The Vampire and the Virgin las-8

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  She glanced down. Her wet cotton bra had molded to her like a second skin, clearly showing her nipples, which were now reacting to the cold air. She ducked into the water up to her chin. “Can you make the call, please?”

  A hint of red glimmered in his eyes, and he rubbed them. “I’ll be right back.” He surged out of the Jacuzzi, water dripping from his body and black boxer shorts.

  She watched as he strode to the house. There was something odd about his eyes. They seemed to get irritated easily. Her gaze wandered over his broad shoulders and strong back, then zeroed in on his backside. The wet black cotton was glued to his buttocks, clearly showing the muscles at work with each step he took.

  She licked her lips. “Could you bring me a glass of water?”

  He glanced over his shoulder as he opened the door. “Aye. Just a minute.”

  She moved across the tub so she could see him through the large plate-glass window. His back was still to her as he talked on the phone. He’d left the back door open, so she was able to catch most of his conversation.

  “Does anyone there speak English?” he asked after connecting with the police. “Good. I need to report a—an incident. ’Tis a wee bit strange, and ye may find it hard to believe—aye, I am speaking English.”

  Olivia chuckled. Then Robby turned slightly, and her jaw dropped. Good God. The front of his boxer shorts was protruding.

  “There was a jaguar on the beach at Petra. A ja-gu-ar,” he repeated slowly. “No, no’ the car. The cat. A black panther. Nay, it wasna a big house cat. ’Twas a panther.”

  Robby raked a hand through his long hair, inadvertently giving Olivia an excellent profile of his washboard abs. She gulped. His flat stomach made the swelling in his underwear look even bigger.

  “No, I’m no’ high on any drugs,” Robby growled. “And I can tell the difference between a bloody goat and a panther. Hello? Hello?” He hung up and walked out of her view.

  With a grimace, Olivia settled back into the Jacuzzi. The police thought it was prank call. Who could blame them? How on earth could a jaguar get on a Greek isle?

  And where was it now? She looked about nervously. She’d seen the cat scamper up a rocky bluff not far from here. What if the Jacuzzi was his favorite watering hole? She’d look like a yummy morsel, floating in the middle. She needed to relocate fast.

  Robby heated up a bottle of synthetic blood in the microwave. He needed to take the edge off his appetite before returning to Olivia. He smiled to himself as he fixed her a glass of ice water. Carlos was right. If he played his cards right, he could get lucky. Hell, he’d been lucky ever since he’d met Olivia. She was the best thing that had happened to him since…he thought back. Lord Almighty, since he’d been transformed in 1746.

  He needed to be careful so he wouldn’t lose her. Or frighten her away. He glanced at his swollen groin and winced. He looked like he’d been playing the old bagpipe.

  The microwave dinged, and he guzzled down half the bottle of warm synthetic blood. It was just as well the police in Skala hadn’t believed his panther story. He sure didn’t want them roaming the island with rifles, looking for Carlos.

  Maybe he’d been too hard on the shape-shifter. There was a full moon tonight, so Carlos might have been forced to shift. Still, he shouldn’t have terrorized Olivia just to help Robby have a hot date. He recalled how good she had felt in his arms, how she managed to look both sexy and innocent in her white brassiere and knickers. And she was waiting for him in the hot tub. His groin stiffened just thinking about her all hot and wet.

  Bugger. He couldn’t go back to her looking like this. He grabbed the glass of ice water and dumped half of it on himself. “Oy! Bloody hell.”

  “Are you all right?”

  He spun and discovered Olivia standing in the kitchen doorway. He froze for a few seconds as he looked her over. She was clutching her wet clothes to her chest, effectively hiding the parts he really wanted to see. Still, he enjoyed seeing her bare arms and lovely long legs. His gaze wandered to her face, and he realized she was giving him a similar examination.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of his groin.

  Water dripped from his wet boxers, the droplets plopping onto his feet. Bugger. He must look like he’d just peed on himself. The blood he’d recently ingested rushed to his face, giving him a rare blush.

  “’Tis naught but water, ye ken.” He winced. His embarrassment was causing his accent to thicken. He lifted the glass so she could see it was half full. “I used some of yer ice water to…minimize a growing concern.”

  She made an odd strangled sound that sounded suspiciously like a stifled giggle. With pink cheeks, she focused on the counter behind him. “I thought I’d be safer in the house, since there’s a jaguar out there.”

  “I see.” So much for making love to her in the hot tub. “Did ye want this water? I can refill it for you.”

  “That’s okay.” She looked at the bottle in his other hand. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

  “Nay! Ye-Ye wouldna like it.” He quickly emptied the rest of the synthetic blood in the sink. “’Tis flat.”

  She watched him curiously. “It was wine, right?”

  “Would ye like some wine? I can pour you a glass.”

  “That would be lovely, thank you.”

  He set the glass of water on the counter and retrieved a wineglass from an overhead cabinet. Then he located a bottle of merlot in the fridge that Carlos had opened earlier when he’d eaten the leftovers that Olivia and her grandmother had left. He filled the glass, then handed it to her.

  “Thank you.” She shifted her clothes to one arm so she could take the wineglass. Her wet jeans slipped from her grasp and tumbled onto her feet. “Oops.”

  “I’ll get it.” He leaned over to grab her jeans, then noticed how close he was to her bare legs. He straightened very slowly, enjoying the view. By the time his eyes reached her face, her cheeks were pink again.

  She cleared her throat. “I need to get out of my wet clothes.”

  “That would be nice. Ye want to do it now?”

  “I need a towel to dry off.”

  “Of course.” He grabbed a clean kitchen towel and handed it to her.

  She gave him a dubious look. “That won’t cover up much.”

  “Works for me.” He tossed it back onto the counter. “I’ll bring you a bath towel.”

  “Could you find something for me to wear?”

  “Aye.” Maybe a handkerchief.

  “Is there a dryer in the house? I need to rinse out my clothes and dry them.”

  “Aye, right through there.” He motioned to a door by the refrigerator.

  “Great. Thank you.” She headed to the utility room.

  He waited for her to pass so he could see her from behind. Her wet panties clung to her rump, wedged into the crease and molded to each rounded cheek. Lord Almighty, he wanted to touch her. Kiss her. Make her shudder and scream.

  She cleared her throat.

  He glanced up. “Yes?”

  She’d paused just inside the utility room to glare at him. “I need those jeans.”

  “Of course.” He strode to the doorway and tossed her wet jeans into the sink next to the washing machine. “I’ll be back with some clothes and a towel.”

  “Thank you.” She shut the door after he left.

  He dashed to his bedroom to change clothes. He glanced at his bed and smiled. The night was still young, and like Carlos said, a good Vamp could last all night long.

  CHAPTER 8

  Olivia was relieved to find a stack of clean beach towels on the dryer. She rinsed her sweater in the sink, then laid it on the counter on top of a beach towel. After rinsing the rest of her clothes, she tossed them in the dryer. She glanced at the closed door. Hopefully, Robby would knock first. She quickly stripped off her wet underwear, rinsed it out, and threw it in the dryer.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Just a minute.” She grabbed a beach towel
and wrapped it around herself. “Okay.”

  The door cracked open, and Robby peered inside. “Och, ye found a towel.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  He grinned. “Lass, ye could never disappoint.” He set a bath towel and some clothes on the counter next to her sweater. He was still barefoot and bare-chested, but he’d traded in the wet boxer shorts for a pair of white martial-arts pants. “Come out when ye’re ready.” He closed the door.

  Ready for what? She grabbed the wineglass off the counter and gulped down a swallow. Relax. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But that was the problem. Where Robby was concerned, she found herself wanting the whole shebang. And she’d only known him a few days.

  She turned on the dryer, then examined the clothes he’d given her. They were definitely for a woman, so she assumed they must belong to the wife of whoever owned the villa. They were summer pajamas: a blue tank top and a pair of cotton shorts that were blue with white fluffy clouds.

  The shorts fit, although they seemed a bit baggy around the legs. The top was a snug fit that left little to the imagination. With a grimace, she wrapped the bath towel around her shoulders like a shawl. As soon as her clothes were dry, she’d put them on and hurry back home. Or could she? She didn’t dare walk home with a jaguar out there. Maybe Robby had a car. Or maybe she’d have to spend the night with him.

  She snorted. Her grandmother would never believe the jaguar excuse.

  She took another sip of wine for fortification, then left the utility room. The lights in the kitchen had been turned off, but enough light filtered in from the family room that she was able to find her way. She reached the arched entrance to the family room and stopped.

  A fire blazed in the hearth. Spare pillows and an afghan from the couch had been spread on the rug in front of the fireplace. She swallowed hard. Robby’s intentions were clear. He meant to seduce her.

  He blew out a match he’d just used to light a candle on the coffee table. “Would ye like more wine?”

  “I’m okay.” I’m in deep trouble. She perched on one end of the couch and set her wineglass on the coffee table.

  “Are ye warm enough? The only clothes I could find were summer ones that Shanna left behind.”

  “Who’s Shanna?”

  “Shanna Draganesti. She owns this house, along with her husband. Several houses, actually.” He sat in the middle of the couch and shifted sideways to face her.

  She noted how muscular he looked, and how the hair on his chest was more brown than red. He’d tied his damp auburn hair back into a ponytail. “Where is your home?”

  “Scotland, a few miles south of Inverness. I have about twenty acres next to my grandfather’s land. I have my own house, but he always expects me to stay in his castle.”

  She blinked. “A real castle?”

  “Aye. ’Tis a wee bit drafty for my taste. My house is cozier, but I’m rarely there. I’m usually on assignment.”

  “What kind of assignments?”

  He rested an elbow on the back of the couch. “Security and investigation.”

  She nodded. Even though her lie detector skills didn’t work with Robby, she believed he was being honest. The physical signs were correct. He was facing her, keeping eye contact with her and looking comfortable. What’s more, she had a strong feeling that he wanted her to trust him. He’d claimed from the beginning that he was trustworthy. He’d endured torture without betraying his colleagues. So why shouldn’t she trust him? He’d confronted a huge jaguar in order to save her.

  “You were working for your grandfather’s company last summer when you were captured?” she asked. “What kind of assignment was that?”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Sometimes MacKay S and I gets involved with some sensitive security issues.”

  She sat back. “You mean national security? That’s how you know people in the CIA?”

  He nodded. “We were trying to locate a group of domestic terrorists.”

  “Where? How come I never heard about this?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “’Tis a secret.”

  She took a deep breath. “And these terrorists are the ones who tortured you.”

  “Aye, but I’d rather no’ talk about it. ’Tis over and done with.”

  “Is it really?” She turned to face him, resting a bent leg in front of her on the couch. “Can you honestly say that you never think about it?”

  His jaw shifted. “I think about it every day.”

  “When you answered my first question about what you wanted more than anything, what was your answer?”

  His gaze lowered to her leg.

  “Do you want to get even, Robby? It would be understandable if you did.”

  He leaned forward and tugged gently on her big toe. “If I tell you, ye’ll have to give me yer answers, too.”

  She bit her lip. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

  He wrapped his hand around her ankle and squeezed. His green eyes locked on hers, glimmering with emotion. “I want revenge. My worst fear is that I willna get revenge, and no, it willna make me a better person.”

  She swallowed hard. “So you still intend to do it?”

  He nodded slowly. “Do ye think that makes me a bad person?” He trailed his fingers up her calf.

  She watched his hand as it slowly approached her knee. Oh, he could definitely be bad. And she’d like it. “I think it means you’re human. And you suffered more than physical injury.”

  “It was humiliating,” he whispered as he stroked the tender crease behind her knee.

  She was having trouble concentrating. “There’s a famous saying by Eleanor Roosevelt. I–I can’t recall the exact words, but it’s something like, no one can make you feel inferior without your permission.”

  He sat back, withdrawing his hand from her leg. “I like that. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He slanted her a curious look. “For someone who dinna want to be my therapist, ye’re doing a great job.”

  She grinned. It was about the best compliment she could ever receive. “It’s a good thing I’m not your therapist. Otherwise, it would be totally unethical for me to be involved with you.”

  With a smile, he touched her hair. “So ye want to be involved with me?”

  Heat rushed to her face. “I think I already am.”

  His smile widened and he coiled one of her curls around a finger. “Yer turn now. What do ye want more than anything?”

  “A long, happy life. I’m not quite sure what that would entail, though.”

  “A long life,” he murmured, and released her hair. “And what was your greatest fear?”

  This was the part she didn’t want to talk about. She turned to face the fireplace. “Apples.”

  “The fruit?”

  “Yes.” She drew her legs up in front of her, hugging her knees. “He sends me apples. Big red ones in a box. First he sent them to my office. Then he sent them to my apartment. I moved to another apartment, but he found me.”

  “Who is he?”

  She shuddered. “Otis Crump. I even moved to a safe house, but the apples still came.”

  Robby moved closer to her on the couch. “He must be following you.”

  “He can’t. He’s in Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary. In solitary confinement.”

  “He’s ordering the apples from prison?”

  “There’s no record or proof of that.”

  “Then how can ye be sure he’s the one sending them?”

  She closed her eyes briefly. Don’t make me explain it. It’s too awful. “Believe me, it’s him.”

  Robby touched her shoulder. “I believe you. He must have an accomplice.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “That’s what I thought, but my supervisor thinks I’m…overreacting. That’s why he sent me away, so I could calm down. Regain some perspective.”

  “Ye were a wee bit vocal in stating yer opinion?”

  “More than a ‘wee’ bit. I was
told I was being paranoid.”

  Robby smiled. “Och, we have so much in common.”

  She snorted. “Thanks.”

  “I still think yer prisoner has an accomplice.”

  “I agree, but I don’t know how. He’s been in solitary for two years. They monitor all his mail. I’ve questioned him about it, but it’s hard to tell now when he’s lying. He scatters just enough truth and half-truths into everything he says, that I can’t tell what’s what anymore. He—he enjoys playing with me.”

  “Does he know about yer gift?”

  “He figured it out after the first few times I caught him lying. He…he finds me fascinating.”

  “Bugger,” Robby muttered, then rose to his feet. He paced toward the fireplace, then turned. “Doona see him again.”

  “If I’m ordered to—”

  “What crime did he commit?” Robby interrupted.

  “He raped and murdered at least thirteen women.”

  Robby grimaced. “He’s a bloody monster. Why did ye ever see him?”

  “He was convicted on three murders, but we suspected he’d committed other homicides in several states. It was my job to get him to confess. He’d been in solitary for so long, he really looked forward to our meetings. He kept dropping hints that he would tell me more if I continued to see him.”

  “He was manipulating you.”

  Olivia sighed. “I know. We all knew, but my supervisor wanted me to play along. Otis is very proud of what he did.” She shook her head, wishing she could block out the images. “We knew he’d want to brag about it eventually.”

  Robby sat next to her on the couch. “What happened?”

  She focused on the fire in the hearth. “He promised to tell me everything if I would just bring an apple to our next meeting. A big red apple and a paring knife. He watched from behind the glass while I peeled it. And he…”

  How could she admit that the monster had ejaculated in her presence? Or that he’d described to her in great detail how he’d tortured the girls, using a paring knife just like she had.

  She covered her face, but the gruesome images still haunted her. Tears burned her eyes. “That’s how I know he’s the one sending the apples. He wants me to go back to see him. He—he’s obsessed with me.”