Navarre. She closed her eyes, wondering what it would be like to let him make love to her…
A knock at the door roused her from the edge of sleep. Yawning, she went to the door. “Who is it?”
“Navarre.”
Her heart did a somersault at the sound of his voice. With hands that shook, she released the security chain and unlocked the door.
Taking a deep breath, she ran a hand through her hair, opened the door. And he was there, filling her vision, a tall dark man dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans.
“Navarre.” His name whispered past her lips.
His gaze moved over her. She’d been asleep, he thought. Her hair, slightly mussed, fell in glorious disarray over her shoulders. “May I come in?”
“I don’t know. It’s late…” She lifted her hand, then let it fall. “Sure, come on in.”
She stepped back so he could enter the house, then closed and locked the door behind him, only to stand there, uncertain of what to do next.
He solved the problem for her by taking her into his arms. It occurred to her that she should protest, that she should be insulted, annoyed, angry. Instead, she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes.
“I had to see you,” he murmured. “I tried to stay away. I told myself you were too young, too innocent, that I had no right to want you.” His hand stroked her hair, then slid down her cheek. “Tell me it’s all right for me to be here, Adrianna. Tell me you don’t want me to go.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
She felt a shudder pass through his body as his arms tightened around her.
“I need you, Annie,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“Navarre…”
“Shh, it’s all right. Just let me hold you a moment more, and then I’ll go.”
She didn’t understand the urgency in his voice, the sadness, the distant echo of loneliness. But he needed her. She could understand that, and she stood in his arms, content to be there, with her cheek pressed against his chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart.
Time lost all meaning. An hour might have passed. An eternity might have passed.
“I should go,” he said, his breath tickling her cheek. “It’s late.”
But still he didn’t release her. Her nearness was intoxicating, her warmth soothing. He had made it a point to feed before coming here and now, for these few precious moments, he could be near her without being afraid. It felt good to hold her as an ordinary man might hold a woman, to stroke the softness of her hair and skin, to press kisses along the slender curve of her throat without fearing that the blood hunger would overcome him.
Gently, he tipped her face to his and kissed her. And she melted in his arms, her body leaning into his, her breasts warm and soft against his chest. Her arms slid up around his neck, and she drew him closer, moaning softly as his tongue slid over her bottom lip.
“Navarre…”
“I know,” he murmured. “I feel it, too.”
He kissed her once more, and then, with regret, he let her go.
She gazed up at him, her expression slightly dazed, her lips parted. She was so beautiful, he thought, so innocent. He had no right to interfere in her life. And yet, even knowing it was wrong, he couldn’t stay away.
“I’d better go before this gets out of hand.”
Adrianna nodded. She didn’t want him to leave, not yet, but he was right. Another minute in his arms and she would be inviting him to her bed. And she wasn’t ready for that, not yet.
He kissed her once more, and then he was gone.
There were no bad dreams that night.
Chapter Six
In the morning, she woke with a smile on her face, a sense of well-being flooding her soul.
“Navarre,” she murmured. “Navarre. Navarre!”
She giggled out loud as she bounded out of bed, eager to face the new day. Never in all her life had she felt like this. No schoolgirl crush had ever had her dancing around her room, laughing for no reason at all while she got dressed.
She was too excited to eat, so she settled for a quick cup of coffee, brushed her teeth, and went to work two hours early to stock the shelves.
She sang in the car, she sang while she opened cartons and placed the new romance novels on display on the rack in the front of the store. There was a definite trend toward paranormal romances these days, she mused as she read the titles. Ordinary heroes had been replaced by ghosts and werewolves, aliens and vampires.
Vampires.
Navarre had cast no reflection in her mirror.
With a shake of her head, she put the thought from her.
A moment later, she was driving toward Cliff House.
She sat in the car, her fingers curled over the steering wheel, staring at the old house. The place was spooky, even in the light of day.
Resolutely, she stepped out of the car, telling herself there was nothing to be afraid of. She didn’t believe in vampires. And even if such loathsome creatures did exist, everyone knew they slept in their coffins during the day, so there was nothing to fear.
Clutching her car keys, she climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.
Her heart jumped into her throat when the door opened and Navarre stood there, looking dark and dangerous in a pair of tight black jeans and a black sweatshirt.
“Adrianna!” Navarre exclaimed, and then he smiled. “What are you doing here?”
She stared up at him, wondering what she could say.
Navarre frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No. No, I…I just wanted to see you.”
“Come in.”
She hesitated, her gaze darting past him, sweeping over the interior of the house.
“Adrianna?”
She murmured a quick thank you and stepped inside, wondering if she had just made what could be a fatal mistake. But that was silly. There was no such thing as vampires. She was simply letting her imagination get the best of her. That’s what comes of reading too many paranormal romances, she mused. You start to see monsters in the closet and under the bed.
She shivered as his arms slid around her. Were his hands unusually cold, or was it just that her skin was suddenly so warm?
“I’m glad you came,” Navarre said, his lips brushing the top of her head. “Would you care for a cup of coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Relief seeped through her. Everyone knew that vampires couldn’t consume normal food. “It’s instant,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind?”
“No, that’s fine.”
She followed him down the hallway into the kitchen. Glancing into each room they passed, she noticed that all the drapes were drawn against the morning sun.
She sat at the table while he filled a teapot with water and set it on the stove to heat.
“It’s dark in here,” she remarked. “Why don’t you open the curtains?”
“Bad for the furniture.” Navarre shrugged. “I can’t afford to have the fabric on some of those old pieces fade any more than they already have.”
Adrianna grunted softly. Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of that herself? Her grandmother had always kept her house dark, claiming the sunlight faded the carpets.
She felt a flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach as she watched him move around the kitchen, taking a delicate china cup from the shelf, adding a spoonful of instant coffee, filling the cup with water.
“Do you take cream or sugar?” he asked.
“Both, please.”
It was only when he placed the cup before her that she realized he wasn’t having any.
“I don’t care for coffee,” he said in answer to her unspoken question. “I only keep it on hand for company.”
“Oh.”
“Are you taking the day off?”
“No.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll have to go soon. The store opens at ten.”
His gaze moved over her face in a soft caress. “Would you care to
go for a walk along the beach?”
His question put the last of her doubts to mind. “That sounds wonderful.”
He smiled as he slipped on a pair of dark glasses, then took her hand in his. “Ready?”
The next hour was magical. Adrianna kicked off her shoes and they walked hand in hand along the beach, watching the early morning sun dance on the water, listening to the quiet whisper of the waves against the shore, watching the gulls wheel and soar against the cloudless sky.
Later, sitting in the shade of the cliff, she told him how she’d bought the bookstore, and how one of these days she was going to have to sit down and go through all the old boxes that she had found in bookstore’s attic.
“The previous owner was an old gypsy woman. I don’t think she ever threw anything away.” Adrianna laughed softly. “My great-grandmother didn’t either. I inherited a huge old trunk when Nana passed away. I started to go through it a couple of times, but it made me sad, somehow, going through her things, so I just locked it up and put it away.”
“The loss of a loved one is never easy,” Navarre remarked, “but time is a great healer.”
“You sound as though you’re speaking from experience.”
“Yes.”
He glanced out at the ocean, and Adrianna knew intuitively that he was thinking of another woman in another place.
“Would you care to talk about it?” she asked.
His gaze moved back to her face, and he shook his head. “No. It was a long time ago.”
“I’ve been doing all the talking,” Adrianna said, forcing a note of cheerfulness into her voice. “Tell me about you. Where did you live before you came to Moreno Bay?”
“Many places.”
“Really? Like where? I’ve never lived anywhere but here.”
Navarre blew out a deep breath. “Europe, mostly.”
“Have you been to Paris? And Italy? Oh, I’d love to go to Italy. Is it wonderful?”
“I suppose so.”
“You suppose so! Tell me, what’s Europe like? Did you see the Eiffel Tower and the Tower of London? Did you go to Venice?”
Navarre nodded.
Adrianna sighed. “I guess I’ll never get there.”
“Anything is possible,” Navarre remarked. He glanced up at the sun, still amazed and inordinately pleased that he could endure the weak winter sunlight for short periods of time. He could feel the heat penetrating the heavy sweatshirt and pants he wore, making his skin tingle. Soon, he would have to go inside, but not yet. He wanted to spend a few more minutes sitting on the beach with Adrianna, pretending he was no different than any other man she knew.
“Do you have family here?” she asked.
“No. Do you?”
Adrianna nodded. “Well, not really here. My dad’s company transferred him to California during my senior year.”
“Why didn’t you go with them?”
“I wanted to graduate with my friends. My great-grandma said I could stay with her, and my mom thought it was a good idea, since Nana was so old. It’s her house I’m living in. She left it to me in her will, along with enough money to buy the bookstore.”
“Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve got two brothers. Todd is fifteen, and Troy is sixteen. They came to stay with me last summer. At least they said it was to see me. I suspect they just wanted to check out the girls in town and see if they’d missed anything while they were gone. I suppose next year I’ll go there.”
“Of course,” he said quietly, though he disliked the thought of her leaving town, even for a day. “Family is important. You should stay close to them.”
She looked at Navarre, wondering if she was imagining the longing, the loneliness, she saw in his eyes.
Navarre glanced up at the sun again, his eyes narrowing against the brightness that burned his eyes in spite of the dark glasses.
Rising to his feet, he pulled Adrianna up beside him. “As much as I’ve enjoyed this, I have to go.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.” She pulled her hand from his. “I really should be getting to work.”
“Annie, don’t.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her cheek. Her skin was as smooth and warm as a sun-kissed peach. “I’d rather be here, with you, than anywhere else.”
“Navarre…”
“I wish I didn’t have to go.” With a low groan, he kissed her, ignoring the heat of the sun that burned through his clothing and seared his flesh.
Breathless, Adrianna gazed up at him. “I don’t have to go to work,” she murmured.
“But I do.” He kissed her again, deeply, passionately. “Annie, I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ll see you tonight,” he said and then, after one last kiss, he ran down the beach to the path that led up to Cliff House.
Adrianna frowned as she watched Navarre run effortlessly up the steep slope until he was out of sight. He was in a hurry, all right, there was no doubt of that.
Picking up her shoes, she made her way up the path, hoping, as she did so, that Navarre had left the door open so she could get her keys, which she’d left on the kitchen table.
The door was unlocked, the house quiet, when she stepped into the kitchen. “Navarre?”
She picked up her keys, then walked through the rooms downstairs. There was something about Cliff House that made her walk softly, that made her feel that she wasn’t alone even though it seemed apparent that the house was empty. And yet, strange as it seemed, she couldn’t help feeling that Navarre was nearby. She felt his presence all around her.
She glanced up the stairway, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, she climbed the stairs to the second floor, wandering slowly from room to room. Where had he gone in such a hurry? A narrow set of stairs led to what she assumed was the attic. A narrow chain stretched from one side of the banister to the other. A neatly lettered wooden sign, with the words PRIVATE, KEEP OUT, hung from the center of the chain.
Adrianna’s felt her pulse quicken as she stepped over the chain. On tiptoe, she climbed the stairs which led to a solid oak door.
She stood there for several moments, her hand hovering over the doorknob, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and then, overcome by a sudden irrational fear, she turned and ran down the stairs and out of the house.
* * * * *
Lying in his bed, hovering in the shadow world between awareness and oblivion, Navarre listened to Adrianna’s footsteps as she moved from room to room, as she climbed the stairs to the attic. He could hear the frantic beating of her heart as she stood outside the door, then the quick tattoo of her footsteps as she ran out of the house, suddenly afraid without knowing why.
But he knew why. A primal instinct buried deep in her subconscious had recognized the danger that lurked beyond the door.
He took a deep breath when he heard her drive away. He grimaced against the pain that stalked his body, caused by his exposure to the sun. But the pain was of no consequence when compared to the pleasure of walking along the beach with Adrianna, of seeing her face in the full light of day, of watching the sunlight dance in the wealth of her hair.
Closing his eyes, he waited for the darkness to descend, waited for the blackness that would carry him into oblivion; the blessed darkness that would heal him while his body took its unholy rest; the cursed darkness that kept him from sharing the daylight hours with the woman he loved.
He groaned softly, the pain in his heart rivaling the pain in his flesh. He had no right to love her, no right to let her love him.
And as the blackness washed over him, he knew he would have to let her go.
Chapter Seven
“Not tonight, Marty,” Adrianna said. “I really don’t feel like going out.”
“Come on, babe,” he coaxed. “It’s Friday. A movie and a show is just what you need.”
“I don’t think so.” She gazed out the front window of the bookstore, watching the rain come down. “I just want to go home and curl
up with a good book.”
“You’re sure?”
“Afraid so.”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line, and then a sigh.
“Listen, Annie, tell me the truth. Am I wasting my time? If I am, just say the word and I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Do we have to talk about this now?”
“Yeah. Just tell me the truth, Annie. I’m a grown man. I can take it.”
“We’re friends, Marty. We’ve been friends for a long time, and I’m afraid that’s all we’ll ever be.”
“Sure you won’t reconsider? I’m a heck of a catch.”
“I know. I’m sorry, really, but…”
“Hey, don’t sweat it.” He laughed, a hollow, forced sound. “We can still be friends, and if you ever change your mind, well, like they say, I’ll be around.”
“Thanks, Marty. Goodbye.”
“So long.”
Adrianna hung up the receiver, then sat back in her chair and stared out at the rain again. It was the first big storm of the year, and she loved it. She loved the thunder, the rain, the lightning that lit up the sky.
Another couple of hours and she could close up shop, go home and take a hot bath. Later, she’d curl up on the sofa with a pepperoni pizza and a good book.
The idea wasn’t as appealing as she’d made it sound. What she really wanted was to see Navarre. She had spent every minute of the last four days waiting for him to call, yearning to see him again.
Why hadn’t he called? She closed her eyes, reliving the hour they had spent on the beach. Had she read more into his words, his kiss, than he’d intended? She remembered the night he had come to her house, remembered the sound of his voice when he’d told her he needed her. Had it all been a lie? If so, what had he hoped to gain?
She slammed her palm against the desk top. It made a satisfying smack. If only she had Nancy’s confidence! A dozen times in the last four days, she had reached for the phone, only to hang up. She couldn’t call him. She had chased him too many times already. This time, it was up to him.
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