“You sound strange, Jerome. Is someone with you?”
Jerome turned his back to Thea. “That’s right. But I have a few minutes, so go ahead with the rest of what you have in mind.”
Jerome listened attentively as Gordon explained that as soon as the call had ended he walked over to the door, which he discovered he had not closed completely. No one was in the hallway, but he immediately picked up the scent of Jerome’s houseguest.
Jerome did a quarter turn and caught sight of Thea out of the corner of his eye. Her gaze was trained on him. He went back to the conversation with Gordon, keeping an eye on her. “I’ll take care of it, and yes, I’ll contact you later.”
He deliberately took extra time reattaching his cell phone to the leather case at his waist. He turned to face the woman who still had him in her sights, taking a deep breath before he addressed her. “Tell me, Miss Crawford, did you find out anything of interest by way of my manager’s phone call today?”
Thea’s eyes widened. She seemed to consider what he’d just said before she rose from the chair. Once on her feet, she looked about ready to take a step in his direction but apparently changed her mind.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, did you perhaps hear something that surprised or maybe even shocked you?”
Jerome felt a perverse satisfaction as he watched her expression change from surprise to embarrassment. She snatched her book from the table and brought it up to her chest like a shield.
He took a step toward her and her hands gripped the book until her knuckles rose. “I would think,” he continued, “that if you heard something that puzzled you, you would want some answers.”
To her credit, Thea stood her ground. “I didn’t intend to eavesdrop on your manager’s conversation. The door was open and before I could knock—”
“Why don’t you sit back down and we can talk,” he said, before she could continue her explanation.
She was too close. He needed to widen the distance between them. He had hoped his death sleep would quiet the unsettling emotions he’d felt for Thea last night, but it hadn’t. He still wanted her.
He fought furiously to keep The Need in check as his lust rose to a dangerous level. He wanted Thea’s body, as well as her blood, with a desperate yearning he had not felt for any woman since becoming a vampire.
DOTTIE CLUTCHED the book to her chest. She was bone-deep furious. Not only had Jerome maneuvered her into an embarrassing admission about the overheard conversation, but he’d had the audacity to imply she shared responsibility for last night’s kiss.
Sure, she’d responded to his advance. She felt no shame in admitting he had turned her on. She was, after all, a normal flesh and blood woman capable of experiencing all the desires available to her gender. She had always enjoyed being a female, and never more than now when she felt her strength returning to what it used to be.
Her last serious relationship had ended more than six months ago. Until last night, she hadn’t had sex, or even a passionate kiss, in such a long time that she’d felt like a teenager when Jerome had taken her in his arms.
Mercifully, through all the horrors she’d experienced, her body had not been violated, so there was no sense of fear or revulsion at the thought of being intimate with a man again. Not that she had consciously hoped Jerome’s kiss would lead to something more. She hadn’t. She had just enjoyed the moment, brief as it was, and she would not allow Jerome Whitcombe to make her feel cheap for enjoying his kiss.
Deciding she could darn well let him know what she thought of his tactics, she said, “You are an insufferable, manipulative, egotistical man. I never should have come here.”
Before Jerome could respond, Dottie rushed from the room. Between the book crushed to her chest and the energy expended in her outburst, she was panting and gasping for air when she reached her room.
She locked the door behind her. She did not want Jerome looking in on her, as he’d promised his brother he would when Julian brought her here.
He would not get to honor that promise tonight. She did not want Jerome Whitcombe anywhere near her. She likely would not need him, or anyone else, anymore. She was just about strong enough to go home.
Almost as soon as the thought ended, the old, familiar heaviness draped itself over her like a blanket of fog. She sighed heavily. Please, not tonight. Not after she had just convinced herself she was almost cured. She glanced at the clock. It was only ten minutes after eight. She sighed again, more deeply this time.
She fought the drugged feeling for as long as she could, but in the end, she lost the battle. She removed her shirt, turned back the bed covers and laid her head on the plump, white pillow. She fell instantly asleep.
DOTTIE DID NOT want to wake up. She was dreaming of Jerome. Not the Jerome with the blazing eyes and the harsh, accusing voice, but a tender, yet fiercely passionate, Jerome. As the last vestige of sleep fell away, she felt the presence of another person in the room. But that couldn’t be. She had locked the door behind her.
Slowly she opened her eyes to a dark shadow across the room. She panicked. In the silence, her frantic heartbeat drummed loud in her ears. She checked the clock. Nine fifteen. She had been asleep for little more than an hour. She refocused her eyes once more to the back of the room.
The outline took the form of a man. She somehow found the ability to ask, in a croaky voice, “Who’s there”?
The figure moved closer and the shape became clearer. A face emerged, backlit by a thin shaft of light from the hallway that spilled in from the partially open door. It was Jerome. For a couple of seconds, she couldn’t breathe. She took a deep gulp of air, scooted up against the headboard and pulled the covers under her chin. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
Jerome moved to the end of the bed. She tightened her hold on the covers.
“I came in through the door,” Jerome answered.
“But I locked the door.”
“Locks are meaningless to me, if I want entrance to a room.”
She pulled the covers higher. “Get out. I don’t want you in here. I want to be alone.”
“I left you alone for an hour, but now I’m here. It’s my job to check on you at night.”
“Well, as of this minute, you are released from your job. I don’t need you.”
“But I need you.”
She froze. She absolutely could not move. Or speak. Thump. Thump. Thump. Any minute her heart was bound to burst through her chest.
She lifted herself a few inches on her elbow and tilted her head so she could see him better. He looked intense. But not angry. “I want to know how you got in. The door was locked.”
“I told you, I came in through the door.” He smiled, held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “There is magic in these hands.” The smiled faded. “There could be magic between us, too.”
She couldn’t breathe or speak. But it wasn’t from fear. Heightened anticipation, excitement and sexual desire were the emotions that overwhelmed her now. She was responding both physically and emotionally to Jerome. To a vampire.
And why was she surprised? Hadn’t she enjoyed his kiss last night? The now infamous kiss for which he had tried to make her feel partly responsible? Perhaps she had been somewhat responsible; not for initiating the kiss, but for the encouragement she gave him by wrapping her arms around his neck and savoring his tongue in her mouth.
Just thinking about that kiss and how it had made her feel sent chills through her. Heat was building inside her and the pulse low in her belly had begun to throb. Too nervous to stay in one place, she was about to throw the covers back and jump out of the bed when she remembered she was down to her bra and panties.
She groped frantically around the bed for the shirt she had discarded. She couldn’t find it. She was exasperated beyond bel
ief. “I need you out of here.”
“And I need to stay.” He sounded as determined to stay as she was for him to leave.
She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, buying time to calm herself and figure out what to do next.
Jerome moved a step closer. “I apologize for what I said back there.” He cocked his head toward the front of the house.
“You can apologize after I’m dressed.” She paused and waited for his response, but he said nothing. Nor did he make an attempt to leave. “I can’t get dressed with you standing there.” What was it going to take for him to do as she asked?
“I’ll turn away.” Before she could protest, he turned to face the door.
She groaned her frustration, but decided she should take advantage of even this limited privacy. She got to her knees, crawled to the middle of the bed, found the shirt and slipped it on.
“Were you in one of your deep sleeps?” Jerome asked.
She had just stepped out of bed and was fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. “Yes, but it didn’t last very long.” For that she was grateful. Even though she had slipped into one of the deep sleeps after she thought they were over, the brevity of it still gave her hope that they were nearing an end.
Jerome turned to face her. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m not finished dressing,” she snapped.
“I’m not interested in whether or not you’re dressed. I’m interested in your health.” His tone was as sharp as hers.
She looked up at Jerome. Their gazes locked. Her heart was still beating fast and Jerome’s effect on her was still powerful. “My health is fine.”
Jerome closed the distance between them and grasped her shoulders. “Are you sure?”
When he was this close she was not sure of anything. She made a feeble attempt to break away, but when he didn’t let her go, she stopped trying to free herself. Her shoulders gradually eased down and she waited breathlessly for his next move.
Would he try to kiss her again? Would she let him?
Thea was so beautiful Jerome could easily imagine there had always been a man in her life. The thought disturbed him as he lowered his hands from her shoulders to her waist. His mind sought hers.
You are a beautiful woman, Thea. I want so badly to take you in my arms and kiss you again.
She didn’t answer him. Not because she hadn’t heard him—he knew she had because he could tell when the link between them opened—but because he had taken her by surprise.
Just as he’d surprised himself by coming to her room. He had tried to stay away from her because The Need was steadily building inside him. But he was genuinely worried about her. He wanted to see for himself that she was okay.
Once he’d entered her room, he’d known it was intuition that had brought him here. He could tell by her breathing that her sleep was not normal. He had made up his mind to stay with her until she awoke, or at least until dawn, when Ella would spell him. He would fight The Need with all the powers at his command so as not to approach her. Fortunately, he had not been tested because she had awakened only minutes after he entered the room.
Thea? He needed her attention.
Yes?
I think you know there’s something between us.
There can’t be anything between us.
So you deny it, even though I can feel your desire for me?
He slipped open the only button on her shirt she had managed to partially close. She sucked in her breath when his hands cupped her lace covered breasts, but she didn’t ask him to stop. Encouraged, he passed the pad of his thumbs over her hardened nipples.
Do you still deny it?
You’ve done something to me.
I have done nothing to you that you did not voluntarily allow. Nor will I ever.
He increased the pressure and the tempo of his thumbs across the stiffening peaks. His control slipped to a dangerous low. His gums began to throb and burn, and his incisors began to descend. His control was waning fast. He had always been certain that, if he chose to do so, he could take a woman’s body without also tasting her blood. But he feared that not even Thea, who he thought more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen in his long, vampiric life, could satisfy his cravings if he did not taste her blood.
Thea began to tremble violently in his arms. He cursed aloud. He had not closed the link between them. Now she knew of his duel with madness.
While he struggled with his thoughts, Thea broke away from his hold and began to pummel his chest with her fists. She was good at that. She had more strength than he’d suspected.
“I do not desire you. I do not. I do not.”
“Thea.” He reached for her, but she backed away.
“I am not Thea. I am Dottie.”
“You are Thea to me.”
Although he had controlled The Need enough that he had not forcibly bent her will to his, he had not been able to fully extinguish the fire in his loins or his need for blood. His entire body throbbed. He also knew the outward effects of his battle with The Need were reflected in his glowing eyes and the twist of his mouth as it readied to accommodate the razor sharp incisors that were partially engaged.
If he could only unite his body with hers, feel her mouth welcoming his, feel the heat as he spread her open to receive him, he would forego the blood; he would only taste her body. Even as he vowed it to himself he knew it was not possible.
Thea took another step back and tried to sprint past him. But she was no match for him in speed and his outstretched hand quickly snagged her arm. The action was enough to snap him back to the edge of sanity.
His body shuddered and shook from the concentration it took to keep The Need under absolute control. He knew he would wonder later how he had managed such a feat. “Stay. I will leave. And do not worry. You are safe from me.”
She didn’t move or speak.
“You are safe,” he repeated. “I will not approach you again until you call me.”
“I will not call you,” she said.
“I think you will,” he countered, and hurriedly left the room before he broke the promise he had just made.
Chapter Eleven
AFTER JEROME LEFT, Dottie paced up and down the bedroom until her legs ached. She was confused beyond understanding.
She was attracted to Jerome. She was also repulsed by him. She wanted nothing more than to leave his home. Yet, she didn’t want to think about never seeing him again. She wanted him to make love to her. But the thought of his naked body covering hers made her cringe. And the very idea of him running his hands over another woman’s body, or capturing her mouth with his, filled her with envy. She felt as though she were going crazy.
His words kept repeating in her mind.
I will not approach you again until you call.
Until she called.
She would not call him. Not ever.
Mentally and physically exhausted, Dottie flopped down on the bed and fell asleep. When she awakened a short time later, she felt miraculously refreshed. She glanced at the clock. It was too late to call Angela and Casey. She suddenly had an overwhelming desire to speak to her stepsister.
Simone had slept with Julian while he was still a vampire. Although she hadn’t divulged anything of a private nature to Dottie, it was apparent nothing untoward had happened to her. And Simone now adored Julian as much as he worshipped her.
Dottie lay back on the bed, her hands folded behind her head. She had made a lot of progress since coming to San Francisco and much of it she owed to Jerome’s kindness and generosity. No wonder she was attracted to him. Of course, he wasn’t bad to look at either. She loved his long dark hair, those two disparate eyes that remained gray and blue until his emotions were stirred and then they flashed sparks of yellow and red.
&nb
sp; She realized with some surprise that she had come to accept these physical oddities of Jerome’s with relative ease. In spite of his underlying nature, outwardly he was no different than any other handsome, virile man.
While there had been a few men she’d dated since her divorce from Casey’s father five years ago, none had made the impression on her that Jerome Whitcombe had. And she had just treated him badly. Practically thrown him out of her room—his room, to be exact—because she couldn’t handle her attraction to him.
Okay, she could admit it. She wanted Jerome’s arms around her. She wanted him to kiss her. She hadn’t wanted him to give in to her objections so easily. She would apologize the next time she saw him, apologize for her bad manners. She might even admit that he was right about her desire for him. And there was no reason for her to fear being near Jerome again. No matter how much she had enjoyed his kiss she would not succumb to his charms. She could keep her desire for him under control. She should probably call him back and get the apology over with now, before she changed her mind.
She wondered where he had gone when he left. To his office? To his quarters downstairs? Out into the night? To the arms of another woman? She pushed the last thought away, instead recalling what he’d told her—that he would wait until she called him. Could she really do that? Their minds linked when they were near one another, but would it work from a distance? It was a challenge she would like to try.
Too restless to stay lying down, she jumped out of bed and walked over to the only window in the room. She closed her eyes and focused on touching Jerome’s mind with her own.
Jerome?
Was that the familiar nudge to her mind she felt?
Jerome? Can you hear me?
There was no answer, but the gentle stirring in her mind grew stronger. She focused harder.
I need to see you, Jerome.
Something compelled her to turn. She opened her eyes. Her hand flew to her mouth, silencing the gasp she couldn’t control. Jerome was standing in the middle of the room. She lowered her hand and said, “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
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