by Mia Taylor
She’s special, she’s different, and she likes me despite the incredible sadness she carries in her heart. Her father has beaten down her spirit just as mine had done and she has tried to break free of it since she was a child. Maybe it’s kismet. Perhaps that’s why I felt so instantly connected to her.
It was strange for him to feel so strongly toward a woman who was clearly not his match in any way he could physically see, but from the moment he had put his hands on her in the cafeteria that day, Vivier was sure that he had found his mate.
I wonder what Papp would say about that, he thought, the notion clouding his otherwise gleeful feeling. But only momentarily. He wasn’t about to let the memory of his overbearing father ruin the best night he’d had in years.
Maybe ever.
As hard as he tried, he couldn’t think of a time when he had been as smitten with a woman the way he was with Quinn.
He walked into the liquor store and the clerk eyed him with boredom as he ambled down the aisles and found two more bottles of wine, his mind still replaying the evening.
It is not over yet. She was going to send me on my way but she changed her mind. I could see it in her face. She feels our connection also. Maybe we’ll be good for each other if we can both lower our guard somewhat.
He picked up his pace, eager to return to Quinn’s side. A small part of him worried that she might have changed his mind in the short time that he’d been away. Vivier placed the wine before the cashier, who rang him in quickly and sent him on his way almost silently.
The fallen prince was back on the street in less than five minutes, his fingers curled around the paper of the bag encasing the wine.
Will she want to make love? he wondered, his heart picking up slightly at the idea. Certainly, he’d never been shy around the opposite sex, but for some reason, the idea of being intimate with Quinn unnerved him.
This really is a first time with her, he mused with some wryness. How long has it been since I’ve been jittery to be with any woman?
He doubted there ever was such a time.
As he walked toward Quinn’s building, he saw a plain police car pulled up to the curb, lights flashing on the dashboard.
He wouldn’t have thought it strange under normal circumstances, police presence becoming almost commonplace to him, but something twisted in his gut as he buzzed the nurse’s aide, his sixth sense warning him about something he didn’t quite understand.
There was no immediate response and Vivier waited, a slight sweat breaking out on his face.
Are they here for me? he wondered nervously. Have they found out I am an imposter and have come to arrest me? Or has Papp finally caved and sent out word to have me return?
He dismissed both thoughts as ridiculous. After all, it had been months. If his father really had wanted him back, there were less conspicuous ways of sending for him and if there was anything Emile hated, it was a display.
You’re imagining things. You’re no one now, no one important. Don’t forget that.
He buzzed again and this time he was let in, but Quinn did not speak as the front door clicked open to permit him entry.
He paused in the small lobby and dug his cell phone from his pocket, staring at it for a long moment. The debate whether to go upstairs or not was weighing on him much heavier than it should have.
He texted Quinn on a whim.
Is everything okay?
He waited impatiently but there was no response.
Vivier was torn as he stood in the lobby, grinding his teeth. His impulse was to leave, at least until he got word from Quinn that everything was all right. Conversely, he wanted to run upstairs in a fury and ensure that she was safe, even though he was sure that the police presence had nothing to do with her.
There are other units in this building. What makes you think that this cop is here for you or has anything to do with you?
Yet no matter how he tried to rationalize it, he couldn’t dismiss the combination of excitement and anxiety which seized him as he stared at his phone expectantly.
As if sensing his deep desire, the device buzzed in his hand.
Yes and no. My dad showed up unexpectedly, she responded and Vivier’s brow furrowed at the unforeseen response.
Well, that is better than someone being arrested, he thought, nodding, as he punched the elevator button. Her father I can handle. Parents love me.
He didn’t remind himself that parents loved his royal stature, one he didn’t maintain anymore.
It was too late to back away now. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and the doors opened. He boarded the lift, plastering a smile on his face as if to practice in the empty elevator.
If he is as hard as Quinn has said, I know his type well. I just have to make sure I don’t antagonize him too much. He probably won’t stay long anyway.
Vivier was not sure how successful he would be about winning over Quinn’s father, but he didn’t have much of a choice. The alternative was leaving the best part of his journey to America so far and that wasn’t something he was about to let up easily.
The elevator door opened again and he was assaulted by the sound of loud, raucous voices even before he stepped foot into the hall. He found himself clutching the bottles tightly to his chest. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling nearly as heady as he had when he’d left.
Thankfully I brought reinforcements for her, he thought dryly. He held fast to the mild buzz he was carrying, knowing it was likely to be short-lived.
He turned toward the closed door of Quinn’s apartment, the boisterousness growing louder as he approached.
Before he could knock, the door flew inward and Quinn stared at him, her face depicting the misery she was feeling. It was clear she had been waiting for him to return.
“Hi,” she whispered. “Sorry about this.”
Vivier shook his head, maintaining the smile on his face, but when he turned, the grin froze on his cheeks. Two men bearing gold shields on their hips leered at him from the living room.
I should have trusted my gut, he thought miserably. I know better than to ignore it.
“Well, look at that, Chief! Quinny has herself a boyfriend!” the younger man chortled but there was little mirth in his tone. If anything, Vivier’s arrival seemed to bring with it an ominous blanket of heaviness. The older man’s face grew solemn as he eyed Vivier.
“I can see that,” he growled, folding his arms firmly over a decently broad chest.
“Marc Reich,” Vivier offered, stepping forward to offer his hand. Quinn’s father glanced at it disdainfully. For a second, Vivier was sure he wasn’t going to take it, but before the prince could draw his hand back, the sheriff accepted it with some annoyance.
“Damon Sommer.” There wasn’t a modicum of warmth in his voice.
No matter what kind of father he is, Vivier thought reasonably, every man is going to look at his daughter’s potential suitor like this.
But Vivier couldn’t help but feel there was more to it than that.
“Chief Damon Sommer!” his counterpart chortled, but again, he would have been deaf not to hear the ice in his words. Vivier felt his face grow pale as he glanced at Quinn.
She hadn’t mentioned her father was in law enforcement. Quinn stared at the ground, looking as if she hoped the floor would open up and swallow her whole, but, of course, life was never that easy.
“Dad, can you—” Quinn started but her father interjected as if she wasn’t in the middle of a sentence.
“Marc, huh?” Damon asked, scrutinizing his face closely. “Do I know you, Marc?”
Vivier shook his head quickly and replaced his dimming smile.
“I do not think I have had the pleasure, sir,” he replied, trying to adjust his profile to shadow his face.
As if that is going to help matters, he thought grimly. If he recognizes you, moving your cheeks to the side isn’t going to help in the least.
Heat began to creep into his face and he silently willed himself
to keep his composure.
“Ever been in trouble with the law, Marc?” Damon jeered, arching his neck to the side like he was sizing up a criminal.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Quinn demanded, interrupting what was clearly leading into an interrogation. “This is really not a good time.”
Damon kept his eyes firmly on Vivier but he answered his daughter’s question.
“A man can’t come by and visit his only child?” he asked. Vivier felt himself cringing at the lack of sincerity in Damon’s tone and he shot Quinn a sympathetic look, but her face was fixed on her father almost hatefully.
“A man never comes by and visits his only child,” she shot back. “So you’ll forgive my shock.”
“We had to talk to a CI in the building,” the unidentified cop volunteered. Damon gave the deputy a scathing look and he immediately shut his mouth, realizing his mistake too late.
“Well, as you can see, this is a bad time,” Quinn told them again, trying to position them toward the door.
“Lena told me you quit the calling center,” Damon said, finally wrenching his suspicious eyes from Vivier’s face to glower at his daughter. “Does Marc have anything to do with that?”
“How the hell does Lena know that?” Quinn asked, her face registering shock. Damon smirked.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he snapped, shaking his head. “Honestly, you just refuse to get ahead, don’t you?”
“Are you spying on me now?” Quinn demanded furiously. “Is Lena?”
Damon’s leer faded and he scowled.
“Of course not,” he barked. “Lena is friends with your boss, Tina.”
“Former boss,” Quinn mumbled but no one seemed to notice.
“And I see you’re moving. That’s what happens when you don’t work, Quinn. You can’t afford to pay rent.”
Vivier felt a stab of protectiveness wash over him as he heard the condescending way Damon spoke to his daughter.
“Dad, my roommate died,” she snapped, exasperated. “I can’t afford the rent alone, even with two jobs.”
She emphasized the last words to garner some sympathy, Vivier was sure, but they seemed to have no effect on the chief.
“Life is hard, kiddo. How many times do I have to tell you?” Damon replied uselessly. “You’ve always been some dreamer, thinking that someone is going to wave some magic wand and things will be okay, but you make your own luck in this life.”
Vivier didn’t need to look at Quinn’s face to feel her palpable animosity. He was too busy gaping at Damon in disbelief.
She just told you that her friend died and you’re lecturing her about not running herself into the ground. What a prick.
“Dad, can I call you tomorrow? I really don’t think this is the—”
“What do you do for a living, Marc?” Damon asked, again ignoring his daughter. Vivier was beginning to loathe the sound of the man’s voice but he bit back his temper.
Just placate him enough to get him out of the apartment without causing trouble, he thought, shooting Quinn a commiserating look, but she was too humiliated to meet his eyes.
“I work at the hospital with Quinn,” Vivier replied. Suddenly, Damon’s hazel eyes lit up like a fourth of July celebration. Almost licking his lips, he leaned forward with interest that Vivier didn’t immediately understand.
“You’re a doctor?” Damon asked, glancing gleefully at his daughter. Quinn cast him a warning look but Vivier ignored it.
“I am a custodian,” he replied.
Damon’s face fell instantly and his partner whooped with laughter.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Damon muttered, a disgusted look coloring his face. “You work in a hospital and you bring home a janitor. It’s like you’re determined to screw up your life, Quinn.”
“Is having a job considered demeaning in America?” Vivier asked with clipped anger in his voice. “Where I come from, it implies a good ethic.”
“Having a shitty job is,” the chief replied. “And dragging my daughter down with you won’t win you any points in my book. Where is it that you’re from that being a housekeeper is praised, pal?”
“Dad!” Quinn was furious but Vivier met his eyes evenly, a strange calm overtaking him even though he could feel the throb of his fangs against the pull of his gums. He was tempted to terrify Damon in a way that he wouldn’t soon forget but he knew he needed to keep his wits about him.
“What?” Damon jeered. “You got something to say to me, boy?”
A humorless grin formed on Vivier’s lips and he curled his full lips upward so the points of his teeth appeared. He noted a familiar look of uncertainty on the deputy’s face but Damon seemed to hold his ground.
“How convenient that she becomes your daughter when you appear to need a place to unleash your frustrations,” Vivier replied coldly. Abruptly, the cruel smirk faded from the sheriff’s face and he lunged toward Vivier, only to be stopped by his companion.
“Don’t do it, Chief,” the man muttered.
“You don’t know the first thing about my relationship with my daughter!” he howled. “How dare some toilet scrubber give me a lecture? I’m the goddamned sheriff!”
I hit him just where it counts, Vivier thought smugly. Right in the ego.
“Dad, get out!” Quinn screamed, her face scarlet with fury. “Get out and don’t come back here!”
Damon stared at Quinn in shock.
“You would pick this garbage man immigrant over your own father?” he growled, his eyes firing bullets at Vivier.
“Dad, please just go,” Quinn whispered, turning away.
Silently, the policemen stalked to the door, pausing to stare back at the couple, but Vivier did not look up. He knew meeting Damon’s eyes would only inspire another round between them.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Quinn, because I’m not going to help you when you go ass-up when this fails just like everything else in your life.”
“If I understand, sir, you haven’t helped anyway,” Vivier snapped, strolling toward the door and slamming it in his face and locking it before Damon could reply.
He turned to Quinn, immediately contrite.
I should not have gone that far. That man is her father, after all.
To his surprise, Quinn was uncorking a bottle of wine as if the scene hadn’t just unfolded in front of them.
“Drink?” she offered, not a note of upset in her word. Vivier looked at her warily.
“I am sorry, Quinn,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as Quinn threw herself into his arms, placing her lips on his mouth.
She tasted sweet, like a combination of wine and salt and Vivier responded instantly, his arms slipping around her waist to pull her close.
“Don’t apologize,” she breathed as she ended the kiss reluctantly. “No one has ever stood up for me, not once in my life.”
A deep sadness and anger overcame him as he read the truth of her statement.
Instead of responding, he drew her to him again, his tongue darting forth to tease her rosebud lips.
Her back arched against the dining room table and Vivier pushed her back slowly, sliding her fully atop the tablecloth as his hands moved along the front of her simple black dress.
He wanted to remember each curve of her body as he explored it so he could replay it in his mind later when he was alone.
Deliberately, he allowed his head to fall along the lines of her neck, her fingers tentatively touching his hair as his face made its way to the space between her creamy thighs.
She tensed as he spread her apart, his palms easing the material of her dress over her hips.
Around the smooth skin of her flat stomach his lips grazed, inhaling the succulence of her flesh.
Quinn sighed, propping herself onto her elbows as she watched him with wide, smoky eyes.
He rolled her panties along her thighs, his kisses punctuating the motio
n.
As the cotton thong fell to the floor, Vivier scooped his hands under her firm buttocks, staring deep into her eyes as he delved into her center.
Almost instantly, her head fell back against the table with a thud, and she moaned with pleasure.
Faster he worked his tongue, Quinn’s cries encouraging him in the right direction until she spasmed almost violently, bucking up against him.
He lapped up every drop of the nectar inside her before straightening himself to allow his pants to fall to the floor before joining her on the table.
She spread her legs wider to accommodate him, reaching for his shirt to pull him close.
As their lips met again, he filled her fluidly.
A beast unleashed in him and he plunged in and out of her with hard, full thrusts, Quinn writhing beneath him.
His lips contained her screams, driving him to greater, deeper lengths until he could not hold on for another second.
They were quiet, listening to the sound of each other’s heartbeat for a long moment, and it was only then that he tasted the blood of her lips against his.
Shocked, he pulled his head back and stared at her in disbelief, realizing that it was she who had bitten him, but Quinn didn’t seem to notice.
His heart began to thump wildly as he saw something in her he hadn’t seen before.
She carries the blood too. She’s got the lineage.
“What?” she murmured, peering up at him through hazy eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I must tell her who I am, he thought, licking away the red from his mouth. She deserves to know the truth about me. She has been hurt by too many before and I won’t let myself be someone else who disappoints her.
Swallowing, he lifted himself up to stare at her fully.
“Quinn, I need to tell—”
The table gave way beneath them and they crashed onto the floor with a bang, wood splintering into a dozen directions.
“Ow!” Quinn cried, laughing as he fell on top of her in a pile.
