacing at the line of people waiting for black cabs. By the time Valentine realized I had ditched him, I’d still be out here, a standing target.
On the other side of the busy highway was Hyde Park in all its leafy glory. Right now, I could disappear into those trees, but it would mean crossing that busy road. Cold wind swirled through my hair, beckoning me to get moving or it would freeze my ass. The crystal shop was only a ten-minute walk away and would be shorter if I cut through the back streets.
Instead of turning right into Park Lane and enjoying the sights of the park, I took the nearest street and hurried down the side of the hotel. Valentine was probably rising from his fancy booth, wondering what was taking me so long. Too bad I’d be back home before he realized I’d had enough of his edicts and half-truths.
Wrapping my arms around my chest, I hit the paving stones at double time. The white coat was still in the cloakroom where the waiter had checked it, and I hadn’t been about to alert Valentine of my leaving by trying to get it back.
I left that lunch more confused than ever, still not knowing if this supposed danger hanging over my head was an elaborate hoax. It helped me understand one thing: Valentine Sargon was as slippery as he was untrustworthy.
