Seduced by the Night

by Robin T. Popp

  Remembering the violent way Mr. Yarbro had died and the look in the eyes of the vampire that almost killed her, Bethany had a hard time laughing off his joke. “I know Dirk seems rather strict, but he has kept me safe.”

  “Has he really?” He sounded doubtful. “Or have the attacks stopped and that’s why you’ve been safe?”

  Not wanting to continue this line of conversation, which could only lead to a fight, she counted to ten, slowly. “The reason I called is because I thought maybe we could get together for lunch.”

  She heard the sound of typing as he accessed his online schedule. “I’m sorry, Bethany. I’ve got back-to-back meetings all afternoon. My last one starts at six-thirty tonight.”

  Bethany forced herself to swallow her disappointment. “Okay. Some other time, then.”

  She was seconds from disconnecting the call when she heard him sigh. “No, wait. I do want to see you. How about dinner—say seven-thirty? I’ll make reservations at Nicolette’s—a cozy little table for two.”

  Seven-thirty meant it would be after dark. “Maybe we could go someplace else?”

  “Why? I thought you liked Nicolette’s.”

  Frustrated, Bethany shook the phone in her hand like she wanted to shake Miles. Then she calmly placed it back to her ear. “I do, but it’s going to be hard to have a cozy dinner for two when there will be three of us. Dirk’s not going to let me go anywhere without a bodyguard.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Adams won’t mind letting us have a table to ourselves while he sits nearby. After all, his job is to watch over you, not have dinner with you.”

  Bethany had to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out that it wasn’t Dirk’s job to do anything—he wasn’t getting paid. He was protecting her—at no little risk to himself—because . . . well, she wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe it was out of a sense of obligation or duty. Maybe it was something more.

  Accurately interpreting her silence, Miles tried again. “Bethany, I promise that I’ll be on my best behavior. Please, let’s get together for dinner. I feel like I haven’t seen you in days. I miss you.”

  Though she couldn’t help feeling like she was making a mistake, she agreed. “All right. Make the reservations. We’ll meet you there.”

  Miles hung up his phone and a part of him seethed. Bethany might be blind to it, but he knew Dirk Adams’s attention went beyond simply keeping her safe. It was almost as if he thought Bethany belonged to him. Miles’s temper flared at the other man’s audacity. Dirk Adams, by his very actions, had issued a challenge and while Miles might not be able to hold his own in the physical arena, he was not without means.

  He picked up the phone again and within minutes he was connected with the manager of Nicolette’s. It didn’t take him long to make reservations and when he hung up the phone, he couldn’t stop the smile that lit his face. He felt like rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation.

  Chapter 7

  When the sun went down shortly after six, Dirk was already awake and dressed. He knew that sooner or later, he’d have to face Beth again. He didn’t worry about whether she’d try to avoid him; he wasn’t going to give her the chance, but he had embarrassed and humiliated her, and for that he was sorry. Yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret what he’d done. Even now, the memory of her body pressed against his tormented him.

  He forced her from his thoughts and glanced at the Death Rider sword, hanging in its sheath from his bedpost. He wouldn’t take it tonight to the lab. Instead, he’d take his smaller dagger and let Mac carry the sword. He made a mental note to ask the admiral if he’d had a chance to contact his relatives living in England. That branch of the family was descended from the original blacksmith who’d forged the Death Rider sword and there had been some discussion about another being made now that there were two changelings to wield them.

  Dirk wondered how easy it would be to make another sword—or if it was even possible. There was something about the Death Rider sword that made it unique. Dirk didn’t believe in magic, but he wasn’t sure how else to explain why the eyes of the vampire emblem etched in the side of the pommel glowed when a vampire was around. Or why the ordinary blade remained eternally sharp and could easily sever the head of a vampire. Or why he and Mac, who had never used a sword before, could wield this one with the skill of master swordsmen.

  He looked at the sheathed dagger in his hand. There was nothing magical about it, but in a close fight with a vampire, it was more than adequate. He slipped it onto his belt, pulled on his duster, grabbed the Death Rider sword, and headed for the study.

  There, he found Beth sitting in one of the admiral’s large oversized leather chairs, reading. She looked up when he walked in and their eyes met. The intense awareness that surged between them was almost physical and Dirk wondered, again, what it was about this woman that had him acting so unlike himself. Even a simple greeting eluded him.

  Beth recovered first, closing the book she’d been reading. “Hi. Were you looking for me?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  He wanted to kick himself for sounding abrupt. “What I meant was that I didn’t come to the study looking for you—I didn’t know you were here.” He paused and realized that he wasn’t making the situation better. Finally, he held up the sword. “I came to put this back.”

  He continued across the room to the display case at the back, aware of Beth rising from her chair to follow him. He worked the combination to the lock on the case and opened the heavy glass lid. With special care and reverence, he set the sword on the stand inside, admiring the way the display light reflected off the silver and onyx sheath.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Dirk glanced down at the woman beside him. “Yes, she is.”

  A touch of pink stained Beth’s cheeks as she glanced up at him and then quickly looked around the room. “Are all these weapons yours?”

  Dirk followed the direction of both her gaze and the graceful sweep of her hand as she waved to the contents of the room. “No. All of this belongs to the admiral.”

  Her gaze returned to the Death Rider sword. “That’s the sword you used the other night, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “And where do you keep the silver crosses, wooden stakes, and supply of holy water?”

  He smiled. If she was joking with him, then she must not be too mad at him. “You know, I’ve never tried using a cross or holy water before. I have no idea if they would work. As for the stakes, well, I do carry a few with me, but I find the sword is a much more environmentally safe weapon.”

  She fought her own smile. “You don’t exactly strike me as the environmentally conscientious type.”

  “I have hidden depths,” he said with feigned seriousness. This time, she smiled in earnest before changing the subject.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Almost six months.”

  “What about Mac and Lanie?”

  “The same.” He paused, trying to think of it from her perspective. “I guess that seems strange to you, that we all work and live together.”

  She shrugged. “Given your particular line of work, not really. I think it’s nice. You’re kind of like your own little family.”

  Family. Dirk had never thought of it that way before, but she was right. It’d been so long since he’d had a family, he’d forgotten what it felt like. “Yeah, I guess we are.” Afraid this line of conversation would lead to places he’d rather not go, he glanced at his watch. “It’s almost dinnertime—are you hungry? We could see what’s in the kitchen to eat. Or grab something on the way to the lab.”

  “Oh, no. What time is it?” She grabbed his wrist and turned it so she could read his watch while he stared at her in amusement.

  “What’s the matter? You late for a hot date or something?”

  “As a matter of fact.” She released him as if she suddenly realized that she was touching him. “We’re meeting Miles for dinner.”
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br />   He was shaking his head before she even finished the sentence. “No.” She scowled, but he refused to cave. “Not just no, but hell no.”

  “Fine. I’ll ask Mac to take me.”

  The idea that she would even consider asking Mac irritated him. “Mac’s busy.”

  “Then I’ll go by myself.” She spun around and strode out of the study, leaving him to stand with his hands clenched into fists.

  He wanted to punch a hole in something—the door, the wall . . . Miles’s face. “Come back here,” he shouted after her. “We’re not through discussing this.”

  She didn’t answer and Dirk cursed loudly. Knowing he had no choice, he left the study and headed back upstairs to change clothes. It was going to be a long, long night.

  When Beth came down twenty minutes later, Dirk was waiting for her in the foyer. Silently, he groaned and prayed that years of harsh discipline would be enough to see him through the evening.

  She wore a tailored dress, the same emerald-green as her eyes, and it fit so perfectly that little of her figure was left to the imagination. The line of her cleavage above the plunging neckline led one’s gaze down an enticing trail until it disappeared beneath the fabric of the dress. His gaze lingered on the breasts that were fuller than he expected, having seen her in just the lab coat and oversized shirts up to this point. Her waist and hips were narrow and despite her being almost a foot shorter, from what he could see of her legs below the hem of her dress, they were long, slim, and shapely.

  Dirk’s pulse sped up. “You look stunning,” he told her when she reached the foot of the steps and stood before him.

  She gave him a nervous smile, like she hadn’t expected the compliment but was grateful for it. “You look very nice as well.”

  While she’d been getting dressed, he’d gone back to his room and replaced the black jeans, T-shirt, and duster with a monotone charcoal suit. The dagger was still strapped to his belt, but the jacket hid it from view.

  He moved toward the door and held it open for her. “Shall we go?”

  Across town, Miles finished the last of his paperwork and checked the clock on his desk. He needed to leave in a few minutes in order to meet Bethany. Tonight Miles would take extra pleasure from his dining experience. Nicolette’s wasn’t the type of place one expected to see a tough, unrefined man such as Dirk Adams. The contrast between Adams and himself would be stark and Miles felt sure that whatever attraction Bethany might feel toward Adams would vanish in the face of it.

  Miles signed the document before him, closed the manila folder, and placed it on the corner of his desk where his secretary would find it the next morning. He was about to stand up when the door suddenly opened and a man walked in.

  “What are you doing here?” Miles asked as equal parts of fear and annoyance coursed through him.

  “I thought it might be good if we talked.” His visitor closed the door before crossing the room to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

  “What about?” Miles asked, even though he thought he knew the answer.

  “I’d like to discuss the progress you’ve made on the work you’re doing for me—or rather the lack of progress.”

  Not normally one to be easily intimidated, Miles, nevertheless, found himself feeling nervous. He was playing outside his league and he knew it. “As I already told your errand boy, there have been a few delays, but we should be back on schedule shortly.”

  “What kind of delays?”

  “There have been several attacks on my fiancée, the lab was broken into, and one of the assistants is missing. Every time something like this occurs, naturally, it disrupts the work and puts us behind schedule.” He paused, eyeing the man across from him carefully. “I don’t suppose you’d know anything about these attacks?”

  “Me? No. Why would I know anything?”

  Miles let it go. This client was not the usual pharmaceutical representative or law enforcement agent that he was used to dealing with and he had no idea what the man was capable of. Wanting to bring an end to the conversation, he stood up. “If that’s all, I’m late for an important engagement. You see, I’m meeting my fiancée at Nicolette’s for dinner tonight.”

  “Is that right?” The other man smiled politely as he pulled out a cell phone, but otherwise made no move to leave. “I’m afraid you’ll have to miss it. But please, feel free to call her with your regrets. And if you’ll excuse me, while you do that, I have a call of my own to make.”

  Bethany couldn’t keep her eyes off Dirk, walking beside her. He really did look spectacular in his dress clothes. Miles always said that clothes made a man, but he’d never looked like this, no matter how expensive his clothes. There was even a fluid grace to Dirk’s movements that Bethany knew had nothing to do with clothing and everything to do with the finely honed athlete beneath.

  As they moved across the parking lot, she risked another glance, only to snap her gaze away when she found him watching her. Grateful for the darkness that helped to hide her blush, she focused her attention on the building ahead.

  Nicolette’s was an old house that had been converted into a restaurant. It was located in Georgetown, situated some distance from the road and surrounded by trees that gave it a feeling of privacy. And intimacy. Her traitorous thoughts returned to the man beside her and she grew all too aware of Dirk’s hand at the small of her back, guiding her along as they walked. By the time they reached the entrance to the restaurant, her nerves were wound tight.

  The maître d’ looked up when they stepped inside. “Miss Stavinoski, how nice to see you again,” he gushed. “Mr. Van Horne called earlier and your tables are ready. If you’ll follow me, please?”

  They were led to a cozy booth in a private corner of the restaurant.

  “I’m sorry,” Bethany said. “There must be some mistake. This table doesn’t look big enough for three.”

  The maître d’ merely smiled and gestured to another table a short distance away. “Mr. Van Horne also had this one reserved.”

  Bethany felt a flash of annoyance as she realized what Miles was trying to do. “This is unaccept—” Dirk’s hand on her arm stopped her words in mid-protest.

  “This will be fine,” he said. He ushered her into the side of the booth facing the back of the room while he sat opposite her, a gleam in his eyes.

  “I believe Mr. Van Horne reserved this table for you,” the maître d’ said curtly.

  “I’m sure he did, but I’ve decided to sit here. Is that a problem?”

  His tone made it clear that the only problem would be if the man tried to argue with him, and the maître d’, looking fretful but intelligent, offered a pained smile and called over the waiter, who took their drink orders.

  Left alone, Bethany stared at Dirk, trying to figure him out. “You don’t like him, do you?” she asked.

  “Who? The waiter?”

  She gave him a look. “Miles.”

  He picked up a menu and made a show of studying it, but she refused to let him ignore her. “Miles is a warm, caring man. He’s smart, sophisticated—”

  “Look.” Dirk folded the menu and set it aside to look at her. “We’ve already had this conversation. The bottom line is—no, I don’t like the guy. The Van Hornes are old money. Growing up, I doubt the guy wanted for a single thing.”

  Something in the way he said the words told her that his childhood hadn’t been the happiest. She wanted to ask him about it when her cell phone rang. Digging in her purse, she pulled out her phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Bethany, it’s Miles. I’m sorry, my dear. I’m not going to make dinner tonight. Something unexpected has come up. Business. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Oh. Can’t you get out of it? Please?”

  “I’m afraid not. There’s just no way. Are you already at the restaurant?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you come alone?” He sounded worried.

  She glanced over at Dirk. “No.”

&nb
sp; There was a pause and she heard him sigh. “I need to go. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “All right.” She disconnected the call and put away her cell phone. “Miles won’t be joining us,” she told Dirk as she looked around. “Do you see our waiter? We should try to cancel our order.”

  “Why?”

  His question surprised her. “Well, you don’t want to really stay here and eat—do you?”

  “Have you eaten here before?”

  “Yes, Miles likes it, so we come here often.”

  “Is the food any good?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Great, then I don’t see a problem. We have to eat anyway and we’re already here. Why leave and go someplace else?”

  She gave him a doubtful look. “This is a fondue restaurant. You don’t strike me as the kind of man who eats a lot of fondue.”

  He shrugged. “Food’s food. I’ll give it a try and if we don’t get enough to eat, we’ll stop off and grab a burger on the way home. How’s that?”

  “Actually, that sounds really good.”

  That caused him to raise an eyebrow. “You a burger and fries girl?”

  “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I had a really great burger and hot, crisp French fries. Miles refuses to eat such ‘common fare,’ as he puts it.” She shrugged, a little embarrassed to have shared that. “You know what they say—simple pleasures for simple minds.”

  He gave her an intense look. “There’s nothing simple about you, Beth.”

  At that moment, the waiter appeared with their drinks and Dirk ordered a selection of meats and vegetables for two. When they were alone again, Bethany glanced around to make sure no one was within listening range before leaning forward slightly. “Tell me about vampires. We didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday.”

  Dirk raised an eyebrow. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Start at the beginning. Where’d they come from? How’d you get involved? Is fighting vampires something you do for the police? How long have you been doing it? What—?”

  “Whoa, slow down,” he said, chuckling. “First things first. I don’t know how long vampires have been around, exactly, but the sword you saw earlier today was forged centuries ago to slay them, so they must have been around for at least that long. Here in the United States, though, I don’t think any existed until six months ago.”