Jerome reached for his cell phone. He held it in his hand for a moment, deliberated making the call, but changed his mind and shoved it back into its case. Michael was probably still awake. The bar had closed only a couple of hours earlier. But hell, let him stew a while longer.
He switched on the television and settled in his easy chair for a few hours of the tube before turning in for the day. At least Michael’s and Gordon’s intrusions had taken his mind off the woman in the bedroom above him.
But for how long could he count on that? Just the thought of her already had his heart pumping twice its normal rate.
He rubbed his knuckles across his lips. The feel and taste of her remained. Why had he weakened and kissed her? What would he say to her tonight when he sought her out?
His heart beat harder and faster. He feared he had taken a fateful step that could never be revoked.
THE NEXT MORNING Dottie took her coffee outside to the back deck. The air was cool, mid-fifties according to the morning news. Rain was expected later in the day, but it wasn’t evident yet. She set her mug down on the white, knee-high wicker table in front of her and pulled her cotton sweater closer to her body.
Shielding her eyes with her hand, she looked to the east where the sun rose as she watched. Slowly, she scanned the breathtaking horizon. The sound of footsteps behind her broke her concentration. She turned to find a man approaching. She recognized him as Jerome’s business manager, whom Ella had pointed out a couple of days before. He stopped a few feet in front of the wicker table.
Taller and broader than Jerome, the man’s stature was formidable. His large frame blocked the early morning sunlight. He looked down at Dottie. “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Although being a southern girl, I’d much prefer it to be a few degrees warmer.” She reached for her coffee mug and wrapped her fingers around it. Already the once steaming liquid had cooled enough that the mug was no longer hot to the touch.
The man looked uncomfortable standing there, but she figured he would be more uncomfortable if he tried to squeeze his bulk into the other wicker chair. She set her mug down, rose, and extended her hand to him.
He took it in a firm grip. “I’m Gordon Strycker, Jerome’s business manager.”
“And I’m Dottie Crawford, Jerome’s houseguest, as you probably already know.”
Gordon gestured to the chair she had just vacated. “Please,” he said, “go back to your coffee. I’ve had mine already.”
Dottie took her seat but left the coffee untouched. While she searched for something to say, Gordon said, “Jerome told me you like the outdoors. I don’t have anything pressing this morning. I’d be happy to accompany you on a walk, if that’s your plan for today.”
So the truth was out. Gordon was here to spy on her, to make sure she didn’t disobey Jerome’s orders again and leave the house alone. Her cheeks grew warm from embarrassment. She might have lashed out at Gordon if she hadn’t believed he was Jerome’s pawn. Feeling a sense of camaraderie with him, she responded civilly. “That’s very kind of you, but quite frankly, I haven’t made any plans yet for today.”
Gordon nodded his understanding. “Should you change your mind I’ll be working in Jerome’s office until noon.”
She relaxed a little. “How long have you worked for Jerome?”
He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks. “That depends on what you mean by work.”
She was getting a strange feeling about Gordon. There was something odd about him, something different. Something she couldn’t quite define. “Have you known Jerome long?”
Gordon walked over to the empty chair and perched himself on its edge, his forearms resting on his thighs. “I’ve been with Jerome since he turned eighteen.”
Dottie furrowed her brows. He had been with Jerome since he was eighteen? Jerome was a vampire. That meant Gordon was . . . She realized she didn’t know exactly how old Jerome was so she couldn’t make a calculated guess. She only knew that as a vampire, Jerome was not the thirty-something he, or Gordon, appeared to be. She began to get a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Gordon leaned forward. “I don’t think Jerome will mind your knowing that he’s close to a century and a quarter old. That means I’ve been with him well over a hundred years. I am to Jerome what Michael is to Julian.”
If Gordon was to Jerome what Michael was to Julian, then that meant . . . “You’re a shape shifter?”
“Yes. A shape shifter. Or a Changer. Whichever you prefer.”
It was Dottie’s turn to be uncomfortable sitting. She bounced off the chair and walked over to the edge of the deck. Down the hill on which the house sat, she could see cars streaming in both directions, the early morning sunlight glinting off their steel rooftops.
She suddenly felt unsteady. Her gaze shifted from the view below to the new piece of jewelry at her wrist. She had managed to successfully ignore it since awakening. Just as she had ignored Jerome’s kiss last night. Pushing the kiss and the bracelet, as well as the unpleasant conversation she’d had with Jerome, to the back of her mind had been easier than examining them.
It was as if her mind had a door she could open and close at will, accepting what she chose, rejecting the rest, much like the mental connection between her and Jerome that she was quickly learning to control.
While she’d been trapped in her musings, Gordon had risen and come to stand next to her. “My confession shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise considering what you’ve been through and what you’ve probably learned from your stepsister.”
The light breeze had picked up somewhat in the few minutes she’d been standing there. It was typical San Francisco weather she’d been told. She wondered what the weather was like in Mobile and what Casey would wear when Angela took her to lunch and a Disney movie this afternoon. A strong pang of homesickness brought tears to her eyes. She fought them back and turned her attention once again to the man beside her.
“Simone told me a few things—what she thought I should know, I suppose. I know a little about The Legacy, that the three brothers were chosen to regain their humanity so they could more effectively fight the evil vampires.”
“Have you considered talking to Jerome about some of those things?”
Puzzled, she looked up at Gordon. “Why should I? Beyond what happened to me in New Orleans, which the doctor I’ve seen here thinks will eventually fade from my memory, none of this affects me. I’m here to get well, and as soon as I’m fully recovered I’ll be leaving.”
“Do you have any idea when that might be?”
“Not exactly. But my narcolepsy attacks seem to be taking the course Jerome’s doctor predicted. If I continue improving, as I have the past two days, I expect I won’t be here too much longer.”
Gordon propped a hip against the deck railing. “That’s good news. I hope you keep improving. Still, I’m leaving my offer as a walking companion on the table for as long as you’re here.”
“Thanks, I’ll remember that.”
Gordon checked his watch and pushed away from the railing. “As I said, I’ll be in Jerome’s office until lunchtime. If you change your mind about that walk give me a yell.”
Dottie watched Gordon until he disappeared into the back entrance of the house before she turned back to the spectacular view of the rainbow-colored horizon and the lush mountains in the distance. Unwanted thoughts niggled the back of her mind. Her fingers gripped the railing and her gaze fell to her left wrist.
She could no longer pretend the bracelet didn’t exist. Or that it didn’t have major significance. Once she did that, the replay of Jerome’s dictatorial orders were impossible to ignore.
Oh, she knew she didn’t have to heed his warnings. She could, right at this moment, ignore Jerome and Gordon and do as she pleased. She could go b
ack inside, put on her jogging shoes and take off on her own, as she had yesterday.
She passed her fingertips over the bracelet, examining it closely for the first time since Jerome had slipped it on her wrist. It was a beautiful creation, made of tiny pearls and turquoise stones. For the first time in all the hours she had worn it, she noticed a design in the bracelet’s center. She lifted her arm and looked closely at the distinctive motif. The shape was that of a tiny dagger. The same shape that was in the center of Simone’s necklace.
A strange sensation came over her. What did it mean? Were these two pieces of jewelry somehow related? Made from the same stones, crafted by the same hands at the same time? She shivered, not from the breeze, but from an implication she didn’t want to consider. If the necklace and the bracelet were connected to each other, part of the family jewels perhaps, why would Jerome entrust it to her? She was a stranger to him.
She made a decision. She would insist Jerome take the bracelet back the next time she saw him. And she would go for a walk if and when she chose. Alone. She was trained to defend herself against an attacker, if that was his concern. As to deliberately ignoring his wishes, his orders, he would just have to get over it.
Almost as fast as she’d considered the rash action, she berated herself for being stupid and childish. Her health was improving every day. She felt as strong at that moment as she had the day she left Mobile to go to New Orleans. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be home.
A peculiar, unexpected ache began in the center of her chest and spread throughout her body. Once she left San Francisco she would never see Jerome again. She pulled in her breath , surprised to realize she would miss not seeing him every evening. When did that become important to her?
She passed her fingertips lightly over the bracelet, then brought them up to her lips, remembering Jerome’s kiss. She didn’t want to remember how it had felt when his mouth had covered hers. There was a danger in remembering.
But her mind refused to listen to her internal warning, and flashes of hot and cold snaked up her spine, traveled up to her scalp, then down to her toes. She had thoroughly enjoyed Jerome’s kiss of the night before. She gasped. She was physically attracted to Jerome!
Her pulse began to race. She could not let even the hint of a relationship begin between herself and Jerome Whitcombe—between herself and a vampire.
She started back to the chair, but stopped before she reached it. She was too edgy to sit. She began to pace. She needed to do some deep thinking. And she needed to be away from here to do it. She looked wildly around for a means of escape. Spying the gate on the side of the deck she ran toward it, threw it open and took off down the side path to the street.
Chapter Ten
DOTTIE PRESSED closer to the partially open door to Jerome’s office. Gordon was on the telephone. “Well, what do you suggest I do, Michael? Tie him up? No, I told you I don’t know if he was with a woman. I suspect he was, but I don’t know for sure.”
It hadn’t been her intention to eavesdrop on Gordon’s conversation. After hastily leaving the house, she had thought better of the rash act and decided to return and take Gordon up on his offer to walk with her. Before she’d had time to knock on the door, Gordon’s voice had carried into the hall.
She stood riveted to the spot, unable to move after hearing Gordon’s reference to Jerome seeing a woman. Gordon began speaking again. “Yes, he said he got your message.” A short pause. “No, he didn’t say anything more.”
Dottie dueled with her conscience. She knew she should leave. It wasn’t simply that listening to someone else’s conversation was rude, in this particular instance it was also none of her business. Jerome was nothing to her but a kind and generous host to whom she would soon be saying good-bye.
If he went out at night to seek the company of women, so be it. She supposed there were many females, vampires or not, who welcomed his lowered fangs with open arms. She shook her head to shake the image free, but to no avail. She leaned even closer to the door. She really should leave, but she couldn’t make herself move.
“Well, what do you propose I do?”
Gordon’s voice had been steadily rising during his conversation. Although she knew nothing of his usual temperament it wasn’t difficult to gauge his level of frustration. At the moment it was high.
“Yes, according to Gene Malbury the tremors are increasing, and every time they do there’s a shift in the magnetic field. I know it’s affecting him. He tries his damnedest to hide it from me, but I can tell when he’s off balance.”
Dottie heard a steady, rhythmic click, click, click. Gordon was nervously tapping something sharp against the desk top.
“I don’t see enough of him to be able to tell you that with any accuracy. We do most of our communication by e-mail or phone.” Gordon said.
Another pause. The clicking stopped and an occasional squeak from the desk chair took its place. Finally, Gordon spoke again. “Well, I do have a life, you know. And I have to sleep occasionally. Are you suggesting I baby sit him from dusk ‘til dawn? I’d like to see how that goes over. You know, Jerome doesn’t . . . Okay, I’ll talk to Ambrose, maybe he can shed some light on—”
Gordon stopped speaking mid-sentence. Dottie figured Michael was determined to get his point across. Now, Gordon was clearly irritated. “And there’s absolutely no way it can be done here?”
Dottie turned away from the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She had better get away from here before someone saw her. She knew for certain Dennis and Ella were up and about.
As she hurried down the hall, she considered what she’d overheard. Something was going on, and whatever it was, it didn’t sound good. This thing with the magnetic field that Gordon mentioned was obviously affecting Jerome. Could that have had anything to do with the dizzy spell he’d had the other night—the one he’d denied?
Should she tell Gordon about it? Oh sure, tell him she had just listened to his private conversation with Michael and she had something to add to the discussion. That would go over like a lead balloon.
If she did speak to Gordon he would no doubt mention it to Jerome, who would in turn confront her. And then what?
So, what should she do now? Continue with her solitary walk or go back out to the deck? She decided on neither, opting for the safety of her room. Once inside, she considered calling Simone. Maybe during their conversation she could find a way to wheedle some information from her stepsister that would give her an opening to mention the overheard conversation. She reached for her cell phone, but pulled her hand back almost immediately. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even Simone, until she had things sorted out in her mind.
She spied the CD of Casey and Angela on top the television and impulsively decided to view it again. When the video began, she felt a sharp pain like a knife being driven into her chest, and it almost made her double over. At the moment, Casey and Angela—Mobile and home—seemed farther away than ever.
As much as she wanted to go home, she knew she could never leave here until her feelings for Jerome were sorted out. She was either attracted to him, or she wasn’t. Things were moving fast now. It shouldn’t be too long before she had her answer.
JEROME USUALLY awoke from his death sleep ready to meet the night head-on. Not so tonight. He was more agitated than when he’d closed his eyes a dozen hours earlier.
He had dreamed through most of those hours, and even though his heart had been stilled by the death sleep’s grip, the excitement brought on by dreams of Thea had pierced that stillness. He dressed hurriedly, a sense of urgency propelling him forward. He remembered his cell phone at the last moment and hurriedly clipped the phone case to his belt.
He climbed the stairs to the upper floor one deliberate step at a time. The few extra seconds gave him precious moments to prepare for the meeting he both anticipated and dreaded.
>
Thea was in the living room reading, exactly as he expected her to be. He didn’t acknowledge her presence as he usually did, but went directly to the bar. His hands shook as he fixed a double shot of Michael’s miracle drink. He emptied the glass in two giant swallows. Then he spun around. “That kiss last night should not have happened.”
She didn’t say anything, just looked at him as if he’d told her the world was about to end. He ran his hand roughly through his hair. “I stopped in to tell you that before I got on with my work. I didn’t want you to read anything into it. It won’t happen again.”
Thea closed the book and laid it on the table next to her chair.
“Well?” he prompted, when she still didn’t speak.
She shrugged. “What do you want me to say? I didn’t initiate the kiss.”
“I want you to—” His cell phone vibrated. With a muffled oath, he retrieved it and flipped it open. Gordon’s number displayed on the screen. “Yes?” He didn’t care that his annoyance was reflected in his voice. Lately, it seemed as if Gordon only called with unpleasant news. If Michael was on Gordon’s ass already . . .
But Gordon had another matter with which to torment him. “I’m not absolutely certain, but I think your houseguest overheard a conversation I had with Michael this afternoon.”
Jerome’s fingers tightened around the phone. He lowered his voice a notch. “Oh? Tell me more.”
“Midway through our conversation I sensed someone outside the door. I thought at first it was Ella performing some household chores.”
“But you found out otherwise?”
The Vampire Jerome Page 10
