by Sophia North
She may have played it cool the other night in the bar, but her attraction to him had been overwhelming. He'd exuded an intense sense of power...and danger. Two qualities she usually never found attractive in men. But then, he wasn't a man, was he?
"Forgive the intrusion, Simone," Alessio said smoothly, entering the library shortly after being announced by Alfred. Seeing Hannah, he stopped short in his tracks. "Miss Woodville?"
"Oh bother," Hannah exclaimed, realising she'd dropped her drink. Getting up from her chair, she retrieved the still intact glass. Thankfully, it had almost been empty so the damage to the carpet was minimal.
"You know Hannah?" Simone questioned sharply. She'd not revealed her plans to use her father's Ophanim Order contacts to try and break the Dragon Curse with Alessio. In fact, very little of Penny and Vlad's predicament had been shared with him full stop. The way he'd behaved during Vlad's trial had strained their relationship and if not for Dante's MIA status, they'd probably not be on speaking terms. But until her husband was found and returned, she needed him and thus, she would play ball. As would Vlad, who had even more reason to distrust the Grand Elder than anyone.
"We met at Claridge's the other night," Alessio explained, his eyes gleaming with suspicion at finding the young woman with Simone. "She was there dining with Horatio. It is a pleasure to meet again, Miss Woodville, albeit under rather unusual circumstances. You remember my associate, Gabriel?"
She must have looked a right idiot. Crouched beside a chair, holding an empty Martini glass was not exactly the most sophisticated way to meet again. Not that she'd thought they ever would, but still, a bit more decorum would have been better.
Standing up, Hannah tucked an errant black curl behind her ear that had dropped over her eye when she'd bent down. She'd struggled with what to wear tonight, wanting to appear both professional but not too business-like. In the end, she'd settled on a pair of smart black trousers with a sleeveless deep red wrap-styled shirt. Elegance with a hint of daring epitomised. It was Friday night after all, and she hadn't wanted to appear too stuffy.
Meeting his eyes, Hannah could see he approved of what he saw. He let his gaze wander up and down her slowly, as if undressing her with his eyes. A slow, sexy grin of approval snaked its way across his handsome face.
Unable to stop the reaction, she felt her heart flutter at his blatantly sensual assessment of her. His dark and dangerous presence was playing hell with her senses.
Gabriel couldn't believe his good fortune at finding himself back in the alluring presence of Miss Woodville again so soon. He'd been contemplating how he'd orchestrate another encounter with the lovely young thing. Her innocence captivated his imagination in ways he'd not felt in a very...very long time.
Then the reality of her being here and its implication hit him like a ton of bricks. Why was Hannah Woodville in a house surrounded by some of the most powerful vampyres - past and present - in Lowerton? Which then begged the question, what exactly did the woman know about the vampyre world?
"Miss Woodville, it's a pleasure to see you again," Gabe greeted warmly, acting like there was nothing unusual occurring. Turning to the lady of the house, he said, "May I also extend my thanks for allowing my associate and I into your beautiful home, Simone. Please, allow me to introduce, Lash Codona."
Gabriel's 'associate' bore a striking resemblance to Penny's husband. But on a noticeably different scale. Like Vlad, he had long shoulder-length blonde hair and a strong square jaw. But unlike his near-double, Lash did not tower above the crowd. Nor was his six foot plus frame a wall of muscle.
Lash was built, but leaner. Yet it was his bright blue eyes which really set them apart. They danced with humour at the spectacle this meeting with a harmless group of the fairer sex was creating.
Everyone seemed at sixes and sevens with one another. Except for Gabriel. He was being curiously polite and incredibly difficult to read. Lash had never seen his leader act so strangely towards a woman before. Normally he'd assess whether they were bedding material and gauge his interactions from there. It was either a 'I'll be having you' or 'not my type' kind of reaction. But not tonight. Tonight it was impossible to know what his Legatus thought of Hannah Woodville.
"Ladies, I hope we haven't interrupted your evening," Lash replied.
"No bother whatsoever," Simone replied. "Hannah is an old friend from school. My father was kind enough to keep our dinner plans the other night, after I was unable to attend. We were all just catching up."
Hannah hoped Simone's weak explanation would suffice. Unfortunately, by the looks on Alessio and Gabriel's faces, she could tell they were not buying it. And why would they? If it sounded lame to her, she could only imagine how ridiculous they found it.
Hannah? Simone’s voice whispered in her head. I hope this is working, my powers are still developing but I'm going to try something, so if you can hear me...back up my story. However ridiculous it may sound.
Startled by Simone's silent command, Hannah's eyes widened slightly in response. But she did as she was asked. "Yes, the three of us are old school chums from Godolphin's. Different years, mind you. Penny and Simone are older than me...but still, we were all rather close back then." Good god, what on earth was she rambling on about? She was meant to help their cover story, not obliterate it further.
Gabriel's green eyes narrowed. Their cover story was obviously failing to convince him. Sensing defeat may be close, Simone took action.
"Hannah," she said aloud, drawing her friend's immediate attention. Gazing deeply into her eyes, Simone continued, "When you leave here your memory of our evening will begin to fade. You will not recall how you came to my home, in fact, such details will be stripped from your memory. You will only remember sharing an evening with me, Penny and Vlad, her new husband, talking about the good old Godolphin days. Do you understand my request?" But she silently added: Ignore my spoken words, you will remember everything we've discussed and take action. My father will be our messenger, should you need to contact me. Now repeat aloud, you understand.
"I understand," Hannah replied robotically.
Simone's use of mind control to diffuse the situation eased Alessio's worry. He'd been concerned Horatio's dinner companion might have been an OO agent and that his daughter-in-law was up to something she oughtn't be. Her continued genetic testing in defiance to the council's decree to stop had almost cost her her head already. And his son would never forgive him should anything happen to his wife during his absence.
Gabriel, however, was not so easily appeased. As Legatus of the Praetorian Guards, he had the power to hear Simone's silent vampyre commands.
Whatever could the lovely ladies be up to with all their cloak and dagger ways? he wondered. Looked like he'd be paying a visit to Hannah Woodville to find out.
How marvellous, he silently mused. He couldn't wait to play with the young beauty given she'd have to pretend she had no idea who, or what, he was. Quite the dilemma, wasn't it? He looked forward to putting her through her paces.
Chapter Six
"HANNAH, HAVE YOU HEARD a single word I’ve said?"
Absent-mindedly tracing her finger on the surface of her desk, Hannah stared off into space, oblivious to her assistant Lawrence's accusation.
"Earth to Hannah...come in, Hannah," he pressed.
Finally he got through. "I'm sorry, Lawrence," she replied. "What were you saying?"
Lawrence eyed her suspiciously. He'd been working for Hannah for the past two years and at times knew her better than herself. "Stop the presses," he exclaimed excitedly. "You had sex over the weekend!"
His statement was totally inappropriate for the workplace, not to mention an utter lack of decorum, but Lawrence didn't give two figs about that. If he had something to say, then by god he was going to say it.
"I did not," Hannah snapped back. "Why would you say such a thing?"
"Oh, don't be so sensitive," Lawrence returned, wagging an accusatory finger at her. "A man can hope, can'
t he? Besides, there is a distinct glow of happiness about you, so what else was I to think? OMG! You had sex with someone who was not Precious Pierce. Hallelujah!"
Lawrence did not hold her boyfriend in very high esteem. Too priggish, too Bostonian and definitely too frigid, if a man could be such a thing.
His hand-waving gospel salutation made her laugh. Lawrence was nothing, if not entertaining. Her friendship with him was the one redeeming quality Rebeka saw in her older sister. Time and again she would say: 'Lawrence keeps you real'. And he did. Her prim and proper ways drove him barmy and he was forever telling her to loosen up and live a little.
"Honest to god, Lawrence...stop. I swear to you, nothing happened. Now, behave. If your theatrics bring Thornton in here, you know I'll have to discipline you this time...which means two weeks of misery for both of us."
"Very well. But something's happened...you are...different."
Lawrence's uncanny ability to see who people were beyond the usual masks of superficiality always amazed her. But be that as is may, she couldn't very well confirm his observation.
Following her reunion with Simone and Penny Hannah was indeed different. She now lived in a world where the supernatural was real. She'd found the door hidden in the garden and had walked through. And there was no turning back now.
The desk phone started ringing, bringing a much needed distraction to the pair. Lifting the receiver to her ear, Hannah answered it. "Hello, Martha...a gentleman to see me? Did he give a name?...oh good lord, this cannot be...apologies, Martha, I was mumbling to myself. Please direct him to my office."
She put down the phone, her hand lingering on the receiver.
"You have a mysterious visitor? How...strange. When have you ever had a visitor - mysterious or otherwise?" Lawrence speculated.
Hannah didn't have time to waste answering his loaded questions. She needed to act. Gabriel Rosetti was on his way to her office. Her synapses were firing off in every which way as her scrambled thoughts darted off in numerous directions.
His presence at the museum was putting her into a right tizzy. Firstly, she wasn't suppose to remember their encounter at Simone's. And secondly, it was the middle of the day! A vampyre shouldn't be able to walk in the sunlight! What kind of creature was he?
But all that paled in comparison to the panic she felt over her appearance. Wearing a thin-strapped summer dress Lawrence had insisted she bought during their last ‘update Hannah’s wardrobe’ shopping spree, made her very aware of the amount of flesh she was showing.
The thought of Gabriel Rosetti's admiring gaze suddenly made her feel all warm and tingly. How was she going to pull off pretending not to know he was some sort of supernatural being when his sexy, come hither, admiration would turn her into a babbling idiot?
Scraping her hair into a severe bun-like style, she pulled on a totally unsuitable jacket, picked up her thick rimmed glasses from her desk, despite the fact she was wearing contacts, and perched them on her nose. There. Nerdy librarian Hannah no longer had anything to worry about from him.
Lawrence watched in horror as her transformation from smart, sexy professional to 'nice body but oh my, what the hell is she wearing' took place. Whoever this Gabriel Rosetti was, he'd better not threaten Lawrence's Pygmalion project. He'd spent too much time working on ditching Hannah's Granny look and was not about to have it wiped away so easily.
The soft rap on her office door prevented him from voicing his opinion. With a, we-will-discuss-this-later look, he went to admit Hannah's visitor.
Not sure what to expect, given his boss's reaction, Lawrence adopted his most officious persona. Well, he tried to anyway.
"Good morning," he rang out a tad too energetically as he opened the door, but soon fell silent once the mystery man that had sent Hannah back into her shell was in view.
Gabriel smiled at the young man, enjoying the way his eyes widened after having the opportunity to take in Gabe's appearance. The Saville Row suit, his custom-made Italian shoes - he looked like a fashion god in Lawrence's estimation. And Lawrence was very picky on his likes and dislikes about fashion.
"Good morning," Gabe returned, his tone rich and very sexy. "Is this Miss Woodville's office?"
"Miss Woodville's office..." Lawrence's voice trailed off. He seemed in somewhat of a daze. Hannah could relate.
"Hello, Mr...Rosetti, is it?" she called out, taking pity on her stunned assistant. They both needn't make fools of themselves in his presence. "Please, come in."
Gabriel entered the office carrying a black briefcase, which he placed on her desk as he looked around the room. It was quite an impressive space. High ceilinged with oak panelling, its large windows looked out onto a courtyard garden within the museum's older buildings. Sunlight filled the room, giving it a pleasant, airy sense of space.
"Miss Woodville, I wasn't certain if you were the same Miss Woodville I met the other night at...Claridges," Gabe said, mischievously delaying the location of their encounter and enjoying the relief he saw in Hannah's eyes at giving her a plausible excuse for knowing who he was without bringing up their meeting at Simone's. A fact she was not suppose to remember.
Lawrence threw her an accusatory look from his position at the door, ergo behind Gabe and unable to be seen. Hannah ignored him. "Yes, I am one and the same," she replied brightly, perhaps a bit too much so, for Lawrence flinched at her high pitch. "May I inquire as to why you've sought me out?"
A smile teased his lips at her very formal tone. She was even more appealing when flustered. "You may, but would it be an imposition if we discussed it over coffee?" Gabriel asked politely, hoping his bait would catch the fish he wanted.
Right on cue, Lawrence chirped in, giving Gabe an appreciative one-over again when the pair of them turned to acknowledge his existence. "I shall pop over to Fratrenelli's, they have the best coffee in Bloomsbury. And believe me, I know quality when I taste it."
Hannah gaped at her assistant's choice of words. His cheekiness really knew no bounds at times. "Yes, lovely. Thank you, Lawrence. What would you like Mr. Rosetti?"
"Coffee, black."
"Excellent, make it two please, Lawrence."
With her assistant out of the picture, Gabriel made his next move. He'd been fantasizing about the delectable Miss Woodville for days. Or rather he should refer to her by her proper title, Countess Mowbray. A bit of intel he'd found most intriguing. His past experiences with women of noble birth had been rather disappointing...most lost their innocence early. But Hannah was different, her nobility shone through like a beacon he could not resist.
"Your office is most pleasing," he remarked, turning to look at the woman who captured his interest like no other in a very long time.
A woman full of contradictions. She tried to hide her beauty by dressing not to impress and yet ended up looking more beautiful for it. Even now, her severe hair and thick glasses failed to diminish her elegant throat and large, expressive amber eyes framed by thick black lashes. Most women had to fake such dramatic features, but Hannah came by them naturally.
"Yes, it was once R.G. Collingwood's. I often imagine him in here, penning the research which ended up turning the archaeological world on its head. Most inspiring." Realising she sounded ridiculous, Hannah changed the topic. "Shall we begin our discussion on your reason for seeking me out?"
Gabe smirked. The slight panic in her voice as she desperately tried to figure out his reason for being here pleased him. The prim Miss Woodville needed to be kept on her toes. And the way her high cheekbones flushed with confusion was most attractive.
"Truthfully, I found our encounter hard to forget and was pleasantly surprised to learn not only were you a woman worth meeting again, but also an expert in a field I too have a particular interest in."
"You...you wanted to meet me again?" Her words stumbled awkwardly from her lips. Catching herself out, she hastened to add, "because we share a similar interest in...?"
"Western civilisation's evolution. I would
like your opinion about a piece from my personal collection. I am in London on other business, but my passion for antiquities is always with me."
I bet you do, seeing as you've been around for centuries, Hannah silently mused before gaily replying, "How could I refuse such an opportunity? Please, tell me more about the piece."
Gabriel unsnapped the briefcase he'd brought with him and spun it towards her. Lifting the lid, he said, "I thought it best to show you."
Nestled in the midst of an identically shaped cut-out in black foam was an intricately carved onyx cylinder.
Donning white gloves, Hannah tenderly lifted the cylinder from its protective surroundings. Holding it up in the bright sunlight, she inspected the object closely.
"The main carvings appear to be Etruscan in origin. But there are also elements of Assyrian...and well, how interesting...perhaps even an Oriental influence with certain patterns. Apologies, what in particular about the piece would you like me to look into for you?"
Gabe didn't know what to say. She had managed to tell him more about the cylinder in a few sentences than anyone had before. The piece had been in his family for centuries, millennia possibly, and he had no idea why it had been so cherished by his ancestors.
It wasn't that Gabe felt nothing towards the artefact. The mystery surrounding its origin and purpose was certainly one reason for his fascination. But he came from a land filled with mysterious evidence of past civilisations. Hell, Rome itself was once the heart of a great one. And yet, he'd spent over a century exploring the world's many ancient secrets but always returned back to this one piece. He'd never found any other to rival it's originality.
"I was wondering if you have encountered any similar pieces in the Museum's collection?" he asked eagerly. "I have yet to find evidence of any other objects like it."
Hannah returned the piece to its resting place. "I'd imagine not. Yours is the first example I have ever seen. Although..." She rounded her desk to pick up a thick glossy catalogue from Christie's Auction House. Flipping through its pages, she finally spotted what she'd been searching for. "Yes, here it is. It is not quite as elaborate, nor does it have the rich varied detail of your cylinder, but in my opinion there is a connection between the two pieces. Call it a professional hunch, I get them from time to time."
