by Kathy Love
Now, Maksim was never one to waste time on futile ventures. He liked challenges, yes. But he wasn’t wasting time chasing someone who didn’t want to get caught.
Okay, this was in fact the first time he could recall meeting someone who didn’t want to get caught, but still he didn’t believe in working too hard. After all, there was always something, if not better, then just as good coming around the corner. And this was plainly one of those moments.
He smiled at the blonde, who practically glowed back at him, thrilled with his attention.
“I’m getting off work around two. Why? What do you have in mind?”
The blonde giggled. “Well, I can think of a few things.”
His smile broadened. “I can, too.” Then he extended his hand. “I’m Maksim.”
She slipped her fingers into his. “Jenna.”
See, he could forget about dark-eyed, dark-haired mortals just as easily as that.
But even as he told himself that, his gaze returned to the doorway that Jo had walked out.
“When did that guy start working here?”
Erika frowned at Jo, then glanced around the street where they stood with the band. “What guy?”
“The bartender.” Jo remembered his name, but she couldn’t even bring herself to say it. For some reason, she felt as if remembering his name would show too much…
Well, just too much.
Erika still frowned.
“I think she means Maksim,” Vittorio supplied even though Jo didn’t realize he’d been listening.
“Oh,” Erika said, her tone not exactly negative, but not exactly amiable, either. “He’s been working here for…” She glanced at Vittorio for an answer.
“A couple months,” he said. “Right after we got married, he started here.”
Jo nodded. She remembered him at Erika and Vittorio’s wedding. He’d looked stunningly handsome in his expensive, designer suit. He’d just screamed money, power, and sex appeal. He still did—even slinging beers.
“I wouldn’t have pegged him as being a bartender for a living,” Jo said. “He seems too…” She couldn’t find that right word.
“High and mighty,” Maggie suggested.
“Yes,” Jo agreed. “That’s it exactly.”
“Oh, he’s definitely not from around here,” Ren said with a enigmatic smile, making Jo realize that everyone was aware of the topic of conversation.
Jo didn’t quite know what Ren meant by his statement or how it tied in to the man’s demeanor. And his accent stated he wasn’t from Louisiana—or even the U.S. She’d been more focused on the fact that he seemed like the type who was waited on—not doing the waiting.
She could easily picture him in one of those ritzy nightclubs, the ones with dress codes and guest lists. Five-star restaurants and yachts with sexy women in bikinis. She certainly didn’t see him working behind a bar in the French Quarter.
So what was he doing here, then?
“Are you interested in him?” Maggie said after everyone had moved on to the subject of whether Drake’s guitar solo in Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me” was too long.
Jo blinked. “Interested in him? Hardly.”
Maggie nodded, seeming to readily accept her words, then she added, “He’s interested in you.”
Jo shook her head. “No, he isn’t.”
“Trust me, he is.” Maggie stated, and Jo couldn’t decide how her friend felt about the observation.
But then, she wasn’t sure what her feelings were, either. Jo wasn’t completely oblivious. She noticed the way the man watched her. She’d noticed it the past times she met him, too. But at the time she’d been too involved in her own issues to give it any thought. And frankly she didn’t have time to think about it now, either.
Plus, Maksim—and at least she didn’t have to pretend she didn’t know his last name because she didn’t—wasn’t the type of man she found attractive.
Okay, that wasn’t strictly true. Maksim Whatever-His-Name-Is was the type of man all woman found attractive. Truthfully, he was probably the most stunningly beautiful man she’d ever seen. Well, one of the most beautiful.
For a moment, her mind returned to her own problems and the mess she left behind in D.C. But you didn’t leave it all behind, did you?
She shoved those thoughts aside and glanced in the doorway, catching a glimpse of Maksim serving a large, fruity-looking drink to a curvaceous blonde.
So sure, she’d noticed Maksim. He was hard to miss with his unusually pale green eyes that reminded her of peridots. His sexy smile that turned up just slightly at one corner. And his body, tall and lean with broad shoulders and—
All right, she sighed, closing her eyes just briefly, trying to block out the image of him. So she’d noticed him. He was a gorgeous man. But she also knew his type. Along with all that masculine beauty, she knew he had an ego the size of St. Louis Cathedral, and she had no use for that. Absolutely no use.
And in the end, he’d have no use for her, either. She’d learned that firsthand. Again, she told herself not to think about it. She had other things to focus on. Like work and friends and starting a new life. Starting a new life…
A wave of nausea, sudden and intense, hit her, and she looked around, panicked, deciding if she should rush to the restroom.
Calm down. Calm down. She swallowed several times and the feeling gradually subsided.
Erika appeared at her side. “The guys are going back in for one more set.” She studied Jo. “Are you okay?”
Jo nodded, not quite sure she was ready to speak. She swallowed again, then pulled in a slow, deep breath.
“I’m fine.” She forced a closed-mouth smile.
Erika still watched her, her finely arched brows drawn together with concern.
“Are you sure you want to stay?” she asked.
Jo nodded. “Sure.” She wasn’t ready to be alone with her thoughts at the moment. She’d long ago realized that keeping busy was the best way to avoid things she didn’t want to think about. Busy was good.
“Okay,” Erika said, her voice uncertain. She glanced at Maggie again. Another knowing look shot between them. This time it irritated Jo.
“I’m fine,” she repeated, more firmly, and her friends didn’t say anything. They just followed her back into the dark bar.
A group of partiers boogied on the dance floor. The air was hazy and seemed to glow, smoke lit by neon beer signs. Jo ignored the overwhelming scent of cigarettes mingling with stale beer and headed toward the back of the bar to an empty round high-top table. It was a little quieter away from the stage. And she couldn’t easily see Maksim from this angle. Noticing his eyes and body and smile wasn’t doing her any good.
Men were not a part of her future. She was done.
“So tell me more about the community center,” Maggie said, and Erika leaned forward to hear over the band, who’d started again.
“Well, the center is woefully understaffed,” Jo said, gladly grasping onto the topic of work. “After Katrina, a lot of the employees and volunteers just didn’t return. The building isn’t in great condition, either, but at least it didn’t suffer any major damage. But even with the lack of staff and facilities, there are more kids there than ever.
“And the kids are great. Well, mostly great. There are a few troubled ones, which, given the area, is to be expected. But they are the kids who need this place the most.”
“So will you start looking for staff as soon as you can?” Erika asked.
Jo nodded. “Volunteers, mainly. We just don’t have the money to take on full-time employees. Yet. I’ve been looking into our funding options, what grants I can apply for. Once we know about that, I can start hiring. But my first order of business is coming up with volunteers to help out the kids in our daycare and aftercare programs. We have a lot of kids whose parents can’t afford a lot for daycare. And I need to make them the priority at the moment.”
Maggie smiled. “I think that’s great. And the work se
ems like something you will love.”
Jo nodded. She did love it. She needed to have that sense of helping others. And she loved working with kids. Seeing kids overcome and flourish even against such unfortunate odds. Nothing felt better.
For a moment her mind wandered again, straying to things she didn’t want to deal with.
“Yep,” Jo said, straightening in her seat, shaking off the sudden sweep of sorrow that filled her. “So St. Ann Community Center will be back on its feet in no time, as long as I can find some volunteers to help me.”
“Can I get you ladies some drinks?” said a voice, deep and velvety and tinged with an exotic-sounding accent, from right beside her. Jo started, clapping a hand to her chest.
“Sorry,” he said, smiling at her reaction as if it pleased him in some way.
Jo felt irritation rise in her chest, replacing the rapid beat of her heart. He probably thought she was affected by his sudden nearness. Because of some sort of uncontrollable desire, rather than genuine surprise.
She stared at him, trying to ignore the scent of him that managed to blot out the other smells of the bar. Something spicy, like burning incense, earthy and very arousing.
She immediately pushed back her stool and stood, making sure her vacated seat was between them.
“Nothing for me,” she managed, then turned to her friends. “I have to run to the restroom.”
She didn’t look back or wait for her friends’ reply as she hurried toward the back of the room and the door labeled LADIES.
Once inside, she leaned against the graffiti-scribbled wall, offering messages of “love 4 eva” and “for a good time call” and “New Orleans rocks!” She didn’t pay any attention to the plethora of yearbook-like captions, and instead focused on trying to get her wayward body under control.
She was not attracted to that guy. She wasn’t. He wasn’t her type and while he might be handsome and sexy and even smelled like sex—really good sex—she wasn’t going there. There was just no way in hell. Her life was already too complicated without another self-important, insincere and too-good-looking-for-his-own-good male in it.
And what was she doing thinking about men, period? Hadn’t she sworn off them? Hadn’t she just left D.C. because of a relationship that went horribly wrong?
She let her head fall back against the marker-and pen-scrawled wall. A wave of nausea hit her and she swallowed several times. Anger and disgust also threaten to gag her.
How could she even be attracted to anyone? Not when her life was in complete upheaval, and she was running away from her past. And her lover, who had somehow managed not to mention—and she’d managed not to notice—that he was married.
CHAPTER 2
Maksim glanced to where Jo had disappeared into the restroom, for the first time feeling just a tad hopeful that she did in fact feel something for him. He couldn’t quite decipher what, but she had reacted, and he was taking that as a good sign.
Damn, when had he ever been the type to settle for any old reaction from a woman? He was used to adoration. Attraction. Full-blown carnal lust. Not a reaction that could range anywhere between tepid interest to overwhelming disgust.
Disgust? Over him? That seemed unlikely. But he wasn’t sure. How irritating.
Instead of analyzing her reaction any further, he turned his attention to her friends, taking this moment to discover a bit more about the mortal who’d somehow become an odd fixation to him. A fixation that was increasing by the minute.
Did he mention he wanted to lick every inch of that woman?
“So did I just hear that your friend is working down here?” He kept the comment casual as he used a rag to wipe down the table. “Didn’t she live somewhere else? Somewhere on the East Coast?”
“Yes, she just moved down here from D.C. about a month ago,” Maggie said.
He noted that Erika frowned at her friend. Oh yeah, Erika wasn’t going to give him any information. Which meant, go little Pollyanna vampire, go.
He smiled widely at Maggie, pouring on the charm. “So she’s living here? Working here?”
Maggie nodded, completely oblivious to Erika’s disapproving look. “Yes, she’s the new director at the community center on Esplanade.”
“That’s great,” he said with a smile designed to reveal nothing.
“I don’t suppose you’d know anyone who’d be willing to volunteer there?” Maggie said, only to be cut off by a sharp shush from Erika.
Maggie frowned at her friend, confusion clear in her eyes.
“Volunteers,” Maksim said slowly, his smile widening. Oh, he’d be willing to volunteer for a thing or two with sexy Miss Jo as his director.
Instead he shrugged. “Not right off the top of my head, but I’ll think about it.”
Maggie smiled. Erika frowned—even more if that was possible.
“So more drinks?”
Both women declined, which gave him no real purpose to hang around. Even though he would have liked to ask more about Jo, he didn’t want to be too obvious. He excused himself and headed back to his prison behind the bar. Although tonight, it didn’t seem quite so bad. Amazing what a new project could do for his outlook.
“What were you thinking?” Erika asked as soon as Maksim stepped back behind the bar.
Maggie blinked at her friend, confused by her question, but more so by the terseness of her tone.
“What?”
“Do you really think he’s the kind of guy we should be asking about volunteers? Who would he know aside from other demons? Are you trying to get some minions from Hell to help Jo with her daycare?”
Maggie grimaced, seeing her point. “I didn’t really think about that. With all the paranormal folks in this city, I sometimes forget the people around us aren’t—well, really people.”
Erika nodded. “I sometimes forget that about ourselves,” then added, “But we shouldn’t be giving him any info about her. He’s very interested in Jo; it’s in the air like cheap, really stinky cologne.” Erika glanced at him. “It’s like he’s scenting, staking claim on her.”
“Maybe he is.” Maggie followed Erika’s gaze, watching Maksim take a drink order from a buxom brunette in a dress that barely covered her equally rounded derriere. Then she added, “That was a stupid move. Sorry.”
They were silent for a moment.
Then Erika said, “Do you think she even knows?”
“About us?” Maggie asked, not needing any clarification on who «she» was.
“No, about herself?”
“Oh. I’m not sure,” Maggie said, then considered Jo and her situation. A very surprising situation to say the least. “But I don’t think we can bring it up. We need to wait for her to do that.”
Erika nodded.
Maggie sighed. “I really shouldn’t have said anything to Maksim. I just figured given he had more access to daywalkers than we do, he might know someone. I know he’s a dem—” Maggie’s mouth snapped shut as she noticed Jo standing behind Erika. Erika must have seen the direction of Maggie’s gaze, because she turned to glance over her shoulder.
“Hi,” Jo said, not hiding her curiosity over the subject. “Who are we talking about?”
Jo waited for her friends to explain, finding the small bit she’d overheard quite—peculiar—to say the least.
“We’re talking about Maksim,” Erika stated. “Maggie told him that you were looking for volunteers at the center, and I just didn’t think that was a good idea. I don’t trust him, Jo.”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Maggie said, although she didn’t sound defensive, just contrite. As if she agreed that perhaps he wasn’t terribly trustworthy.
Jo sat back down and gave her friends a comforting smile. “I don’t think you have to worry about sharing that info with him. He doesn’t strike me as the Good Samaritan type anyway.”
He didn’t strike her as the good anything. She fought the urge to look in his direction. Except maybe good in bed, and she knew where that t
ype of guy got a gal.
“That’s true,” Erika agreed, and Maggie nodded.
They all fell quiet as the Impalers started another song, “I Want You To Want Me.”
“So is that what you call us boring people with normal day jobs?” Jo asked suddenly over the chorus.
“Huh?” Maggie asked, and Erika raised an eyebrow in question.
“Daywalkers? Is that musician lingo for us boring people with nine-to-five jobs and regular sleep hours?” Jo said.
“Oh.” Maggie laughed. “Yeah. That’s just a private joke among the band members.”
Jo nodded, then said after a few moments, “And you started to say that Maksim was a deem…A deem what?”
“Oh,” Maggie said, looking decidedly awkward. She glanced over to Erika.
Again with the shared looks, although this time, it almost looked as if they were silently discussing their answer.
“He’s a de—de—” Maggie gave Erika another pained look.
“A demon,” Erika announced. “You know, with the women.” She winced when she was done.
Jo glanced back to the bar, where Maksim stood, hands braced on the countertop, watching her. She wondered why her friends seemed so reluctant to say that.
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me. I have no doubt.”
“Girl, this is cracked. Totally cracked.”
Jo finished entering in the last numbers into the community center’s expense database. Then she blinked trying to focus on her daycare director, but impressions of small rows of numbers scrolling down her computer screen still blurred her vision. Even after several more blinks, she still couldn’t see what her daycare director was talking about.
“What’s broken now, Cherise?”
The woman placed a hand on her ample hip and rolled her dark eyes at Jo. “Nothing’s broken! Except this whole teacher situation. Which is cracked!”
Jo sighed, realizing now what had Cherise all worked up. Cherise was the only full-time employee she had, and she was a darned good one, with the energy and patience of three women, but she wasn’t three women, and she needed help.
