Bitten By The Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Vampire Romance

by Jasmine White

  Next, she was off to have her pre-employment drug and health test, which was also all done on site. Sharla accompanied her to that too, standing in the corner with her arms crossed and her toe tapping in impatience. The nurse want as far as to take a hair and cheek swab sample. When the nurse pulled out a needle to draw blood, Sharla excused herself. It was the first time that she had been without her since she picked her up.

  “Think she’s squeamish about blood?” Chloe asked.

  “Something like that,” the nurse said with a smile. She tapped her arm, looking for a vein, and apparently found it. The prick of the needle was lightning-quick.

  “You’re good,” Chloe said. “You know, when I go to my doctor’s office they can never find a vein on me.”

  “It’s a skill,” the woman said. “Some people just don’t have it.”

  She was instructed to go out into the hallway when they were done with her, and sure enough, Sharla was waiting for her. Chloe felt the woman’s eyes on her bandaged arm, but then she looked away.

  “For your badge, they take fingerprints and do a biometric scan. Depending on where you’re going in the building there are different levels of security, and you will probably need to get into most places since you work for Michael. You’ll get used to figuring out if you just need a code or can scan your card directly. If you need a code for a particular door, my department deals with that, and one of my staff can help you.”

  “Okay,” Chloe said. “That does seem like a bit much.”

  “If you had any idea about the research and development we do on site, and the kinds of things we handle, you wouldn’t think that.”

  Sharla shot her a death glare as she swiped them into another set of double doors. The hallway ended with a keypad beside the door, and Sharla entered a code without even looking. The metal doors slid open and Chloe felt a whoosh of cold air as they walked in. This level was part of the department that handled security, Sharla’s people.

  A man standing at something that looked more like a lectern than a desk greeted them, and they proceeded down another hallway and into a brightly lit room where a grim-looking man took her photo. On a table were ink and a template for her fingers to be rolled across. Chloe thought that she understood how criminals must feel. She was given something to clean her hands with. The biometric scan was, well, interesting was the only way that Chloe could describe it. She placed her hand against what seemed like a glass plate, and the machine lit up beneath her skin, much like pressing her hand against the glass plate of a copy machine. The badge was made and handed to her within a few minutes. The picture wasn’t her worst photo, but certainly not her best either. She could see the reflection of the camera flash in her pupils, and her lips were parted slightly, as if she would scream if she had the chance. You’d swear she was standing in the path of an oncoming semi.

  Chloe wouldn’t remember what exactly she said about her picture, only that it was snarky enough to illicit laughter from Sharla.

  “No one likes how those pictures come out,” she said. “I’ve never heard anyone put self-hatred so poetically though.”

  She appreciates hatred, Chloe thought. There was literally nowhere positive that she could take that.

  Another series of doors, hallways, keypads and codes, and they were finally inside an elevator taking them up. To where, Chloe couldn’t be sure, but she had an idea, and it made her stomach twist into knots.

  When the elevator doors slipped open, they were greeted by Michael Andreas. Only, this was not Michael as she was used to seeing him. Only hours before, he’d been dressed in a suit and tie, his hair perfectly coifed. The man standing in front of her was wearing black workout pants. And that was all. His naked chest was tanned and he was ripped. She’d known he was fit under that suit, but he was even more so than she imagined. She actually counted his abs, because she was sure he had a couple more than he needed for a six pack.

  “Um,” Sharla said. “I thought you’d be ready for us by now, Michael,” Sharla said. Though Chloe wasn’t positive, she was pretty sure that Sharla had been staring just as hard as she was, which explained why she hadn’t quite found her voice either. The women stepped off the elevator, and Michael backed up. “I was ready, but it took so long, I decided to get some time on the treadmill in. I never have time to waste, you know,” he said with a wide grin.

  “Yes, well I don’t either,” Sharla snipped. “Unless you have something else that you need me for?”

  “I’m fine, Sharla.”

  “Chloe?” she asked. It was an odd moment. The woman couldn’t stand being near her for the last hour or so, and now she seemed reluctant to leave. What was even stranger was that Chloe felt the need to comfort her somehow. “I will be fine, Sharla, thanks so much for taking me around today.”

  “Have a good day,” she said coolly. Her eyes were fixed on Michael as the elevator doors closed.

  Chloe looked around the sparsely furnished room. One wall was a bank of windows that looked out onto the city. There was a fireplace, surrounded by white couches. She didn’t see a desk or anything that made the room look remotely like an office.

  Seeming to know what she was about to ask, he smiled. “I am such a bad host. This is my penthouse. We met earlier in my office on the next floor down. Come in, have a seat,” he said. “I’ll go get dressed in something more appropriate.”

  He disappeared into another room, and Chloe heard the running of water.

  Oh my God, Chloe thought. He’s taking a shower!

  She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs. She pulled out her phone and pretended to look through Instagram while she tried not to think of her naked boss a couple of rooms away, only separated from her by a door and a few walls, naked and probably slathering soap all over his body. And damn if his body wasn’t made of stuff that would make a Greek goddess cry. Just what the hell did he mean by waiting until she got up here to do that? Why had he been exercising half-naked when he knew very well that she was on her way up?

  It made her wonder if this was the reason why Sharla said he went through assistants like tissue. She’d taken that as a personal affront, but maybe it hadn’t been. Who knows? Maybe his lawyer (and security chief too, it seemed) knew him well enough to smell a set up? Maybe this guy had a little problem with women. That could be why she didn’t want to leave her alone with him.

  Chloe began to sweat. If need be, she wasn’t sure she could leave this penthouse. Was a code needed to get out? She wasn’t sure but wouldn’t be surprised. She walked over to the elevator and tried it. Relief swept over her when the doors opened when she pressed the button.

  Sighing, she went back to the couch and sat down. At least she could get out if escape became necessary. If he came out of the room buck naked or tried anything untoward, she was going to kick his ass. No job was important enough to put up with that bullshit. And then, within a couple minutes, Michael emerged. He was dressed but in casual fare: khakis and a crisp white shirt. He smiled. His hair was still slightly wet, but not dripping.

  Those blue eyes of his fixed on hers, and she felt transfixed, as if she might do anything that he asked of her at that moment. A sense of calm flowed over her. She even felt the slowing of her heart. Chloe knew that she had been anxious and upset just a few seconds before, but that emotion slipped away from her like water flowing from her fingertips.

  He smelled like soap and aftershave. And his beauty made him seem harmless. Well, he couldn’t hurt a fly, could he? Unless one considered ways that she might actually like to get hurt. If things ever went there….

  What the hell? How had she even gotten on this train of thought?

  Michael blushed, which made his tan skin look splotchy in spots. In a way, Chloe found it oddly adorable. But it also made her think something was not altogether right with his circulation or… something. He blinked, pausing before he spoke.

  “I hope you’re not put off by the way things are done around here, but all I can really tell is
that we’re not really your regular office. There’s always a push to get things done, and there never seems to be enough hours for the pursuit of all our tasks. So, are you ready to go?”

  “Go where?” Chloe asked.

  “A field trip,” Michael replied. “I want to show you how we reinvest some of our profits.”

  *

  They left the building flanked by security guards in black. Michael drove his own car (a custom-made black sedan fitted with bullet proof glass, he boasted). “I want this to be a bit of a surprise,” he told her. “Be prepared to take some notes. You’ll need to know about this later, and there’s a lot to learn.”

  Michael drove to the east end of town, where businesses and skyscrapers competed with high-priced, urban dwellings. When she saw the monolith of county hospital over the horizon, she suspected that this was where he wanted to take her. He didn’t say anything about it until they had descended into one of the parking structures across from the medical center.

  “I wanted you to see firsthand some of the work that we’re doing for the hospital. We were able to make hefty donations to them, and Dreas Pharmaceuticals have contractors here both restructuring some of the older floors and adding on a new wing to the hospital. In all the project will take years, because of all the regulatory hoops that the government institutes anytime you’re dealing with hospital facilities. We’re going to be opening some of the wings in parts. The earliest to open will be the new pediatric wing, which will be ready next March,” he paused long enough to give her a pearly grin.

  “You’re very proud,” Chloe commented.

  “Indeed,” he said.

  Just as they were about to board the elevator, Chloe became aware of the black-clothed guards. She hadn’t seen their car once they got into traffic, but apparently they followed close behind, because here they were again, invading the parking garage like a silent swarm of insects. Michael ignored them. She couldn’t help but frown as three of the men crowded around them.

  They went out onto the second floor, and as Michael suggested, she used the notepad on her cell phone to take notes. He wanted her to memorize which parts on which floor of the hospital were under construction using Dreas funds, and there were a lot of them. The projected date to be finished with everything was 2023. County Hospital would basically be an entirely new entity, rebuilt over the skeleton of the old, without disturbing the working units that were in place.

  He gave her stats with the exact number of personnel for each unit, patient beds in the old units versus the new, and information about different lines of products that Dreas supplied. They not only did research and development for drugs, but were responsible for much of the innovations in medical equipment currently being used on the market.

  “Not the sexier part of the business, but profitable anyway,” Michael explained. You’ll learn about all our different product lines, and which areas our business is the strongest. County Hospital is a good microcosm of everything we’d eventually like to do on a much wider scale. The plan is to be the provider of choice for just about anything and everything used within a medical setting.” By the time they were finished with their tour, which took three hours, it was getting dark outside.

  “We should go to dinner,” Michael said simply. It was neither a question nor a demand, but a statement. “Don’t worry, this is all considered part of your working day, and of course everything is on me.”

  ***

  Once they were in Michael’s car, Chloe had to shake herself. She felt like she had dozed off and just woke up. The last thing she remembered was her boss’ announcement about dinner. But she didn’t remember leaving the hospital, had no recollection of going down to the parking structure or his car pulling out of it.

  “Oh,” she sighed, massaging her temple.

  “Something wrong?” Michael asked. There was concern in his blue eyes.

  “Just a little bit of a headache,” Chloe said. “I have some pain reliever, maybe I’ll take a couple of those.” She reached for her purse.

  “You don’t need that,” he said lightly.

  “The pharmaceutical king is asking me not to take the mildest of drugs?”

  He laughed at that, and the sound was low and musical.

  By the time they reached the restaurant her pain was gone, and she decided that maybe she had a hungry headache, eased by the realization that relief was in sight. It was late and she was hungry after all, and she tended to have more of an appetite when she was nervous. Being around Michael all day was certainly an impetus for anxiety. As much as she had reason to be uncomfortable around him, she also felt an odd, creeping sort of ease.

  Just as she was feeling relaxed within that space, she reminded herself that he was her new boss. And then she would look at him and try to remember that she was not supposed to be attracted to this person, thinking about his golden skin and his abs and the way his naked chest and arms looked. Round and round she fought with her unease and the creeping sense of apathy that kept returning; it felt like something alien pressing in against her temples.

  Chapter Five

  The restaurant specialized in sushi and teriyaki. The lights were very low, with a single cube-shaped candle in a glass holder at each table. As they took their seats in a booth near the back, Chloe was aware of his eyes fastened on her. There was a sparkle in them, and she thought that his eyes were the clearest, deepest blue she remembered seeing in a long time. The waiter provided a momentary distraction which she was grateful for. Apparently this was one of his favorite places to eat, because he was familiar with all the menu without having to look.

  He ordered a couple of appetizers without asking her opinion, and then said with a smile that he wasn’t making the decision for her, but always had both of these whenever he came. She stuck to safe choices for her entrees: salmon teriyaki and shrimp tempura with fried rice. Jasmine tea was just sweet enough to tease her taste buds and help quench her thirst, which she assumed had more to do with nervousness than dehydration.

  “What do you think of our objectives?” Michael asked.

  Chloe was a little stunned that he was back to talking about work. This was supposed to be a working dinner, wasn’t it? But she felt jolted by the shift in conversation. This wasn’t supposed to be a date, but he wasn’t looking at her in way that she would think a boss would look at a new employee, someone he didn’t know and hadn’t yet worked for him or produced any results in any measurable capacity. And she wasn’t sure why her opinion about company goals and future projects should matter either, unless it was some sort of test.

  “Very ambitious,” she said carefully. “The company has accomplished great things already, I’m sure you have the wherewithal to get the rest of your goals done. It’s just a matter of time, as you were saying at the hospital.”

  “That’s one thing I have plenty of,” he said quietly.

  The food was very good, and again there was a little pause in conversation while they both enjoyed their meal. Michael’s eyes rarely strayed from her, and the intensity was a little off putting. She wondered if he paid every woman this kind of attention. Her headache had receded but she felt a kind of hollowness, as if the pain might come back any minute.

  “Tell me about you,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “I need to know who you are.”

  Chloe looked up, and blinked. Maybe the candlelight was playing tricks with her vision. She could have sworn that Michael’s eyes were glowing. The creeping, alien feeling inside her slithered along the back of her neck crawled and settled along the base of her head and at her temples.

  “What would you like to know?” she asked him.

  His answer was simple. “Everything.”

  Chloe started to talk, but she couldn’t even be sure what she was saying to him, only that the words came tumbling out as if she had absolutely no control over them. She told him her favorite flavor of ice cream: death by chocolate. What else she said to him, she didn’t know, but when she came to herse
lf again, she was aware of the passage of time. She took a sip of her tea, and found that it had gone cold.

  “I’ll have them bring you another pot of tea,” Michael said. She felt like she’d been talking non-stop. Her throat was sandpaper sore. “Sure,” she said with a nod.

  He talked about things that he liked to do outside of work. He practiced martial arts. It helped him learn how to focus, he explained. That became especially important in the beginning of his career, when he was first learning about biochemistry and science. He had an interest in things spiritual as well, mostly magic.

  Chloe asked if he practiced Wicca.

  “My belief system is far older than that,” he said. “And darker. Wicca is about the harvesting the power of spirit that exists all around us. What I believe in has to do with blood magic.”

  “Blood?” Chloe’s brow wrinkled at this unpleasant reference.

  “Yes,” he said. There was a reverence, a tenderness that she didn’t understand. “Our blood is everything. It carries our genetic code, the building blocks of life. Our heritage, absolutely everything that all of our ancestors were before us. Do you know that it even carries their memories? Phobias cradled deeply within our psyches come from the fears that our progenitors before us had. That’s one bit of knowledge that has only been explained recently through science, but many very ancient traditions have an understanding of that. Blood holds our destruction and our redemption. Science has only begun to touch upon all the things that it is, the great power that it carries.”

  “Like your research into red and white blood cells?” Chloe offered. She was far more comfortable with a discussion about science than whatever these… beliefs were that he was talking about. As a matter of fact, she wasn’t sure that she was comfortable at all. Something about the way he looked at her made her heart skip a beat. The combination of his attentive eyes and this line of conversation were unsettling.