by V. A. Dold
He sipped his coffee to wash the flavor from his mouth as he studied her. She was almost childlike in her enjoyment of the sweets. As she popped the last bite of the sugary treat into her mouth, he tipped his head in thought. Her name didn’t fit her. His woman was too vibrant for a man’s name. “Is Billie a nickname?”
She took a sip of coffee and grinned. “Of a sort. When we were just kids back in South Carolina some of my friends started calling me BJ while others called me Billie. My full name is Willamina Josephina Donnella Witt.”
His brows shot up at that.
“Yeah. I know.” She chuckled. “It’s a mouth full and way more than six-year-old girls could handle. So, they made up nicknames for me. Billie is the most often used.”
“Is it a family name?”
Billie barked out a laugh. “No. Even though my mother was a waitress and my father a plumber, she insisted that the last name of Witt was nowhere near fancy enough for any daughter of hers. My mother had delusions of grandeur, you see. So, she concocted the longest convoluted name she could think of.” Billie waved her hand as if shooing the story away. “Anyway, I’m stuck with the ridiculous moniker, so I make the best of it.”
Etienne grinned. “Your mother sounds like an interesting woman. Though, four names are a bit excessive, I agree with her that you are too beautiful for anything common. You should have a name that is lovely and unique.” He tugged his earlobe while considering the options. “I shall call you Willa.”
A shiver coursed through her as he spoke her new nickname. “I like that, and the way you say it. Your accent is very sexy.”
Before he knew what she was doing, she leaned into him and placed her warm palm against his cheek.
The breeze caught up strands of her hair and brushed them across his arm. The flowing tresses conjured images of her in his bed with all that color spread across his pillow. The fantasy played havoc with his self-control. Through sheer strength of will, he tamped his urges down.
At a respectable distance, Etienne was devastatingly attractive. Up close, he was hot, hot, hot! He was commanding and confident, some may even say a little arrogant, but he wasn’t like that with her. Her fingers ached to trace his cheekbones, jawline, and aristocratic nose. But it was his mouth that was the most fascinating and made her want to do naughty, naughty things.
Etienne beguiled Billie. His starchy, proper demeanor and manner of speech turned her on. Big time. And his accent—she couldn’t place it. It was the local Cajun French, but with a rich, rolling, smooth pronunciation that sounded much like an eastern European intonation. Whatever it was, he made her toes curl.
He pressed his cheek into her palm and gazed into her eyes as if he were soaking her in.
Etie drew her to him in a way she couldn’t explain. She was the proverbial moth to the flame. She prayed her wings didn’t get singed. The intensity of their connection scared her a little. She would never admit it, but the majority of her behavior was all for show. In actuality, she wasn’t as fast and loose as she pretended to be. Maybe it was the loneliness she sensed in him that muddled her brain. Her empathy urged her to comfort him. Impulsively, she closed the distance between them and captured his lips with her own.
Unexpectedly, his hands dug into her hair, and he kissed her back. Hard.
Willa braced her hands on the table for balance when he pulled her forward and deepened the kiss.
Suddenly, strong hands gripped her shoulders, hauled her out of her chair, and onto his lap. She could feel his erection, thick and long, beneath her thighs. Knowing she aroused him sent a thrill through her heart.
Her friends would never believe her, but it had been a long time since she’d been with a man. Not since rat bastard Robert three years ago. Etie was just what she’d been waiting for. He made her feel wanton and wild. Which straight-up scared her, but not enough to make her pull away.
He tilted her head and pulled her against his chest. His commanding kiss made her weak and took her breath. There was nothing starched or cultured about the way he kissed her. Nothing cultivated about the way he held her. He was demanding and intense. And devouring her.
Willa was getting lightheaded, so she took a breath through her nose. His rich, spicy scent made her head spin even more.
Somehow, her legs were no longer across his lap but straddling him. When did that happen?
His hands grip her hips and press her tighter against his raging erection.
Common sense told her that she should pull away, but the last vestige of propriety had floated away with the breeze. Her treacherous fingers pulled the leather tie from his ponytail and combed through the thick, black mass. The long length was like silk gliding through her hands.
Etienne was wholly unprepared for her kiss. Not that he was complaining. Willa was bold and sexy. She was a woman who took what she wanted. Thankfully, she wanted him.
The expression on her face when she’d touched his cheek had set his body on fire.
In all his years, he had never had a woman so exhilarating. One who met and matched his passion. There had only been a moment of hesitation, and no self-consciousness about his woman. Willa held nothing back from him.
She was fierce and fiery and stole every rational thought from his mind. So much so, it didn’t register that they were in a public place necking like teenagers.
His head swam as she kissed her way along his jaw, then down to nip at his neck. He shivered as he imagined her fangs sinking deep.
He was shocked by the unexpected carnal need to strip her bare and mark her as his. She nibbled his earlobe, and a strange buzzing filled his ears.
Etienne couldn’t think. Her mouth on his skin stole all rationality from his brain. Her taste intoxicated him, and her body fit his perfectly as she cocooned him with her soft womanly curves.
It was all he could do not to take her, right there, in front of pedestrians walking on the sidewalk a scant eight feet away.
That whisper of thought jolted him back to reality. Public! They were in public. “Willa, baby, we have to stop,” he breathed raggedly.
“Hmm?”
He hissed as she suckled his neck. “Please, shadíma, if you do not stop, I’m going to rip the clothes off your body and make love to you right here.”
She jerked upright and glanced around. “Oh… crap.”
“Eloquently said. I beg your apology. I got a little out of hand. Please forgive me.”
“It takes two to tango, Etie. I’m as much to blame as you.”
“That is very generous of you to say. But I should have controlled myself while we were in the full view of the public.” He kissed her one last time, a quick peck on her lips, and then lifted her from his lap and back to her chair. Releasing her was the hardest thing he had ever done. Every fiber of his being protested the loss of her warm, soft body.
He was rock hard and probably would be for days. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to his feet and held out his hand. She took it. “I think we should take a stroll and cool off.”
“I agree,” she whispered in his ear. “But Etie? The next time you kiss me like that, we had better be someplace private because I can’t promise that I won’t strip you bare and explore every inch of your body until you beg for mercy.”
Etienne staggered. He never, ever staggered. “Willa,” he groaned, “you cannot say things like that to me.”
She glanced at him and blushed. “I’m all about the honesty. Your kisses are dangerous. Like, land me in jail for indecent public acts dangerous. They make me do things I would never do, especially in public.”
Etie’s mouth quirked in amusement. “We certainly cannot have that. Orange is not your color.”
“You just made a joke.” Willa chuckled and shook her head. “You aren’t what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“At first, I thought—” She trailed off, heat creeping up her neck to her face again.
“What?”
“To tell the tr
uth, since we’re being honest, I thought you were a stalker or maybe a mugger. I felt you following me, but I couldn’t see you. Then when you introduced yourself, I thought you were kind of stuffy.”
“And now?”
She glanced at him and quickly away. “If I told you that, I would be in danger of wearing orange again.”
Etienne pressed his lips together to hide his happy grin. Willa was as hot and bothered as he was. “I can respect that.”
“By the way, what does shaw-dee-ma mean?”
“Shadíma is a formal endearment loosely translated as beloved.”
She flashed him a smile. “Nice. Okay, you can call me shaw-dee-ma whenever you want.” Her smile quickly morphed into an assessment of his face. “Why do you wear sunglasses at night?”
When he spoke again, he shamelessly used his voice on her. His tone deepened, laced with dark seduction. “My eyes tend to draw far more attention from women and even some men than I care to deal with. I better leave them in place. I would hate to put you in danger of a jail cell again.”
Willa quirked a brow. “Really” She drew the word out until it was three syllables instead of two. “I think I’ll chance it.” She stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “Come on, big guy. Take them off.” She lifted a hand as if to pull the glasses from his eyes.
He pulled back. “I would rather not.”
“Why?”
“What is so important about my eyes? Why do you need to see them?”
She gave him a sweet smile. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking if I can’t see them. And since I’m trying to get to know you, I would really like to know what’s going on in your head.”
Etienne paused and considered the ramifications. “I see your point.” He hesitated. “But, Willa,” he warned. “I do not want to scare you off.”
She rolled her eyes. “How on earth would your eyes scare me off?”
Etienne slowly raised his right hand to his glasses and paused. His jaw tightened. Then he extended his left hand to her. “Give me your hand so I know you cannot run from me.”
Willa did as he requested.
He closed his eyes and pulled the glasses away.
She huffed out a breath. “Stop being such a scaredy-cat.”
His gut clenched. If she rejected him, it would kill him. Tightening his hold on her hand, he slowly raised his lids and looked her in the eye. He flinched, and his heart shattered when she inhaled sharply.
Chapter Four
His irises were the most astonishing color she’d ever seen. Such a pale blue, they looked almost white with streaks of silver. Framed by thick, black lashes, they seemed to glow as if they were illuminated from within, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the color shifted and swirled.
Willa couldn’t decide which she liked better, his lips or his eyes.
“Willa?”
His voice was soft, pitched low, a warm caress that brushed across her skin, promising all sorts of enjoyable things. She smiled and swayed a little closer.
“Willa,” he said more firmly.
She blinked rapidly to focus her fuzzy gaze. Then she frowned. “What?”
“Are you all right? You are acting strangely.”
She closed the small gap between them and placed her free hand over his heart. “I’m perfect.” She brushed her fingertips across his brow and smiled at him again. “Your eyes are beautiful.”
Willa knew Etienne had a powerful aura, or energy, whatever you wanted to call it. The instant they met, she’d felt it. But now that she was staring into his eyes, the power coming off of him was tremendous. And somehow the act of gazing into those gorgeous silver orbs had forged an unbreakable bond between her and this man.
She glanced away so she could think. Gazing directly into his eyes fogged her brain. She should be hightailing it away from Etienne. Whatever was happening wasn’t natural. Not at all. Yet, the connection didn’t frighten her. Why?
She raised her eyes again and caught his searing, albeit hypnotic, gaze. She slid her palm from his chest to squeeze his hand and grinned when a tentative smile hovered at the edges of his perfect lips. Etie was indescribably masculine with the glasses on. Without them, he was beyond words.
He raised her hand to his lips like a gallant suitor from days gone by. Her heart pounded at the sensation of his warm lips on her flesh. It was all she could do not to jump him.
“You are not frightened by my eyes?”
“No! Not so much frightened, but there is something... it’s hard to describe. The color is extraordinary.”
“Thank you.”
“Was that a blush? It was! You’re blushing.”
“Perhaps. I am not accustomed to compliments.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s hard to believe. You’re a very handsome man.”
Etienne scowled. “Oh, I am propositioned relentlessly, but I rarely receive such a heartfelt compliment. Definitely not one that was not followed up by the suggestion of lewd sexual acts.”
Willa reached up and cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry, Etie, that’s awful. It’s never okay to treat another like a piece of meat.”
He nodded and covered her hand with his own as if he relished the contact.
The instant his palm curved over the back of her hand, heat and little sparks sizzled along her arm, across her breasts, and straight to her core. It seemed as though their strange connection grew stronger each time they touched. She pulled herself together and tucked that thought away for a later date. She would ask her witchy friends about it and see if they could explain things. Until then, she planned on enjoying her very odd evening with the suit-wearing hottie.
Willa tipped her head, studying his eyes again. “I’ve never seen such a stunning shade of blue. It’s so light, it looks silver.”
“Actually, my eyes are silver. It is a family thing. My father had eyes this color as well.”
“Really?”
“In my family, the firstborn son always has silver eyes.”
Her brows pulled together. “I’ve never heard of anything like that. I wonder why.”
“It is a royal vampire characteristic to mark the next in line for the throne.”
“Vampire? Now you’re just messing with me because of that stupid tour.”
His face fell as if she’d hurt him. “Do you believe I would tell you an untruth?”
“I didn’t mean to imply you’re a liar. Let’s just say I have a very healthy degree of doubt.”
Grinning, he bent and kissed her throat, scraping his fangs across the tender flesh. Her heart skipped a beat or two. She was certain of it. His hair fell forward to brush along her cheek and shoulder. Her knees went weak, and she felt a little faint.
“Hmmm, a healthy degree of doubt,” he repeated, his voice going dark and sensual again. Then he nipped her lobe and whispered in her ear. “I shall endeavor to make a believer out of you.”
When he raised his head, Willa blinked several times and then smiled brightly as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.
“Do your best, Mr. Delacour.”
He grinned back. “You remembered my last name.”
His voice gave her goose bumps, and she swore his fingers brushed intimately over her skin. “I remember everything about you. At least the little I know so far.” Suddenly her back pocket started to sing Barry White’s “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Baby.” She held up a finger and pulled her phone out. “Hold that thought.”
“Richie!”
“Hey, girl. The nonvampire tour is finally over, and we’re at the Cat’s Meow on Bourbon Street. The bar’s crowded, but we managed to pull a couple tables together. Hurry up, before you miss out on all the fun.”
“We’re only a few blocks away. See you in a few minutes.”
“See you.”
She ended the call and grinned up at Etie. “How do you feel about karaoke?”
He raised a brow. “Why?”
“Our next stop is the Cat’s Meow.” T
hen she held out her palm. “I like being able to see your eyes. Why don’t you let me put those glasses in my purse for now?”
After only a short pause, he handed them over. “I feel rather naked without them, but for you, anything.”
“I appreciate that. Come on, they’re holding seats for us.”
Richie turned in his chair as the acrid smell of fear and sudden shifting of the bar patrons caught his attention. Men and women scrambled to move out of the flow of foot traffic. He watched to see what the commotion was about. A woman gasped and scurried to the opposite end of the room. Someone or something was headed his way, and the humans were reacting to it.
As if Moses stood in the center of the room with his staff raised, the sea of humanity divided. Several groups rushed to find an alternative exit as their flight response drove them to flee.
Etienne filled the doorway emanating dark, dangerous energy. Six feet, four inches of muscle that seemed to ripple even as he stood still. Richie frowned. Etienne’s obsessively neat ponytail was glaringly absent. The vampire king’s coal black hair that ran halfway down his back hung loose around his shoulders. His mouth fell open. Holy hell! He has his freaky eyes out there flapping in the breeze for all to see. Where were his glasses? Had Hell frozen over?
Richie’s brows pulled together as he watched his friends cross the room. Etienne kept his hand on the small of Billie’s back, scowling at any male who dared to glance her direction. What was going on? That vampire never, ever, touched anyone and especially not in public. He looked back and forth between the two trying to suss out the strange behavior.
Hmmm. Even more interesting was that Billie didn’t seem to notice his possessive manner. If she had, she would be kicking his ass right now. At least the Billie he knew would. Come to think of it, he’d never actually seen her on a date with a man. So, who knew how she behaved on a date.
Whoa! What? On a date? Etienne and Billie? Richie rubbed his hands together. This he had to see. He glanced around to see if there was a popcorn machine. He needed salty snacks for the show. Badass Billie was going to eat him alive.
