He glared past her into the lab. “How long, Bethany? How long are you planning to stay out at that place?”
“I don’t know, Miles. Until it’s safe to leave, I guess.”
“I don’t like it—and I don’t like that man. I know you trust him and it seems he’s good at what he does, but . . . it’s just not right.”
Miles was usually a very patient man, but even he had his limits. “The award ceremony is coming up,” he ventured on. “You’ll want to accept the Rod O’Connor Award in person, won’t you?”
It was a cheap shot. He knew how much receiving that award meant to her. She struggled to control her irritation and was saved from answering him when a buzzer went off in the lab. “Miles, I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She started to walk away, the extra cup of coffee in her hand, but Miles put a hand on her arm to stop her. “I’m sorry, Bethany. I miss you.” He kissed her then, but it wasn’t their usual gentle exchange. She wondered if he was trying to overwhelm her with the intensity of his passion. Whatever his intentions, the kiss smacked of desperation and was almost painful in its forcefulness. Only because she understood how threatened he felt by Dirk’s presence did she manage to endure his “show of affection” and not push him away. Finally, the kiss ended and she took a step back. Not knowing what to say, she mumbled a simple “Good night, Miles,” and walked back into the lab.
As she returned to her workstation, she felt Dirk watching her. Setting the cup of coffee on the counter, she glanced up and saw the dark expression on his face.
“What?” she asked irritably.
“So that guy really does it for you?”
“Brings me coffee? Yes, on occasion, when he knows I’m working late.”
Dirk narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. Does he rev your engine? Get your juices flowing?”
She turned to gape at him. “I beg your pardon. That is disgusting.”
“Yeah, I think so, too, but I’m not the one kissing a man old enough to be my father.”
“He’s not old. He’s”—she searched for the right word—“mature.”
Dirk gave a bark of laughter. “Is that what you call it? Out of curiosity, what’s the age difference? Twenty? Thirty years?”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “Twenty years, and that’s not that big of a difference.”
Dirk shrugged. “So, again, what’s the attraction?”
Bethany forced herself to get back to work. “I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”
“Someone like me?”
“Yes. Someone who thinks that sweaty bodies, rolling around in bed, having marathon sex is the signpost of a strong relationship.”
He got off his stool and Bethany hoped he was leaving her alone to work. She didn’t even bother to watch him go, focusing her attention instead on pouring the exact amount of reagent into the flask before her. That is, until she felt him come up to stand behind her, the heat from his body warming her back. His hands came up to caress her shoulders and his touch rattled her so much that she had to set the beaker of reagent back on the counter before she dropped it.
She knew she should step away from him, yet he held her trapped between his body and the table and his hands on her shoulders felt strong and his soothing strokes rendered her incapable of moving. He closed the last small distance between them until their bodies touched and her heart pounded with anticipation. Then he lowered his head so that his cheek brushed Bethany’s ear.
His breath fanned across her neck in warm moist puffs of air. “When you’re with him, ” he said, his voice rumbling low in his chest, “is he all you think about? Does he fill you with a need so great you’re afraid that if he touches you, you’ll explode, but if he doesn’t, you’ll die?” His lips grazed her neck as he spoke, sending shivers down her spine. “Do his kisses rob you of every thought?” His hand slipped around her waist and he roughly pulled her tightly against him. “Can you feel the longing for him all the way down to that sweet spot between your legs?”
Bethany couldn’t have responded if her life depended on it. His words, his touch, had reduced her to a mass of quivering emotions. She closed her eyes, lost in the sensations he stirred deep inside her; feelings that scared and tempted her at the same time. She knew he should stop, but prayed that he wouldn’t.
Abruptly he released her and stepped away. Her body chilled in the sudden absence of his heat and as she tried to pull herself together, he crossed the room, only to stop when he reached the door. She dared to look at him and his hungry, burning gaze raked over her body before meeting her eyes. “You wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the physical aspect of a relationship if you’d ever experienced it done right. Maybe Miles isn’t the right man for you, Beth. Not if he can’t unlock that passionate nature you try to keep hidden inside. What you need . . . is a real man.”
Like me. The unspoken words echoed in her head long after he walked out the door. She reached out, blindly, for the lab stool and pulled it closer so she could collapse onto it. She was in trouble, she thought over and over. How could she react like that to one man when she was engaged to another? More surprising to her was how she could react at all? She’d never felt like that. No one had elicited those feelings from her—ever. All her life, she’d thought the problem lay with her; that she was genetically incapable of feeling passion. Yet here she stood, breathless, hot, and aroused—and all he’d done was rub her shoulders and whisper in her ear.
Inside her chest, her heart still raced. Taking a deep breath, she tried to be rational. Dirk was a good-looking man and had probably been with hundreds of women. He was a master seducer and she, with her handful of pathetic past relationships, was no match for his mechanisms.
Miles, on the other hand, while not ruggedly masculine, was nevertheless warm, sensitive, intelligent, and refined. He might not be manly by Dirk’s standards, but he was still a good man. And the fact that Miles had never, ever aroused in her even a modicum of the feelings Dirk just had, meant nothing. Nothing at all.
Dirk stormed out of the lab. He had to get out of there before he did something he’d regret later. Or worse, that he wouldn’t regret at all.
Walking through the outer lab doors, he stopped short when Mac blocked his way. From the expression on his friend’s face, Dirk knew that he’d witnessed most, if not all, of what had just taken place. Dirk saw the condemnation in his friend’s eyes—it mirrored what he felt for himself—but Dirk wasn’t prepared to deal with it. He started to push past Mac, but the latter grabbed his arm.
Dirk glared into the hard gaze of his friend before turning his attention to the offending hand until Mac removed it. Without a word, Dirk continued down the hallway to the elevators and then out the building’s front doors before Mac caught up to him.
“What the hell’s the matter with you? She’s engaged.”
“Stay out of this, Mac. It doesn’t concern you.”
“It does if you’re letting your emotions distract you. These are vampires we’re dealing with, or had you forgotten?”
“No. I haven’t forgotten.”
Dirk heard Mac sigh. “Then what’s gotten into you?”
Dirk paced a short distance away and dragged a hand down his face before turning to Mac, his anger and hostility fading. “She has.”
Mac studied him for several minutes and then slowly nodded. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” He came over and clapped a hand against Dirk’s back in a gesture of sympathy. “Yeah. Happened the same way to me.”
“With one glaring difference. Lanie wasn’t married. Beth is . . . She’s not mine—never will be. She belongs to someone else.”
Dirk would have loved to have Mac tell him he was wrong, that Beth could be his, but his friend remained quiet. They both knew the way things had to be.
“Watch her for me, will you? I need to get away from here for a while.”
Bethany looked up from her work and was surprised to see Mac walk into the la
b. “Where’s Dirk?”
“He . . . had something he needed to do.”
She tried to ignore his all too knowing look. “When will he be back?”
“I don’t know.”
She nodded, feeling the hurt and anger squeeze her chest. Maybe it was just as well that he was gone, she argued to herself. She found his presence all too unsettling and that was not a good thing for a woman to feel when she was engaged to another man.
Inside the lair, Patterson stared at the withered, dying form of the latest experiment. “I can’t sell this crap on the black market,” he shouted. “No one’s going to buy it if it doesn’t work.” He turned away from the sight and pinned Stuart with a glare. “I should have killed you the day you arrived.”
“What you’re asking for is virtually impossible,” the cocky young biochemist shot back.
“Is that right?” Patterson snarled, turning back to the body chained to the wall. The subject’s life had finally expired. “Then tell me, Stuart,” he said, affecting a calm he didn’t feel, “why should I keep you alive?”
Stuart’s eyes widened slightly. “Because you still need me.”
“Really? I don’t know. I feel like you’re wasting my time. Are you wasting my time, Stuart?” He moved closer to the young man, but stopped when he felt the familiar tingling along the psychic link of Harris’s presence. It was followed seconds later by the vampire’s appearance.
“What’s going on?”
“Where have you been?” Patterson snarled.
“Out.” Harris didn’t offer any further explanation but Patterson knew already. He knew about the adult chupacabra. It was a testament to his higher intellect, he thought, that he allowed Harris to operate in ignorance. Let Harris find the creature and when he had, Patterson would move in and use it, much as Burton had.
Still, even with the adult chupacabra, there was a need to have a supply of synthetic venom. Burton’s experience taught him that much. The adult was unreliable.
“I need the Stavinoski woman,” he muttered to no one in particular. “My source tells me that she’s been working nights at the lab. Maybe we should try to take her again.”
Harris shook his head. “Building security will be tighter than ever. We’d have a hell of a time getting in undetected.”
“Not if you had an ID badge.”
Patterson and Harris turned together to stare at Stuart, who smiled back at them. In his hand he held his Van Horne Technologies security card.
Bethany woke up the next morning feeling tired and out of sorts. Dirk hadn’t come back to the lab last night and Miles hadn’t bothered to call her after the reception. She’d done her best to shove both men from her thoughts as she worked and Mac had finally brought her back to the mansion around two in the morning.
The kitchen was empty by the time she’d dressed and gone downstairs, but a fresh pot of much needed coffee sat on the counter. Pouring herself a cup, she searched for sweetener and creamer and met with limited success. She didn’t care, though, and after mixing in a packet of sweetener, she took a drink. Closing her eyes, she let the sweet hot essence slide down her throat and tried to imagine the liquid energy coursing through her veins, spreading throughout her body, reviving her. It was enough to make her sigh.
“I don’t suppose you have any more of whatever it is you’re drinking?”
Startled, Bethany opened her eyes to see an unfamiliar forty-something woman standing at the kitchen entryway, holding a large gargoyle statue in one hand and a small collection of notebooks in the other. She had dark chestnut hair that fell to about chin length. It was perfectly coiffed and the silk navy-blue suit she wore probably cost as much as Bethany’s monthly apartment rental.
The woman smiled and moved confidently toward the table. “I’m Julia Penrose,” she said, setting the notebooks down before carefully placing the gargoyle in the middle of the table, where it was less likely to fall. “I’m Admiral Winslow’s new personal assistant.”
She held out her hand and Bethany finally remembered her manners. “I’m sorry. Bethany Stavinoski. I’m . . . staying here.” She cringed at the vagueness of her words, but Julia smiled.
“The admiral explained that in addition to his philanthropic pursuits he also runs a security agency and that a client was currently in residence. I assume that would be you.”
Bethany opened her mouth to offer some explanation, but Julia stopped her. “He also explained that much of the security work was on a need-to-know basis. If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me.”
Relieved, Bethany took another drink of her coffee and then abruptly set down the cup. “I’m sorry. You wanted coffee.” She took another cup from the cabinet. “How do you take it?”
“Sweetener and cream, please.”
“Well, I found the sweetener, but I haven’t had much luck finding creamer.”
“I think I can help there.” Julia walked over to the pantry beside the oven and opened the door. “I seem to remember seeing it in here yesterday. Oh, yes, here it is.” She handed Bethany the nondairy creamer and Bethany caught a whiff of the woman’s perfume. It was a warm, rich scent of cloves and cinnamon that seemed to somehow fit her. Spooning creamer into the cup, she glanced at Julia.
“One will be fine, thank you,” the woman answered her unspoken question.
Bethany poured the coffee and then handed the woman her cup. Fixing herself another, she resumed her spot leaning against the counter.
At that moment, Mac’s voice drifted in from the other room. “Are you telling me you didn’t feel it?” He sounded tired and incredulous.
“What? The ‘disturbance in the force’?” Dirk asked in a mock movie-announcer voice. Then, sounding like himself again, he went on. “Okay, seriously. Yes, I did, but that doesn’t prove anything. It certainly doesn’t mean she’s still alive.”
“But it might.”
The two men appeared in the kitchen doorway and when Bethany looked up, her gaze locked with Dirk’s. Her cheeks heated at the memory of his body pressed close to hers and she found herself incapable of speech.
When she finally tore her gaze away, she found Mac staring at Julia.
“Who are you?” he asked.
In her cultured tone, she introduced herself. “My name is Julia Penrose. I’m Admiral Winslow’s new assistant. And you are?”
Surprisingly, a small smile touched Mac’s lips. “Mac Knight. It’s very nice to meet you.” He shook hands with her and then turned to gesture toward Dirk. “This is Dirk Adams. We run the security end of the business, which means we usually work nights.”
Julia held her hand out to Dirk, who hesitated a moment before taking it. “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he said gruffly.
“Are you just coming in?” Julia asked the two men.
“As a matter of fact, we are,” Mac replied.
“There’s plenty of coffee,” Julia offered. “Would you care for any?”
“No, thank you. I think we’ll just get some shut-eye.”
“I thought I heard your voice,” Lanie said, walking in and going straight to her husband, who pulled her close for a thorough good-morning kiss. When she broke away seconds later, she looked flushed and happy. “I see you’ve had a chance to meet Julia.”
“Yes,” Mac said. “We were just introducing ourselves.”
“Good morning, everyone.” Admiral Winslow’s deep booming voice filled the room as he joined them. “I trust everyone had a good night?” The way he asked the question, his gaze lingering on Mac and Dirk, Bethany knew he was asking if they’d encountered any more vampires.
The two men nodded solemnly. “Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Dirk said.
“Good, good. Glad to hear it,” the admiral continued. He turned his attention to the women. “Lanie, Bethany. Good morning to you. I trust all is well.”
They each nodded.
Then he turned his full attention on Julia. “Good morning, Julia.”
Bethany noticed the subtl
e change in his tone and gaze when he addressed his new assistant. It seemed warmer, more personal.
“Good morning, Admiral,” Julia replied and for the first time all morning sounded a little flustered.
“Call me Charles, please. I’m retired now and Admiral Winslow sounds too . . . formal.” He smiled and Bethany found herself thinking that the admiral’s interest in his new assistant might be more than professional. Judging from the pleased expression on Julia’s face, she didn’t think the interest was one-sided.
“What’s this doing here?”
Lanie’s question distracted her and Bethany noticed she was looking at the statue.
“Oh, I brought that in here,” Julia said. “It was sitting in the middle of the desk, making it terribly difficult to work. I wondered if we might find a new home for it?”
“Of course,” Lanie said. “In fact, I’ll put it away right now.” She picked up the statue and walked out of the kitchen.
“Julia, it was nice meeting you,” Mac said. “If you’ll excuse me?” She nodded and he turned to Dirk. “We’ll finish this later.”
Dirk also pushed away from the counter. “Julia, it was nice meeting you. Beth.” He dipped his head in farewell, gave the admiral a curious look, and then followed Mac out of the kitchen.
“Shall we get started?” the admiral asked Julia.
“Yes.” She turned to Bethany. “Thank you for the coffee. I do hope we’ll have a chance to talk again soon.”
“I’d like that,” Bethany agreed. She watched the two leave and was alone once more. Fighting an inexplicable sense of disappointment, she refilled her cup and went back to her room, where her thoughts turned to Dirk Adams, as they tended to do all too often.
Thinking of that man was not doing her relationship with Miles much good. What she needed was a chance to spend more time with her fiancé. Struck with an idea, she picked up her cell phone, as there wasn’t a phone in the room, and punched in a number.
“I can’t believe it,” Miles teased when he answered and heard her voice. “Your warden is actually allowing you to make a social call?”
Seduced by the Night Page 7
