To her surprise, he walked her to her door, an old-fashioned courtesy she found charming.
It wasn’t often that she was charmed.
He lowered his mouth to hers, brushed his lips lightly over hers, teasingly, before he allowed them to settle.
Heat rushed through her as he drew her close and took the kiss deeper.
Rafi was intensely aware of his powerful body pressed against hers, of the strength of the arms that banded around her.
“Something to remember me by,” he said, his deep voice seeming to echo inside her.
She wasn’t likely to forget. He had classic, old-world manners, a Mercedes, and very expensive tastes in champagne.
Far more importantly, she’d enjoyed his company tremendously. She liked the warmth, the desire in his eyes.
She wished the night wasn’t over. Already she anticipated seeing him again.
Monday couldn’t come too soon.
Chapter Three
Beyond Rafi’s desk was a new world. Not one she minded. Going over files and filling in reports, Rafi watched the parade before her pass by. Unlike what they showed on TV there was little that was romantic about what she saw. No glass walls separated detectives from perpetrators. Glass would have incredibly stupid when objects and people were likely to go flying, although that didn’t happen as often as it did on TV either. There was no fancy lighting, just fluorescent tubes that flickered enough to give you a headache.
She and her partner Sasha had the midnight shift this week so unless somebody shot someone in a bar or a domestic, or it boiled over into more than a punching match, they were pretty much desk-bound, bringing old cases up to speed. Ninety-nine percent boredom offset by one percent of adrenaline when they did have to respond to a call. At that hour they couldn’t even talk to witnesses unless they wanted to roust a hooker or question a bartender.
Of course there was also the increasing chance that some of the newly free paranormals would act up.
Like every ‘immigrant’ group, there were layers. Now that they didn’t have to hide, it hadn’t taken long for some of the younger and poorer to separate out into gangs of anything from packs of werewolves to mixed groups of shapeshifters and vampires, as testosterone-filled as their more ‘normal’ counterparts.
Some of those gangs had morphed into something far more, prostitution and dealing drugs, as had the immigrants before them.
It had been inevitable ever since the first paranormal revealed himself to be a werewolf who’d found it increasingly impossible in more modern times to conceal what he was. Once he’d outed himself, had broken that barrier, paranormals of all kinds had suddenly come out of the ‘closet’ as it were.
With them had come an entirely new set of problems – nutcases of all kinds, with all their prejudices and preconceptions, especially the religious fanatics.
Several people had been injured before they discovered that despite the movies silver didn’t make good bullets, which spoke well of the restraint of the paranormals involved.
A number of arrests were made after threats against paranormals became public. Searches of perps revealed everything from stakes, mallets, and various items of soft metals – gold and silver primarily – to stolen holy water. Rafi would have thought that stealing holy water would pretty much invalidate it, but maybe that was just her.
It was no wonder many paranormals stayed hidden.
Sometimes Rafi wished human beings didn’t find so many ways to separate themselves, so many reasons to hate and kill each other. But then she’d be out of a job.
Rafi sighed at the thought and turned back to her paperwork.
“So,” Sasha said, “I forgot to ask, how’d the date go?”
Looking up Rafi smiled at the memory and at her partner.
Sasha was a big, good-looking guy with a lean handsome face and warm brown eyes. He was the best partner she’d ever had. The rest of the squad often joked that they were the long and short of it, given her diminutive size, or that she was the brains while he was the brawn although he was easily as smart as she was and just as good a cop. Not to mention she could kick most of their asses. Affection ran deep between them, but that was as far as it went. Neither had ever felt the slightest spark of attraction and neither would have changed a thing about their relationship. Their friendship was just too good for that.
“It went…good.”
Sasha lifted an eyebrow at her as he looked up from his paperwork.
“With that grin,” he said, “it seems like it was probably better than good.”
Rafi shook her head wryly. “It was only one date, Sash.”
She was trying desperately not to make too much about it, but the hours between now and Monday seemed to be passing far too slowly.
He gave her another look, knowing her too well.
“Okay, so it went good, really good,” she admitted. “It was a really good date.”
If Rafi had one true friend in the world, it was Sasha. They’d been through a lot since they’d been partnered three years previously. Trust was essential between partners and he’d trusted her with his deepest secret. Not that he’d had much choice.
Sasha was a werewolf.
According to regs, Sasha wasn’t even really supposed to be on the police force any more than any other paranormal. His greater strength and speed were considered unfair to the general public and a werewolf’s chancy temper was a danger, a liability that opened the PD up to lawsuits if someone got hurt, or Sasha lost control.
It wasn’t fair, especially considering the danger that those on the job faced going up against paranormals, but that was the way it was. A few fought it through the courts while others just kept quiet about what they were.
Like Sasha.
He was a great cop, though, and in the years they’d known each other he’d never once lost control in Rafi’s presence. He had his other nature locked down pretty tight. If he had any questions about it, or on nights when the moon was close and full and he wasn’t sure of himself, he locked himself in a room in the basement of his house. That didn’t happen often.
She’d never seen him change and didn’t want to. It wasn’t that it turned her off or anything, it was just…private. She respected that.
Like her date.
Rafi shook her head. Some things she couldn’t say even to Sasha.
Like that the evening had seemed almost magical.
Thoughts like that just weren’t her nature.
It was so weird.
“I’ve never connected to someone so quickly,” she blurted, almost abashed. “I met him at the Ambassador Club.”
Sasha’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s high-end.”
“I know,” she said. “So is he. Tailored suit and all.”
Warmth washed through her at the memory of Julian as he’d walked toward her. Her little heart had gone pitter pat at the sight of him. It still did at the memory.
“Wow,” Sasha said with a grin. “I’m impressed. He certainly seems to be going all out. So, when are you going to see him again?”
“Monday,” she said.
At the memory of Julian’s mouth on hers her heart did more than pitter pat and more than warmth washed through her.
Sasha folded his hands on their shared desk and looked at her. “Have you told him you’re a cop?”
Taking a breath, Rafi shook her head, looked down at her desk. “No, not yet.”
His tone gentle, Sasha said, “Why not?”
She looked up at him. He knew why not. All the baggage, the expectations.
“I want him to get to know me first. Me. Not the cop.”
“Yeah, I know, Nik,” he said, and sighed. “But you have to tell him.”
She knew that. She did.
“Monday. I’ll tell him Monday.”
When she went to see his house, to meet his cousin.
It couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Four
Rafi admired the scenery as it passed,
intrigued and amused as Julian drove through what seemed like mile after mile of vineyards that spread out on each side of the drive. A pergola ran along both sides of the road. At least a mile of it. The supports were twined with wisteria and clematis in every color of the rainbow. All of it was lit by the warm glow of the setting sun.
Then the vineyards gave way to a broad expanse of neatly clipped green lawn and at last she could see Julian’s house.
Except it wasn’t a house, it was a mansion.
The driveway was a sweep of intricately set pavers that must have cost a fortune, and not a small one, to set in place. The garage housed several high-end cars, the building itself larger than most people’s houses. Including her own apartment.
Julian brought the car to a stop and handed her out of the car as she looked around.
Broad marble steps led up to a wide slate patio shaded by a central oak.
Built of stone, the house itself resembled a small castle.
Planters of Japanese maples and flowering bushes flanked the doorways, the lighting soft and indirect. More light glowed warmly through what appeared to be real leaded-glass windows. Through one set Rafi could see a library filled with aged, leather-bound books.
The main doorway itself was grand, an intricate filigree of wrought iron over ancient carved oak.
She glanced at Julian and lifted an eyebrow.
With a small shrug he said, “I might have a little bit of spare change here and there.”
His dark eyes twinkled with mischief.
She looked at him, smiled, and shook her head.
“A little spare change?” she said. “In addition to the Mercedes, there’s a Jag, a Maserati and a Land Rover in the garage.”
Julian shrugged. “True.”
“All right,” she said, laughing, “I’ll admit it. I’m impressed.”
Impressed, but not overawed. She wasn’t a woman who impressed easily. Julian liked that.
Grinning, he said, his hand at the small of her back, “Good. I was hoping.”
That made her laugh again. He liked that about her, her easy laughter.
He opened the door to the house for her.
“Shouldn’t you have servants for this? A butler or something?” she asked with a wave of her hand, giving him a teasing look from beneath her lashes as he escorted her into the foyer.
Her gaze was appreciative as she looked around the entry, taking in the thick Persian carpet on the floor and the antique table with the flower arrangement centered on it. Real, fresh flowers, the scent of which filled the room.
Much entertained, he said, “I gave him and them the night off.”
She looked back at him and raised an eyebrow as she said, “Did you now? Anticipating, were you?”
Oh, she was quick.
There was a hint of challenge in her eyes.
Julian let his hand slide down to the small of her back once again to guide her into the library, enjoying the contact even as he tried not to let his nervousness show. He hoped she was the woman he thought she was. He liked the look of her in his home.
Mahogany hair spilled over her shoulder as she glanced back at him, blue eyes twinkling intriguingly, her lips curving.
She fit. She was a work of art in herself, a fine sculpture wrought of ivory and expensive wood.
That look alone was fascinating, engaging.
Her heels tapped lightly on the intricately tiled mosaic of the entryway before the carpet in the library muffled the sound.
“Let’s say I was hopeful,” he said, smiling in return, enjoying the banter despite his tension as they walked from the foyer into the library.
The room was impressive, with brocade draperies and dark wooden furniture that was clearly antique. Ancient tapestries decorated the walls between the bookcases. Art deco lamps illuminated the room, slender feminine figures reaching upward gracefully. A large screen was set above the fireplace. Despite the eclectic mix of styles and eras, it all worked somehow. It was lush, plush, and appeared to be surprisingly comfortable.
A laugh rang out, startling them both. “Oh, I do like her, Julian. She’ll do very well.”
Rafi turned, to find they weren’t alone.
Holding up a hand, Julian said, “Rafita, don’t be alarmed. As I told you, I wanted to introduce you to my cousin, Nico. Nico, this is Rafi.”
Rafi glanced at Julian and then looked at his cousin.
A glass of golden wine, too dark to be a white. in his hand, Nico stood at the back of the room. He eyed her with evident curiosity, his head tilted slightly.
Leaner than Julian, Nico’s eyes were more almond-shaped, a long-lashed golden brown instead of Julian’s depthless black. As aristocratic as his cousin in looks and bearing, Nico’s features were narrower, not quite as aquiline.
Where Julian was exotically handsome, Nico was simply beautiful.
“Would you like some wine?” Nico asked, as he held up his glass to admire it in the light. “Or something stronger, perhaps? Please not a puerile Chablis or Chardonnay.”
There was something in his voice, a bit of a dare.
Rafi remembered the vineyards that had stretched out on both sides of the driveway. A Chablis or Chardonnay would be a safe choice and one most women would take, appropriate for dinner or sitting on the terrace but not for a slightly cool evening.
“I would, please,” she said, giving him a look of amusement as she glanced from him to Julian. “If what you’re having is a sherry or something just as rich but not too sweet, I’d like some of it, please.”
His eyes glinting in return, Nico bowed his head a little.
Judging by that look, she’d passed his test.
Julian took her hand and raised it to his lips, smiling. “One for me as well, Nico, if you don’t mind?”
Rafi smiled back at him. Her pulse fluttered at the approving look in both their eyes.
Dressed more casually than Julian in jeans, a white shirt, and long bare feet, Nico crossed the floor toward them, two glasses of wine in his free hand.
Where Julian moved loosely, easily, Nico stalked like a tiger and yet Rafi sensed no real threat from him. For all his sardonic air, she sensed kindness in him, a warmth he hid carefully.
She’d known more than a few men like him, more sensitive in nature than they wanted to appear. The ironic tone of his voice was a nothing more than a defense mechanism. That vulnerability appealed to her, it brought out her protective instincts.
Nico handed her one glass and bowed with a little smile. His fingers brushed hers as he did, they lingered for just fraction of a second too long, his golden-brown eyes slanting toward her.
She sipped at the sherry as he walked behind her, warmth from the fortified wine filling her. He leaned a little close to breathe in her scent as he went past. The curiously intimate gesture somehow made her as intensely aware of him as she was of Julian.
*****
Both were incredibly handsome, very attractive, men and her body reacted to them naturally.
For a moment, she indulged in brief erotic daydream, one that had her areole pebbling and her pussy dampening. Her own private fantasy – both men making love to her, Julian with his lovely mouth on her throat while Nico ran his tongue lightly around her bared nipple. In an instant she was hot and aching, but careful not to show it.
The sherry was very good, rich, the warming her to her toes. That didn’t help.
Rafi waved a hand at the walls, looking at Julian and his cousin. Outside of a library, bookstore, or the piles scattered around her own house, she’d never seen so many books.
“Have you read all these?”
His expression softening, Julian eyed the bookshelves with evident satisfaction as he sipped his wine.
“Most, yes,” he said, and then smiled wryly. “All but the computer books, those are Nico’s. To me they’re incomprehensible.”
Nico grinned, as mischievous as a boy when he looked at Rafi. “He’s a complete noob. He feels the same abo
ut texting. I had to teach him how to use a cell phone for something other than phone calls.”
The mischief in his eyes made resisting his smile impossible.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t help but be aware of an undercurrent in the air. It was something about the way the two men kept glancing at each other. A silent communication. She sensed a strange tension, an invisible elephant in the room. As a cop, she had to be good at reading the signs that passed between people, the language of glances, the turn of the body. It was what she did. There was an air of…calculation…about the whole thing. Not that it bothered her much, since neither seemed threatening and she rarely went on a date unprepared.
Looking from one handsome man to the other, Rafi said, “All right, do you want to tell me what this is really all about?”
Calmly, Rafi sipped from her glass of wine and lifted an eyebrow, trying not to notice how her heart twisted at the possibility of disappointment.
Nico burst out laughing as Julian looked from one to the other of them, clearly nonplussed.
“She has you pegged already, cousin,” he said, amused, as he leaned back against a table.
Shooting Nico a warning look, Julian looked at Rafi intently. It wasn’t funny, not really.
“I want you to know I liked you from almost the moment we met and that this is very much about you, Rafi, the person,” he said. “About finding the right match. I, we, would very much like that person to be you.”
He looked at Nico, who nodded, a simple incline of his head.
Julian took a breath. This would be the difficult part.
He liked Rafi very much. She was mercurial, able to go from serious to laughing in the blink of an eye, she was bright and beautiful. He liked her but he wanted more. Much more. They both did.
“We have a proposition,” he said carefully, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to lose her before they’d begun. “A personal, not business, proposition.”
They’d tried something like this before and learned from experience that they needed the right person. Finding her, finding that right person, had proven far more difficult.
Blood Bound Page 3
