by Jane Ederlyn
He stood at the door, an expectant grin on his face. He was dressed much like he’d been at the gallery, in dark denim jeans and a black, button-down shirt. Her first impression of him was that he was good looking and that wasn’t swayed in the light of day.
“Please, call me Odin. You’re Abigail, right? It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“How may I help you?”
“Is Marie in?”
“I’m sorry you went to so much trouble, but she’s not here.” She hoped she didn’t sound rude, but there was something about him, despite his muscles and good looks, that rubbed her the wrong way.
“Will she be gone long?” he asked.
Like a snap of a finger or a window shutting with a slam, she developed an instant dislike of Odin. Perhaps it was because he acted too sure of himself? Perhaps it was the way he manipulated Jude and Marie, though she found it hard to imagine that Marie could be manhandled? Perhaps it was his audacity at following the delivery truck and showing up unannounced? Did he expect payment for the gift? If he truly knew Marie, he would know that she was sleeping. Whatever it was about him, she didn’t like it. “She’s not in. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have things to attend to. Please show yourself out.”
She started to close the door, but he stuck his foot out as a barrier. “Can I wait inside?”
“No.” She stared up at him, standing her ground.
His eyes were blue—the color of an endlessly deep ocean reflecting the sun. His jaw tensed and for a moment, and his eyes dilated and flickered gold. It happened so fast that Abby questioned whether she had seen it at all.
“Give her these.” He produced a lavender bouquet from behind his back and waved it like a white flag.
Abby raised a brow. He smiled smugly, obviously happy with himself. She grudgingly took the flowers and he removed his foot.
“Thank you, Mr. Ulfsson. Goodbye now.” She closed the door and it shook with finality.
“Odin. Call me Odin,” he said to the closed door. It grated that the little brat had stared him down.
He turned to check out the premises. The gate was good for keeping out humans, but it wouldn’t keep out werewolves. Then again, she didn’t have anything to fear from lycanthropes.
He thought buying the painting for Marie would at least get him inside. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since they’d met and it was driving him crazy. He sniffed the air, trying to dissect the surrounding scents. He picked up Ms. Prissy Renfield in there, another human woman, a trace of Marie that could mean anything and nothing else.
He sat on a front step, figuring that he couldn’t miss her arrival from there, and she couldn’t miss him providing she came in via the front door. If she had a secret vampire entrance, he was screwed.
While he waited, the housekeeper left, the sun slid west, and Renfield watched him a lot. He stopped counting the times he saw curtains flutter. When his stomach rumbled for the third time, he contemplated knocking on the door again. It might be tempting fate to ask for something to eat, but he needed food. He either knocked or left. Just as he stood to approach the door, electric panels rolled open. He peered upstairs, and it finally dawned on him that although Marie seemed human to him, she was indeed a vampire and vampires slept during the day.
Why hadn’t he thought of that? It made sense why this Abigail was prickly, not letting him in the house, and why all the second story shutters were locked down.
His mood lifted. Time had stretched abominably since their tryst and he couldn’t wait to see her again and feel her in his arms. She would be thrilled with the painting in her cute, stilted manner, and not mind that he had used Jude to find her. He expelled a sigh of contentment. The pack didn’t need him today. He had all the time in the world to wait.
Still groggy, Marie took slow and calculated steps down the stairs. Abby must have heard the swish of the security door because she flew out of the library and stopped at the landing, a book in one hand and the other fisted on her hip.
“What is happening?” Marie asked when she reached her.
Abby hugged her enthusiastically.
Marie returned the hug and patted her back. No matter what was going on, she had this.
“You have a present and he is still here.” Abby pulled away and motioned with her book to the painting leaning against the wall.
“Go finish your vampire story. I’ll tend to him.” Marie ushered her back into the library.
“Who is he?” Abby asked.
“Nothing for you to be concerned about.”
Abby started to protest, but Marie ended the discussion by closing the library doors. She crossed the foyer and opened the front door, careful to stay behind the threshold. His heart beat fast and loud and it had woken her. Before recognizing the energy, she’d panicked. But the relief that it was Odin and not an unknown supernatural was mixed with annoyance. She didn’t want anyone coming here where Abby was.
“Hello, beautiful,” Odin said.
“Good evening.” She glanced at him, stifling a brief bubble of delight, and then behind him to see twilight race across the late sky.
“I brought you flowers.”
Her attention returned to him. “Thank you.”
“They’re your favorite. And the painting.”
She didn’t comment, and he bristled.
“The painting was expensive, ludicrously expensive. I don’t expect you to kiss my feet, but a little more appreciation would be nice.”
“I do not need you to give me anything. Do you want a check?”
“Abby wouldn’t let me in. What is she to you? Am I imagining the resemblance?”
Her stomach clenched. “She is none of your concern.”
“Is she your keeper?”
“Please leave.”
“I’m sorry. If talking about her upsets you, I won’t, but don’t ask me to leave. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and I want to pursue this.”
She tilted her head and watched him closely, trying to figure out if he was being honest.
He sighed. “Are you busy?”
“Perhaps.”
“My little ball buster, at least you’ve progressed from threats to one word answers. That’s promising.”
He straightened to his full height, unfolding his sculpted limbs, and she devoured every visible inch. Her reaction to him the other night had surprised her. She’d tried to justify it, to reason it away. She’d tried to forget him. Her hand went to her stomach to hold back the desire spinning to life by his proximity. This time she wasn’t surprised, but it didn’t change anything.
The cloak of night finished falling over the twilight sky and with full dark, she was no longer uncomfortable or hindered. She stepped forward, beyond the door and shut it behind her, blocking the entrance with her body. “What do you want, Mr. Ulfsson?”
“Mr. Ulfsson?” he asked, surprised. “Are we back to that? I wanted to see you again.”
“You have seen me. Now go.”
He approached her and brushed a tendril of hair away from her face. He bent to kiss her, but her hand went up, palm making contact with his chest. He flew backward, landing flat on his back.
“Why the fuck did you that?” he snarled.
The automatic lights switched on engulfing them in brightness. Her eyes blinked to adjust.
He took a deep, calming breath. The strain of keeping a tight check on his temper showed on his face. He took another deep gulp of air and rose to his feet. He brushed his pants off, unintentionally drawing Marie’s gaze to his muscled thighs.
“Look, get off this paranoia.”
Her eyes returned to his face, and a brow lifted. “I’m sorry. It is unfortunate that Ms. Prescott found you charming. However, you are not as charming as you t
hink you are.”
“I’m not?” He smirked. “Look, she didn’t know I was coming. Hell, I didn’t know. I made the arrangements to deliver the painting to you at the show. I knew you would seek me out again, but I couldn’t wait. I had to see you. I feel like I’ve been glamoured or enchanted.”
She shrugged.
His hands closed into fists. “Was it a good fuck then, and that’s all?” His words were edgy, his jaw tight, and she sensed his beast clamoring to break out. He took another steadying breath.
“I knew the delivery was today, so I followed it. It wasn’t a hard deduction to make. Besides, you showed up unannounced at my house. I simply repaid the favor.”
“At the gallery, you said you wanted to see me again. I went to your house and fulfilled your curiosity. Is there something more?”
“I see. My mistake.”
“I think you should leave now, Mr. Ulfsson.
“Cold bitch,” he muttered under his breath.
With a step she was in his face. “How dare you come here to insult me.”
His hand grabbed the back of her head and brought her into him. She gasped just as his mouth came down on hers. She tried to fight it but couldn’t. Overloaded with the hardness of his body and the softness of his lips, overwhelmed with the sensations exploding under her skin, she succumbed to his heat and kissed him back.
She laid her head on his chest, feeling the warmth and the frenzied beating of his heart. His heart beat for both of them. He brought his face into hers and she lifted her eyes to his.
“I want you,” he said, his voice a rough whisper and his eyes blazing with hunger.
The door flung open and Abby appeared, hands on hips in a fighting stance. “What’s going on?”
“I thought you were tough, but that one . . . she scares me.”
They separated.
“Goodnight, Mr. Ulfsson,”
“Come over later.”
“I—”
“Don’t say no. Goodnight, Ms. d’Orgemont. Goodnight, girl who wouldn’t let me in.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and disappeared into the canopy of trees.
Marie watched him go.
“I’ll never forget the look in your eyes. See you soon.” His words floated toward her like bubbles, barely more than a breath. Nor would she forget the look in his eyes. An engine growled to life on the street and she suffered his absence like the shields of glass impeding her from the sun.
Could it be possible to have family, to protect Abby, and to have a relationship with Odin? One day he might want to have little werewolf offspring and take over his pack. One day, Anton would call her to his side and she would have to drop everything. But right now, he was her sunshine and she didn’t want to give him up.
The phone rang, and Abby waved from the doorway. “John would like to take us to dinner.”
“As you wish,” Marie said, feeling a dagger of disappointment. If Abby was happy and progressing in her relationship with John, she couldn’t refuse. It was too important for both of them, but it would be too late to see Odin afterwards. She closed her eyes to a bone-searing wave of longing and regret.
“Marie?” Abby asked, concern in her voice.
Marie opened her eyes and turned.
“What is it, ma chérie?”
“Are you okay?”
Marie smiled. “I will be.”
Chapter XIII
Marie swung on the hammock as she flipped through the glossy pages of French Vogue, enjoying the night’s balmy breeze on her skin. Abby sat beneath her, on the pool’s edge, one leg curled beneath her and the other swinging in and out of the heated water. A French ballad floated from outdoor speakers, the music mingling with the soft gurgling sounds of a bubbling Jacuzzi.
Abby dog-eared a page from her book and set it down. “These vampires can go out in daylight.”
“I wish I could. What else do they do?” she asked, humoring her.
“They drink.”
Before Marie could comment, John’s voice boomed a greeting from the house.
Marie and Abby exchanged a concerned look before Abby scrambled to her feet.
“What are you doing here?” Abby asked.
John raised a hand in greeting. “I closed the office early, so we could have dinner earlier.”
“I didn’t hear the phone.”
“Your housekeeper was leaving and let me in. I heard voices and followed the trail. I hope that’s okay?”
The explanation erased Abby’s frown and she jumped into the water and swam across.
“Aren’t you joining us, Marie?” he asked.
“I have previous plans I could not change. You two have fun.”
Abby climbed out of the pool. She wore a sedate aqua tankini and a coordinating watch with a glow in the dark face almost bigger than her wrist.
He smirked.
She rose on her toes and pressed a light kiss on his cheek.
With an exaggerated sweep, he enveloped her and she fell against him.
“John, I’m wet.”
“I don’t care.” One kiss became two, then three, as he settled against her mouth.
Abby squirmed until his embrace slackened.
He settled for tugging on her wet ponytail.
“I’ll change and be right back.” She darted a quick glance at Marie.
“You forgot your book, ma chérie.” Marie threw it and Abby caught it with a snap.
“Quite an arm, babe. What are you reading?” John pulled the book out of Abby’s hands and grimaced.
“It’s romantic,” Abby said.
“Vampires are monsters. How is that romantic?”
“Don’t judge unless you’ve read it.”
“I’m sorry. I only read dentistry journals and the sports section, what do I know?”
Abby took her book back and went inside to change.
His gaze followed her as she disappeared into the house, leaving a path of drops behind her. Reluctantly, he turned away and back to Marie. “Are you sure you can’t join us?”
Marie shook her head.
Pool lights and spotlights illuminated patches around her. Although underneath the palm, she was in shadow, it was too much to hope he hadn’t noticed she was dressed to go out, not in a bathing suit like Abby, with the pool too wide to jump.
John’s forehead creased as if puzzled, and Marie’s heart sank. ‘How had she gotten to the hammock without getting wet?’ may as well have been branded across his face. He was an intelligent and perceptive man. From now on, she would have to watch herself and watch him. No more teasing Abby about vampires. If he and Abby were going to have a serious relationship, he would find out about her eventually and time, and Abby, would seal his fate. But it was too soon for the revelation.
Marie waited for them to leave before she climbed into the Bentley and followed. She couldn’t join them nor could she go see Odin. Instead, she followed them all night, watching John closely and Abby even closer.
After dropping Abby off, John went home, threw his keys on a table, and shrugged off his jacket. Horny and on edge, he paced the room before finally grabbing a beer and settling down in front of the television. He switched channels, toggling between ESPN, Sportsnet, and several movie channels, his attention reflective of his mood. He stopped channel surfing when he saw Gary Oldman on the screen. He liked Oldman, who played the honest Lieutenant Gordon in the Batman movies, but he’d forgotten Oldman also starred as Dracula. What a coincidence. He put down the remote. It had been a while since he’d seen the movie and, if Abby was obsessed with vampires, he needed a refresher.
One minute, Dracula was a monster and the next he transformed into a normal and respectable looking man. Why did women love this shit? Why did Abby
? When the credits rolled, he turned the television off and headed to bed thinking that he’d never seen Abby and Marie in daylight. He laughed at the outrageous thought. Abby and Marie weren’t vampires. They were young, wealthy, and eccentric, like the Hilton sisters, but they weren’t monsters. Hell, monsters only existed in movies and nightmares. Maybe they were succubi? Why had that popped into his mind? He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He had a complicated procedure in the morning and he needed to sleep.
He fell back onto the mattress and closed his eyes. Sleep eluded him. He couldn’t forget Marie’s pale face, almost glowing in the dark, as she swung on the hammock. Eerie. And how had she gotten to the hammock? She had been dry, fully dressed in some sort of pantsuit and her typical high-heels. Maybe there had been a plank he hadn’t seen? That had to be it. She was strange enough to get a thrill from walking over water. People that rich were corrupted by money. Abby wasn’t like Marie. She was sweet and sexy and his. He thought of the wet bikini top molded to her breasts. He pulled on his penis and groaned, thinking about everything he wanted to do to her when he finally got her alone.
A long two days later, Odin opened the door to find Marie standing there.
“Hello, beautiful. I was expecting you.”
She walked into the apartment, hoping the butterflies in her stomach didn’t reflect on her face.
He closed the door and whipped around to face her. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”
She glanced around the room to make sure they were alone. “You are being presumptuous.”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
She was. Her cheeks tickled with embarrassment.
He leaned down until he was at eye level with her. “Is that a smile I see peeking out of that beautiful mouth?”
“You are incorrigible.”
“And charming.” He covered her mouth with his and she forgot to be reserved, kissing him back with abandon: paring, tasting, and absorbing his heat with her tongue.
