“No, that’s all right. They’re not that heavy.” He looked strong enough to carry her and the bags. His jacket couldn’t hide the muscles in his chest and arms.
“I’ll see you at dinner then.”
After he left, Joelle leaned against the door and clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream of delight and excitement. This was going to be the best vacation of her entire life.
Chapter Two
Cristian Neville glanced across the office at Zachary Neville, the man with whom he’d shared the accounting end of the business for the past nine years. Sixteen years earlier, Zach had taken over the personnel duties as well, and consequently he always had his nose buried in a spreadsheet or a stack of time cards.
“It’s going to snow this weekend,” said Cristian, leaning back in his chair and turning toward the window. He loved this office because it overlooked Pine Lake, the largest of the three lakes on the property. Cristian thought it was also the prettiest of the three, and secretly hoped their plans to build a second set of horseback riding trails around it fell through.
They’d had a lot of opposition recently from Chicago politicians who were becoming too curious about the resort, so the owners had been thinking of abandoning the project. Drawing too much attention to this place from the wrong people was not good for business.
“Did you hear me, Zach? It’s going to snow.”
“I heard you.” Zach didn’t look up from his work. “What I’m wondering is why you think I give a shit?”
“I thought you loved winter?”
“I do. But it comes every year without fail, so it’s not like I’m worried I’ll miss it.”
Cristian chuckled. “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today. Or, is the real problem that you slept in someone else’s bed last night and wish you were still there?” Zach had become such a recluse over the past decade that, on the rare occasions when he did seduce a guest, the other owners teased him mercilessly about it.
“Not that I need to tell you this, but Ginny checked out yesterday afternoon.”
“Oh, so now it’s Ginny instead of Virginia?”
“I have work to do, Cristian.”
“You’re pathetic. A disgrace to our kind.”
Zach finally looked up to give Cristian a droll look. “Why? Because I don’t hop into the sack with every woman who walks through the front doors?”
“For starters, yes.”
“I’m bored.”
“Bored with sex?”
“Bored with the whole thing, Cristian. Let me get back to work.”
Cristian’s former office mate, Hugh Fallon, had been bad enough with his constant smoking indoors, which they’d all asked him not to do, and his perpetual foul mood, but at least he’d taken pride in seducing as many guests as possible. Until Caleigh had come along, that is. Hugh had fallen like a rock the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Zach, on the other hand, lived like a hermit, no matter how many pretty girls he met. “So, what are you going to do?”
“Work.”
“I mean about sex. What are you going to do? Turn celibate? Choose a mortal life like Leo, Andras, Hugh, and Sterling have done?”
Zach looked up again, a thoughtful look on his face. “Would it be so terrible to choose a mortal life?”
“Yes, of course it would be. Look at them. Leo and Andras are old now and stuck with one woman for the rest of their lives.”
Zach’s blue eyes grew dark. “I hardly think being in your late forties is old, and they certainly aren’t complaining about being with Blair. Don’t let them hear you talk that way about her.”
“She’s still a looker, but I prefer redheads.”
“Well then, maybe we should offer a special discount? Redheads get fifty percent off the rate. What do you think?”
“Don’t be such a square. You know what I mean.”
“I know there’s a lot of work to be done, and you aren’t pulling your weight.”
Cristian sighed and rose, stretching. “I’m going to get some dinner. Later, alligator.”
Zach didn’t answer. Cristian closed the door behind him and wandered into the lobby. The newscasters on the radio had predicted snow, but right now it was crisp and clear outside, with only wisps of puffy clouds dotting the gold-and-purple horizon. He loved this time of year, when everything hunkered down for the long winter. The air smelled clean, the days were cool, and he loved the oranges and reds of the leaves.
He’d once heard a guest talking about jumping into a pile of raked leaves as a child and had asked her to describe what it was like. She’d laughed and given him an odd look. Cristian was always slipping up like that, asking the mortals to describe activities that were so much a part of their daily lives, they found it strange that he didn’t know the answer.
It was exhausting pretending to be human, with the same collective memories and sense of camaraderie they all shared. Every decade they’d been imprisoned on Earth had brought with it unique challenges, changing attitudes, and new advances the owners had to learn and understand. Cristian found it nearly impossible to keep up.
But underneath it all, dolls were still dolls and always had been. They smelled like heaven, their bodies excited him, and he never grew tired of seeing that look in their eyes—the softening just before they surrendered to him in bed.
How four of them could have chosen to live mortal lives was beyond him. And even worse was the condition placed on their punishment. To lose their Nephilim status and become mortal, they had to share one woman among two of them, or the curse placed on the twelve of them in 1919, thirty-three years earlier, wouldn’t be broken.
It was now obvious to all the owners that the curse placed on them for their sins could indeed be broken. First Leo and Andras had proven it with Blair, and nine years ago Hugh and Sterling proved it once again when Caleigh chose to stay here with them. They all seemed blissfully happy, but Cristian didn’t want any part of it. He was having too much fun to make love to one woman for the rest of his life. To have to share her on top of that with one of the other owners was not something he would ever be willing to do.
The smell of roast beef and asparagus assaulted his senses, and he wandered into the dining room. As Nephilim they didn’t need to eat or drink in order to stay alive, but all of them took advantage of the fact that they could enjoy food and booze as much as they wanted to.
As he glanced around the room, he caught the eye of a stacked blonde with whom he’d had a raunchy make-out session in the stables last week. The gleam in her eye turned hopeful as his gaze lingered, but a flash of red distracted him, and he moved his gaze away from the blonde’s bright smile.
Cristian stared at the redhead sitting by the windows looking over a menu. The color of her hair reminded him of the maples out front, blazing with fire. She had it styled into a soft bob that framed her face, and one stray curl fell over her left cheek. Cristian was seized with a sudden urge to move that lock of hair aside and kiss her porcelain skin.
As if she sensed him staring at her, she lifted her gaze, and he nearly gasped. Her eyes were the color of emeralds, clear and intelligent. His dick grew rock hard. His shoes were rooted to the spot. He wanted to cross the room and join her, but he couldn’t seem to move.
“Cristian.” Blade’s voice, booming suddenly from behind him, startled him. “How’s it going tonight?”
Blade clapped him on the back then moved past him. When the redhead saw Blade, she smiled brightly. Hellfire. How had he missed this gorgeous girl, and why was she having dinner with Blade?
* * * *
As Blade crossed the room toward where Joelle sat, he ignored the lustful looks several women gave him. Tonight he only had eyes for one girl. His dick had been painfully hard since leaving her in her suite, and he’d nearly gone back as soon as she shut the door behind him. She’d been that ready—he knew it. He could always tell when they were.
The guests came here knowing exactly what to expect. He’d been in
trigued when she told him she read about this place in a magazine. It had to be a piece in a nudie mag since they didn’t advertise, and the current journalistic culture would never print an article in a mainstream magazine about an exclusive club that offered their unique services.
“I’m glad you didn’t stand me up,” said Blade, pulling his chair around so he could straddle it backward. The scent of White Shoulders drifted toward him. Nice. He loved the smell of fine perfume on a beautiful woman. She’d changed her dress to something more suitable for evening, but Blade was more interested in what she looked like without her clothes. That fiery red hair would look stunning against the gold pillowcases on her bed.
She gave him a sly smile over the top of the menu. “I don’t believe I’ve ever stood anyone up.”
Oh, she was a firecracker—no doubt about it. Blade practically squirmed in his seat.
“What do you recommend?” she asked, laying aside the menu.
“A drink, for starters. You look parched.”
Blade turned around to signal a waiter and frowned when he spotted Cristian sauntering toward the table. He’d assumed Cristian would sit at one of the other tables where plenty of women hungry for more than the gourmet food waited, but he was making a beeline for them instead.
Blade finally caught a waiter’s eye and motioned him over. “What’ll you have?” he asked Joelle.
“Rum and Coke.”
“Bring me a bottle of Jim Beam,” said Blade.
“A whole bottle?” Cristian pulled out a chair and sat across from Blade, uncomfortably close to Joelle. “Planning on getting drunk?” He glanced at the waiter. “Rum and Coke, no ice.”
“That’s my drink, too,” said Joelle, smiling.
“Really?”
“I’ve liked them since high school when my friends and I would sneak booze out of the house and park behind the Discount Mart.”
“Sounds boss.”
Blade glared at Cristian. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to muscle in on Blade’s action.
Cristian stuck out his hand. “Cristian Neville. One of the owners.”
Joelle shook his hand, and Blade watched as her eyes clouded over with surprise and confusion for a second, then softened into lust. It was the same thing, every time. All the babes fell for Cristian’s easy charm.
“Joelle Albright.”
“Pretty name, Joelle. What does it mean?”
She chuckled. “Well, it means Jehovah is God, but the reason I have it is because my father was convinced I’d be a boy, and had already chosen Joseph Ellison for my name. When I was born, they finally decided on Joelle. It’s a combination of Joseph and Ellison.”
“Ah, clever. Do you have a middle name?”
“Marie. Had to be a saint’s name, of course.”
Cristian nodded, then picked up the menu Joelle had been looking at earlier. “Have either of you ordered?”
“No,” said Blade. “Joelle had just asked me what I recommended.”
“And?”
It was on the tip of Blade’s tongue to tell Cristian he recommended a different table, but he didn’t want to appear rude or petty in front of Joelle. “The roast beef is always good.”
“Boss. That’s what I’ll have then.”
* * * *
When the waiter returned they gave their orders, but Joelle knew if she were served cardboard she’d barely notice. Whereas Blade had that all-American boy-next-door quality to his looks, Cristian’s dark hair and chiseled face reminded her of Cary Grant or Randolph Scott. His gray eyes were penetrating and deep. When he smiled, a small dimple appeared in each cheek. Joelle wanted to put her tongue into those dimples.
“When I showed Joelle to her suite earlier, I explained how all the suites have recently been renovated. You can tell Zach the money was well spent. Joelle was very impressed.” Blade leaned back with a smug smile on his face, as though he were proud of this fact.
Cristian chuckled softly. “Yeah, Blade. I’ll make sure to tell him that.” He addressed Joelle. “How do you like it here so far, Joelle?”
“I love it. The scenery is breathtaking.”
“Yes, it is.” His gazes traveled over her face, down to her cleavage, then finally back up to her eyes again. “How did you hear about us?”
Why did they both need to ask that? “An article in a magazine.”
“Really? Which one?” Cristian frowned in confusion as he cut his gaze to Blade.
“I’ve already asked her that. She’s being very secretive about it.” Blade winked at her, and Joelle decided there was no harm in telling them.
“All right, true confession time. My roommate Peggy took a trip to London last month and brought back a copy of Health and Efficiency—H&E. The article was in there, written by a former guest.”
Both men nodded. “Did our former guest have good things to say about us?” asked Blade.
“Yes, she did, which explains why I’m here.”
Cristian chuckled. “Emmett and Zach will be pleased as pie that this place is getting exposure across the Atlantic.” He turned his attention back to Joelle. “So why didn’t this roommate come with you?”
“She’s getting married in a few months.”
Cristian gave her a wicked smile and lowered his voice, leaning close. The scent of maple syrup filled Joelle’s head. “We have married guests here occasionally.”
Joelle stared into his eyes. They were such an unusual shade of gray, almost like storm clouds, but there was nothing angry or dark about them. They shone with a light all their own. “How intriguing.”
Cristian cut his gaze to her left hand. “You’re not married or engaged, are you?”
Joelle averted her gaze. She didn’t want to talk about Scott, not tonight or anytime during the next two weeks. “No, I’m not.”
“I sense an undercurrent of disgust in that answer,” said Blade.
Joelle snapped her gaze to his face. Was he a mind reader, or was she that transparent? “I was engaged, but I broke it off six months ago. He still harasses me though.”
Blade frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Let’s change the subject then. How about your family? Tell us about them.”
Joelle smiled. How refreshing to meet a man who didn’t ask endless questions about why, where, when, and how she’d dumped Scott. “My parents are both from large families, so holidays are always exhausting but fun. Lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins milling around.”
“Do you have a lot of siblings as well?” asked Cristian.
“No, I’m an only child. How about you?”
Cristian cut his gaze to Blade. “No siblings, just a lot of cousins, like you.”
“Oh, how many? I have twenty-two.”
“Not quite that many,” said Blade, giving Cristian a look of warning. “The twelve of us own the resort together.” What was with the warning look? Were they not supposed to talk about their family?
“How interesting. Did you inherit the property?”
Cristian opened his mouth to say something, but Blade cut him off. “Yes, we did. You mentioned New York City earlier, by the elevators. Is that where you’re from?”
“No, I’m from Chicago, but my father is an advertising executive and travels to New York, among other cities, several times a year. We have a second home in upstate New York where I stay with my parents when we travel. I love taking the train into the city with them.”
Their salads arrived, and Joelle caught the scent of maple syrup again. She tasted her food, thinking there was something that gave off that smell in the salad, but realized it was coming from Cristian. Did all the owners smell so enticing? How could a scent emanate from a person?
“How’s the food?” asked Blade.
“It’s really good.”
“We take pride in that as well.” He winked at her, and Joelle nearly dropped her fork. A wave of desire spread through her so quickly she had to sit still for a moment until it passed. She couldn’t remember being this aro
used from nothing more than conversation with a man. Having two so near, and both smelling good enough to eat, was enough to drive her mad.
Cristian leaned closer and made a show out of sniffing the air. “You smell great. What is that?”
“White Shoulders,” said Blade, the smug look returning to his face.
“Blade thinks he’s a perfume connoisseur.” Cristian gave her a conspiratorial wink. “He once claimed he could walk up to every woman in any room and instantly tell what brand of perfume she was wearing.”
Joelle found it interesting that Cristian, whose looks were more classic and refined than Blade’s, was the more playful of the two. It was obvious they were both trying to impress her, and Joelle shivered with delight.
“Is that true, Blade? How fascinating. Should we walk around the room and test it out?”
He studied her face for a few seconds, as though he wasn’t sure if she was teasing him, so she leaned forward and gave him a view of her cleavage. She didn’t want him to think she was making fun of him. Her gesture must have convinced him, because he finally smiled. “No. The only woman I want to get close enough to smell tonight is you.”
His voice was deep, soft, and so sexy that a fresh flood of wetness filled Joelle’s panties. At this rate there would be a watermark on her seat cushion by the time dessert was served.
Cristian muttered something, and Blade asked him to repeat it. With a sheepish look on his face, Cristian cut his gaze to the waiter who had arrived to take away their salad plates, then pointed to Joelle’s empty glass. “Another one?” Without waiting for her to answer, he asked the waiter for two more drinks.
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Cristian?”
He gave her such a smoldering look Joelle had to bite back a moan. She clasped her hands together in her lap and swallowed hard. He touched her cheek, softly, but the effect was like tiny tongues of fire lapping all the sensitive places on her body at the same time.
“No, not really. I was hoping you’d say yes without the benefit of alcohol.”
Her Wanton Ways [Notorious Nephilim 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 2
