“I hope you’re hungry. I made pasta,” Lucan beams. He holds out his hand for mine and spins me around. I can tell by the way his face contorts that he is concentrating on not amping me. “You look beautiful. I hope you liked the suit and that it wasn’t too overboard.”
“No, it’s wonderful. Thank you.” I say once I am steady on my feet again. No amps. But I am tingly from my own nerves. “I am hungry, but first I have to take off these shoes.”
Lucan picks me up and carries me to the couch. It is as if I weigh nothing in his arms. He bends down and unclasps the buckles on my shoes. In one swift motion, I am free. “Thank you,” I giggle. “I hate heels.”
While I can’t read his mind, I am sure he’s asking why I wear them if I hate them so much. I ask myself the same question. He helps me out of the jacket lays it across the back of the couch.
“May I?” He takes my left foot in his hand. The tingly vibration of the amps is working to my advantage this time. He’s a regular shiatsu machine.
“You don’t mind?”
“No, not at all.” His brows knit together, concentrating on keeping the current in check. His hands are soft yet strong. “Better?” he asks after a while.
I look at my watch; Lucan has been working for nearly twenty minutes. That is probably the longest foot rub I have ever conjured out of anyone. My brain has been offline the entire time and I think we have both enjoyed the silence. “Yes, thank you.”
“Good.” He holds out his hand again to help me up. I small shock arcs between us and we both jump. “Oops, sorry.”
I sit down at the massive dining room table as Lucan holds the chair out for me. There is a salad bowl and bread with a small bowl of olive oil and balsamic vinegar already on the table. The bread was one of my most favorite parts of dining in Rome. I start on the bread while Lucan retrieves a giant bowl of pasta, a bottle of wine, and a beer. He sets down the pasta and offers the drinks for my choosing.
“I’m sure the wine goes better with the meal.” I don’t want to offend him. Clearly amused, he sets the Coors Light down in front of me. “Are you going to eat?”
“If it would make you more comfortable, I will.”
“No. No, I don’t want to force you to do something you’d rather not.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Relieved, he begins dishing some of the pasta into my bowl.
“As long as you don’t expect me to eat all this!” I exclaim, holding my hand over the bowl to stop the incoming scoop.
“Sorry, it’s been so long, I’ve forgotten how much humans eat,” he grins sheepishly.
So that means he isn’t hosting candle lit dinners every night of the week for New York’s elite bachelorettes.
“No, you’re the first actually,” he answers my thoughts without skipping a beat. “First ever.”
“You mean to tell me that you’ve never cooked a girl dinner before, ever?” I am shocked. Ever is a long time relatively speaking. Wasn’t he supposed to be one of New York’s most eligible bachelors?
“Never.” I see a hint of fangs as he smiles. His smile fades instantly and I can tell he is running his tongue over them behind closed lips. I am fascinated, not scared like I would expect to be.
“Lucan, please. It’s okay. You can just be yourself around me. Really, I want you to feel like you can trust me too.”
I dig into the pasta so he can see I am okay. It is wonderful. Maybe I will eat the entire bowl.
“I’m glad you like it. I might not have been a painter, but I did learn a thing or two about cooking while I was in Italy. I’ve spent some time in Spain and France as well. We can try those countries out some other night.” I nod, my mouth full of pasta.
“So tell me about the eating thing. Now that I know there’s not a string of women running in and out of here every night, I’m curious as to why someone who doesn’t eat has that much food.”
“I got it for you; I didn’t really know what you liked so I got some of everything. I think you might want to finish eating before I tell you about the other part.” He is still running his tongue over his incisors.
“I’m not squeamish, go ahead. Do you puke it up?”
“Ah, yeah, basically,” he sighs. “My body doesn’t need the nutrition and my insides don’t really work like a human’s anymore so digestion is slow to nonexistent. If you’re not quick in getting rid of it, it can begin to rot and talk about heart burn…” he trails off.
“That is fascinating, seriously.” I take another huge bite of pasta. “I’m so sorry you had to eat all that stuff last night for me.”
A short laugh escapes his lips. “I figured I had enough strikes against me already. I didn’t need to add weird date that didn’t eat to the list.”
“True, would have been a red flag for me. Hot guy in an awesome car with a sweet apartment, but doesn’t eat—highly suspicious. What about drinking? Same thing?” I ask between mouthfuls.
“No, since it’s liquid it kinda goes the way of the bl—” He stops and then recovers. “So, how was work today? Did your friends hound you to death about your date?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” I give him a reprieve on elaborating on the liquid issue. “I gave them a general description but left out the unconscious parts and the spending the night part. Well, I told Max, my assistant, that part, but he had already figured it out so it was better to fess up and avoid a confrontation from the rest of the peanut gallery. How did you know Brooks saw the Evora?”
“I saw him when I was getting into a cab out front. Did he know it was you driving?”
“No, but I think he put two and two together when he saw the key at lunch. He hasn’t said anything, but that’s probably because we work in different departments. He was jealous though. How did you get a car that isn’t supposed to be in production for another six months?”
“I have a connection at Lotus. They are in production for those of us that are in the—” I cut him off.
“Enclave?”
“No. Those of us in the know. You can special order anything that is past R&D if you know who to ask,” he chides.
“Oh.” I am embarrassed that I jumped to the conclusion that the Enclave was involved. “Can I ask you some more vampire questions?”
Lucan cringes slightly, whether from my casual use of the word vampire or my inquiry, I can’t tell. “Abri, love, do you ever quit?” He is smiling but I can tell the question is more than just rhetorical. “Go ahead.”
I scoot to the edge of my chair and put my fork down. “How do you move so fast?”
“That one is pretty close to Hollywood fiction. I just can. I’m faster, stronger, and more agile than any human. I can see, hear, and smell better than any creature. All the better to capture my prey. I mean, in theory, if I there was prey I was trying to capture.” He is struggling now. There is a look of great sadness on his face that I cannot understand. “Do you have any idea of what you have gotten yourself into, Abri?”
“Me? You barged into my office the other day and demanded to see me. I didn’t do anything except maybe bump into you on the elevator” My voice waivers a little. That pull in my chest is back.
“I guess you have me there, love. If you’re done we can relax in the living room,” he says, noticing that I have not picked my fork back up. I am very full and partially inebriated from yet another night of drinking.
“Sounds good to me.” I am trying to keep the thought of the marble tub out of my conscious mind as he rolls up his sleeves to tackle the dishes. Water and bare skin are not helping me. “Can I help you with those?”
“Nope,” he replies with a sly grin. Shit. So much for keeping things out of my mind.
In a blur of water and soap bubbles, the dishes are done in thirty seconds or less. There are some definite advantages to this vampire thing. As the last dish is spinning to a stop on the countertop, Lucan darts over to the stereo and changes the CD. Norah Jones’ Come Away With Me fills the apartment.
�
�Dance with me?”
My heart nearly thunders out of my chest and I am suddenly shy. “I’m not much of a dancer,” I admit quietly.
“Come.” His command is quiet and my resistance melts into a puddle at my two left feet.
His sweater is damp from the dishes and he tugs it over his head before tossing it on the couch. This time there is no tight white undershirt, just low-slung jeans and muscles. I may pass out again and he hasn’t even touched me yet. I find myself crossing the room to meet him.
He reaches for my hand and the familiar arc of electricity flows between us. Contrary to its intended purpose, I have never felt safer in my life. The amps ebb and flow with the melody as our bodies draw closer. Lucan places his other hand on my back and presses me against his bare chest. I rest my head on his shoulder and we swirl around the polished wood floors of the Cloud Club.
I am in awe. It is obvious Lucan learned to dance in a time when dancing was a necessary and valued skill for a gentleman. He’s even making me look like I know what I’m doing. My experience with slow dancing is limited to a best-forgotten seventh grade dance and a wedding last fall where my aunt forced me to dance with my thirteen-year-old cousin. When the song ends, he kisses my forehead before letting me go. I hope my legs will support my weight. My extremities have a way of forgetting themselves under Lucan’s touch. Oh Abri, I think, what have you gotten yourself into?
“Probably more than you can handle.”
He is getting better at holding back the amps and we stand there making out like teenagers while the stereo flips to another slow song. I cannot stop my hands from roaming over his sculpted back.
“I like your idea.” Lucan has a mischievous look in his eye. I realize he is talking about the bathtub. I blush.
“Is it a good idea? I mean, you’ve read those warnings on electrical appliances haven’t you.”
“It doesn’t work in the water. Otherwise taking a shower would be hazardous to my health.”
“Oh, I see.”
Lucan is already walking towards the giant bathroom. “Glad you see it my way, Abri. I’ll start the water if you will grab us something to drink. Your choice.”
I stand dumbfounded in the middle of the living room floor. Is this really happening? Although it’s been a while, I know the likely outcome for a scenario such as this. I need a drink. He is lighting candles around the tub when I rejoin him. The city below and the candles are the only lights in the room.
“What do you think?” He points to the wall of windows. “Could you look at this view forever?”
“I could,” I answer breathlessly. Only I am not looking at the windows.
The candlelight gives his pale skin an ethereal glow. I notice for the first time that Lucan has a tattoo on his upper arm, a crest. My thoughts betray me and he tosses a towel at my head.
“Oh, you meant the lights. Yes, they’re beautiful.”
“Abri, dear, for a lawyer, you are a horrible liar.” He is unbuttoning his jeans. I try to think of a clever retort but my brain is foggy and retarded like I’ve just been amped by a dozen vampires. I want to form a thought about how I am about to get naked, about how Lucan is nearly naked, but I can’t. I am nervous and excited. Something I haven’t paid attention to in a long time wakes up and gives a languid stretch in my belly.
“Towel?” He has his hand out for the towel I am still clutching. We are both adults, I tell myself. The old rule about waiting until the third date has no place here. I can count the elevator rides, my office, dinner last night and now, can’t I? I hand him the towel and he drops it unceremoniously on the marble floor. The stereo in the living room switches to something seductive. Middle Eastern guitar and drums.
Lucan is standing there in his boxer briefs with the candlelight bouncing off the chiseled angles of his chest. I am standing here melting in my expensive suit. I grip the cool marble with my toes in an attempt to ground myself.
Lucan frees the edge of my shirt from the waistband of my skirt and his hands skim along my sides. Obediently, I raise my arms over my head. Our eyes lock as he lifts my shirt the rest of the way off. In one swift move he tosses it to the floor and releases the zipper on the back of my skirt. It glides down my skin and comes to rest on the floor. Brazenly, I steady myself with a hand on Lucan’s hip as I kick the fallen skirt away. He gasps at my touch; it is the first time I’ve initiated such intimate contact.
We are now both in our underwear. I hook my fingers inside the waistband of his boxer briefs intending to continue my brazenness but Lucan beats me to it. My bra and panties have now joined my other clothing on the floor thanks to his quick hands.
“No fair,” I protest. “I’m naked and you’ve still got your knickers on.” Lucan and the candlelight are having some sort of weird effect on me. I cannot muster a single negative thought about myself at the moment, in spite of the fact that I am naked in front a very large mirror.
He motions for me to get into the tub. There is a step wide enough to sit on below the water line. I obey and sink down into the warm, bubbly water. Lucan doffed his boxer briefs and climbs into the enormous tub. He is right, no amps in the water. Lucan positions himself on the step so that he is facing the windows with his back is against the tub. He motions for me to come to him. I lean back against his chest and he wraps his arms around me. The bubbles rise around us and I can feel tension releasing from his limbs. He is completely still, including not breathing. I can’t feel his heart beating either, but I expected that. Mine is beating wildly enough for the both of us.
“Sorry, I don’t have to breathe, but I usually do. If it weirds you out, I’ll make sure to do it all the time.” The way he replies to my thoughts out loud is no longer odd, but I wish I could hear what he’s thinking about too. He has unbridled access to me and I only have benefit of the Vulcan mind-meld trick if he lets me. “All you have to do is ask,” he adds, smoothing my hair away from my face.
I’m not sure if he’s referring to the breathing or the thinking. “No, it’s fine. Just an observation, that’s all,” I reply. I’m not sure which one I am referring to either.
Lucan kisses my shoulder. His touch sparks a thought in my head. He is marveling at my unyielding acceptance of him. I am taking this remarkably well, aren’t I? I lean against him again and he rests his chin on my shoulder. There is a connection between us that I can’t deny and I doubt Lucan can either. The languid stretch begins in my belly again, I feel like I’m coming undone.
“Would you be totally offended if we took this kind of slow,” I blurt out. “I’m not really a jump-into-things kinda girl, in spite of the fact that I just jumped naked into your gigantic bathtub. I haven’t been in a relationship in a really, really long time. Everything I have done with you in the last twenty-four hours is completely uncharted territory for me. I don’t even date much because of work and I never go home from bars with men. Ever. ” I am rambling.
“Whatever you want, Abri. I have waited many lifetimes for this; time means little to me when you think about it.” I hadn’t thought about it that way before but it’s true. Lucan has nothing but time.
“Speaking of work, I should probably go home sometimes tonight. I have four hearings tomorrow and I’m out of fancy designer suits.” I want to stay but I don’t want to be that girl that doesn’t know when to go either. “I need to check my messages, my mail, make sure my houseplant is still dead.”
“I can take care of the clothing issue if you want. I could send someone to your apartment or I can call Versace again. Or another designer, if you wish.” He intends the words to come out neutral and accommodating, but I can sense the fear in his voice. He is afraid I am saying goodbye.
Not goodbye, just good night. I don’t want to be the needy girlfriend only twenty-four hours in no matter what kind of cosmic connections are at work between us.
“You know what’s funny about this whole thing? You could kill me at any moment, in a variety of ways—electric shock in the tub, draining me
of blood—and here I sit worried about you buying me something. Most girls in this town would expect a guy to buy them expensive things.” What I dork, I finish in my head.
“You are a dork Abri Elizabeth Cole.” Lucan splashes me playfully. “A dork that apparently considers herself my girlfriend.”
“Must you listen to everything I say?” I splash him back to distract him from my reddened face. Never get into a splashing match with a vampire. Lucan returns my volleys before the water even reaches his side of the tub. Water is spilling over the sides at an alarming rate. “Okay, okay. I give up! You win!”
Lucan stops splashing and pulls me back into his lap. The faucet turns on and warm water begins filling the tub again. “It’s automatic,” he points out before I ask.
“Cool.” I settle back against him and let the water flow back over my body. The city lights are beautiful. Even if I moved to Chelsea, my apartment would not have near as nice a view. On my budget, it will probably be of a brick wall or someone else’s window. Geez, I need to start looking if I am actually going to move. My brain is wondering as I track a plane crossing our air space on final approach to La Guardia.
“Abri, does that brain of yours ever shut off?” Lucan playfully rubs the top of my wet head.
“Eh, no, ‘fraid not. Occupational hazard. Always something to do, something to think about.”
“Just wondering.” He drops his hands to my shoulders and starts rubbing. I fight to turn off my thoughts while we watch the moon creep across the sky. It doesn’t last.
“Tell me about the tattoo on your arm. What does it mean?” I am almost too relaxed to make conversation, but I don’t want to fall asleep in the tub.
42nd & Lex Page 9
