by Lynsay Sands
“Never underestimate the great Stephanie,” Mirabeau said with amusement from in front of her.
“Stop that,” Drina snapped. Good Lord, she definitely didn’t like being read.
Mirabeau just laughed, but she managed to subdue her amusement as they reached the main floor and headed into the dining room.
“Oh good, the helicopter is here and-”
Drina tore her eyes away from watching her feet and glanced to Harper in question when his words died abruptly. He was staring at her, his mouth open, her coat in one hand and the other half-lifted toward the window as if he’d been gesturing outside to where the helicopter was. He looked rather stunned. She wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He’d already seen her in the dress. It shouldn’t elicit this effect, whatever this effect was. Horror was her guess.
“It’s not horror,” Stephanie hissed with exasperation behind her. “It’s awe. While he saw the dress, he didn’t see the dress, stockings, heels, jewelry, makeup, and hair. You’ve taken his breath away.”
“Here’s your coat,” Tiny announced, taking the long faux leather coat from Harper’s unresisting hand and crossing the room to hold it open for her.
“Thank you,” Drina murmured, slipping first one arm and then the other into the sleeves.
“You’re welcome,” Tiny said cheerfully, and she swore his eyes were twinkling as he shifted his gaze from her to Harper, who was still silent but had closed his mouth and lowered his arm. “Well, you two kids have fun.”
Drina smiled wryly at the man, though she couldn’t have said whether it was at his calling them kids when they were both pretty much ancient, or at the suggestion they have fun when she was positive that was impossible.
“Right,” Harper said, snapping to life as she reached his side. “The helicopter landed just across the street in the schoolyard.” His gaze dropped to her heels and turned, concerned. “Can you manage in those shoes? It’s icy out there.”
“Maybe you should wear the thigh-high boots, instead, Drina,” Stephanie suggested suddenly. “Those are FMs too, but would have more traction. They’d also be warmer.”
“Thigh-high boots would work with that dress,” Mirabeau decided. “In fact, they’d be sexy as heck with it.”
“The shoes are fine,” Drina insisted, flushing with embarrassment at all the attention. Everyone in the room was now staring at her legs in the fishnet stockings. Fishnet, for God’s sake! The only thing she could think of that would be sluttier was the thigh-high boots.
“Well, I suppose Harper can carry you if you find it too slippery,” Stephanie said cheerfully.
“Right. The boots then,” Drina snapped, tossing a glare at the teenager as she moved out into the pantry to get them. She almost tried to don them right there, leaning against the wall, but gave up that idea when she nearly fell over just trying to remove the shoes.
Sighing with exasperation, she carried the boots back into the dining room and sat down to quickly remove her shoes. She then tugged on first one boot, and the other, trying to ignore just how much leg she was flashing while doing so. Drina then stood up and moved back to Harper’s side.
“All set,” she said with forced cheer.
Harper tore his eyes away from her boots, swallowed, nodded, and then took her arm and ushered her to the door, muttering, “Don’t wait up.”
She was crossing the deck when Drina decided she was glad to be wearing the boots after all. It was cold as the dickens, and the boots at least kept her legs from freezing. They were also easier to walk in than the shoes, which were probably an inch taller. Not that the boots didn’t have high heels too, but they were at least manageable. She’d felt like she was on stilts in the shoes.
Drina eyed the helicopter as they crossed the street. She then glanced around, noting that traffic had slowed to a stop, and people were looking out the windows of the surrounding houses. As transportation went, it definitely wasn’t your low-profile choice. By her guess, every phone in town would be ringing before they’d lifted off.
Heck, half of them were probably already ringing, she thought wryly, as they ducked to rush under the blades to the helicopter door.
Chapter Five
No one had mentioned how long the trip to Toronto would be by helicopter, and Drina wasn’t wearing a watch, so couldn’t check, but it didn’t seem to take long. Though that might have been because she was busy gazing wide-eyed down at the passing lights. She’d expected they would land in another schoolyard once they reached Toronto, so was a bit startled when they set down on the top of a building.
It obviously wasn’t their destination, however. After riding down in an elevator, Harper led her through a huge, majestic lobby and outside to the curb, where a car waited. Drina sighed as she settled against the warm, cushioned seats. She listened absently as Harper spoke to the driver, and then they were moving.
“The Night Club doesn’t do much in the way of food,” Harper explained as he settled back in the seat next to her. “So I booked a table at a restaurant for supper. I hope that’s all right?”
“Of course,” Drina said with a smile. “Actually, now that you mention it, I am rather hungry.”
“So am I. Now we just have to hope that this restaurant is good,” he said wryly. “I called my vice president for suggestions of where to go, not thinking that as an immortal he doesn’t eat. He assured me this place is good, though, for what that’s worth.”
“Your vice president?” Drina asked curiously.
“I have a frozen-food business,” he admitted with a self-deprecating grimace. “Silly, I suppose, for an immortal to run one, but I was a cook when I was much younger, and while I eventually lost interest in eating, I never really lost interest in food itself,” he admitted, sounding embarrassed. “So my business down through the centuries has always been in some area of food service or other. Pubs, restaurants, and finally, frozen entrees. We’ve branched out to wine as well the last decade or so.”
“Oh, well that’s-” Drina paused and glanced out the window as the car slowed and pulled to the curb.
“It wasn’t far, but I thought with it being so cold tonight, a car might be the better bet,” he explained, and then leaned forward to say something to the driver. She caught what sounded like there was no need for the man to get out and get the door, and something about calling when they were done here, and then Harper opened his door and slid out. By the time Drina slid across the seat, he had turned back and was holding out his hand.
Smiling, she clasped his fingers and lifted one booted leg and then the other out to the sidewalk, trying not to panic as she felt her skirt slide up her legs. That concern was forgotten, however, as she felt the slippery surface of the sidewalk under her boot. Holding her breath, she stood up, relieved when her feet stayed under her, and she didn’t do anything as unglamorous as fall on her butt on the icy concrete.
Harper ushered her a step away from the door, and then turned back to close it. The moment he’d turned away, she gave her skirt a quick tug to put it back where it belonged. By the time he turned back, she had finished and was smiling calmly.
He ushered her inside, and Drina glanced around as he spoke to the maitre d’, noting the low lighting, the crisp white linen, blood red candles, and what she would bet was real silver on the tables. Almost all of which seemed occupied. Then Harper was taking her coat and handing it along with his own over to a smiling young man in a black tux who whisked them away as another young man, similarly outfitted, led them through the quiet restaurant to one of the few unoccupied tables she could see.
“Thank you,” Drina murmured, accepting the menu offered to her. She then glanced around again as the fellow left. The restaurant was busy, but the atmosphere subdued, soft music playing unobtrusively in the background and the dinner guests speaking in soft tones. A far cry from the restaurant where they’d had their lunch that day. There the music playing had been some form of rock or pop, played loudly enough that people had to speak
up to be heard over it. This was nicer, Drina decided, and smiled faintly as she turned her attention to her menu.
“So,” Harper said moments later, as their waiter left with their orders. “You know about my little business. How about you? Have you always been a hunter?”
Drina smiled wryly at the “little business” bit. She doubted men with little businesses had helicopters, BMWs, and diamond-encrusted watches like the one Harper was wearing this evening. But she didn’t comment on any of that, and merely said, “No.”
Harper raised an eyebrow. “No?” he asked with disbelief. “That’s it?”
“No, Harper?” she suggested mildly, but knew her eyes were twinkling with amusement and gave up teasing him. “Okay. Let’s see. .” She considered her past, and then smiled wryly and shook her head. “Well, I was a perfume maker, Amazone, concubine, a duchess, a pirate, a madam, and then a hunter.”
Harper’s eyebrows had slid up his forehead as she rattled off her résumé. Now he cleared his throat and said, “Right, let’s start at the beginning. I believe that was a perfume maker?”
Drina chuckled and nodded. “My father first settled in Egypt, my mother was Egyptian. It’s where I was born. Women had a lot more freedom there. We were actually considered equal to men, well mostly anyway. Certainly more equal than in other cultures,” she added dryly. “We could own businesses, sign contracts, and actually work and make a living rather than be a burden to our fathers or male relatives.”
“And you grew up to be a perfume maker,” Harper murmured.
“My mother wanted me to be a seshet, a scribe,” she explained with a grimace. “But I was fascinated by scent, how the blending of them could create another wholly different aroma and so on.” She smiled, and added, “It turns out I was very good at it. The rich came from far and wide to buy my scents. I made a very good living, owned my own large home and servants and all without having to have a man at my side. It was the good life,” she said with a grin that faded quickly. Heaving a sigh, she then added, “But the Romans arrived and ruined everything. Those bloody idiots invaded everywhere and brought their more archaic laws with them. Women were not equal in Roman society.” She scowled, and then a smile began to tug at her lips again. “I couldn’t run a business under their rule, but I could fight. I became a female gladiator. Amazones they called us.”
“After the Amazons I suppose?”
Drina nodded, and said dryly, “The Romans were as lacking in imagination as they were intelligence.”
Harper chuckled at her snide words, and she smiled.
“I wasn’t a gladiator long. It just wasn’t very challenging. The mortal gladiators were slower, weaker, and easy for me to defeat. It felt like cheating. I did try to avoid ‘to the death’ fights. That would have just been, well, like slaughtering sheep,” she said with distaste.
Harper nodded with understanding, and then they both fell silent and sat back as their waiter returned with the bottle of wine Harper had ordered. The man opened and poured a small amount in Harper’s glass for him to try, and when he nodded approval, quickly filled both glasses. He assured them their meal would follow directly, and then slipped away.
“So beating up mortal gladiators was no fun, and you gave it up to become. .” He arched an eyebrow. “A concubine, was it?”
Drina chuckled at his expression. “Well, not just like that. Some time passed.” She paused to take a sip of wine, smiled as the smooth flavor filled her mouth, and then swallowed, and said, “In retrospect, I think the concubine gig was my rebellious stage. I did behave and live with my family, playing the dutiful daughter for a while before that. But it was very hard. After having tasted the freedom of living and ruling my own life, to suddenly be reduced to a dependent child was very frustrating.” She blew out an irritated breath at the memory.
“Ah,” Harper nodded with understanding. “Yes, I suppose it would be.”
“Perhaps, had I started out living in that sort of society and hadn’t tasted freedom, I would have handled it better,” Drina said thoughtfully. “But I wasn’t, so I didn’t take well to being ruled by a man. At least not with Stephano doing the bossing.”
“Your father?” Harper asked.
“No, my eldest brother. He was named after our father. Our parents died when the Romans first invaded, and Stephano then became the “head of the family.” She grimaced. “He and I are like oil and water. Or we were. We get along well enough now, though.” She grinned. “But boy did he pitch a fit over the concubine thing. He even called in Uncle Lucian to deal with me.”
Harper’s eyebrows rose. “I’m surprised Lucian bothered to intervene.”
“Well, it wasn’t just the concubine thing. I was a couple of centuries old by then, and I suppose my being a concubine wouldn’t have bothered him if I hadn’t stepped over the line.” She hesitated, and then sighed and said, “As you probably have experienced, mortals become boring as lovers and partners after a while.”
He nodded solemnly. “Easily read and controlled, it’s hard not to give in to the temptation to do so.”
“Yes, well. .” Drina grimaced. “I’m afraid while I was seen as a concubine, I was really playing puppet master with my lover and kind of ruling the country through him. At least until Uncle Lucian caught wind of it and came to give me hell.”
Harper started to laugh, and then asked, “Who was he?”
Drina shook her head at once. It was just too embarrassing to admit. She’d nearly caused a civil uprising with her messing about, which was why her uncle had intervened. “Perhaps I’ll tell you one day, but not tonight.”
“Hmm, I’ll hold you to that,” Harper assured her.
Drina shrugged.
“So, next was duchess, I believe?” he asked.
“Yes, that was sometime later. I was suitably chastened after the concubine business. Enough to behave for a while again. We moved to Spain in that time, and the Spanish were as bad as the Romans when it came to women’s place in society. But eventually I grew weary of Stephano bossing me about again. And then I met a very handsome and charming duke, who quite swept me off my feet.”
“You’ve had a life mate?” Harper asked with surprise.
Drina shook her head. “No. But unlike most people, his thoughts were as lovely and charming as his words. He was an honest man.”
“A rarity,” Harper murmured solemnly.
“Yes. I quite liked him, and he truly loved me and asked me to marry him, and I agreed, promising myself I wouldn’t control him or do anything like I had with. . er. . when I was a concubine.”
“And did you?” he asked curiously.
Drina delayed answering by taking another sip of wine, but when a knowing smile began to tug at his lips, she gave up trying to think of a way of avoiding the question, and defended, “It’s very hard not to when you know you’re right, and he’s just being a stubborn git.”
Harper burst out laughing again, and she shook her head. “Anyway, he was only a duke, so it wasn’t like I was ruling a country and risking civil riots, but still I felt bad about it every time I did take control. I also felt bad because I was keeping him from having an heir, which I knew he wanted.”
“You didn’t wish to have a child with him?” Harper asked curiously.
Drina frowned and shook her head. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. But it seemed cruel. Our child would be immortal, and aside from the increased risk of revealing what we were, he or she would have to leave when I did. It seemed cruel to give him a child, and then take him or her away.”
When he nodded in understanding, she sighed and ran her finger around the rim of her wineglass. “Even with just myself to worry about, it became increasingly hard to hide what I was. I claimed a bad reaction to sun on my skin to explain why I avoided it, but I still needed to slip away to hunt every night, which was much more difficult than I’d expected. .” She blew out a breath and shrugged. “We were only together a year or so before the duchess had to die.”
“How did you manage that?” Harper asked quietly.
“Oh, Uncle Lucian helped me out,” she said wryly. “The man always seems to show up when you need him. It’s like a sixth sense with him or something.”
“I’ve heard that about him,” Harper said and asked curiously, “What did he do?”
“He arranged for a message claiming that Stephano was deathly ill and asking for me at a time when my husband was expected at court. Lucian assured him he’d see me safely there and had booked passage up the coast on a ship. Then he bought a ship, manned it with immortals, and my husband rode with us to port to see us off.
“It was surprisingly emotional,” she admitted with a frown. “I mean, I knew I wasn’t going to die, but I would be dead to him and never see him again, and I was quite overwrought. Of course, he put it down to concern for my brother and was very sweet and tender. He stayed to watch us sail off.” She fell silent as she recalled that morning, and found herself having to blink away a sudden, surprising well of tears. She had been fond of many mortals over the ages, but Roberto had been a special man. She’d loved him dearly and for years had regretted that he hadn’t been a possible life mate.
Shaking her head, she finished quickly, “Uncle Lucian had purchased the ship with the sole purpose of sinking it. The ship went down, supposedly with all hands on board, and I, along with everyone else, was presumed dead.”
“And then you were back to living with your brother,” Harper said with a grimace that suggested he knew how little she would have enjoyed that.
“Not for terribly long,” she said with satisfaction. “Just long enough to decide what I wished to do next.”
“Which was. .” He paused, apparently going back through his memory to the list she’d rattled off earlier, and then said uncertainly, “Pirate?”
Drina chuckled. “I was a privateer really, but it’s the same thing, just that it was sanctioned by the government. As captain, I had a letter of marque allowing me to attack and rob vessels belonging to enemies of Spain. Royal permission to plunder.”
