Their host greeted them and offered refreshments to Dante, who accepted a cordial of wine. Alex handed over the provenance papers and excused himself to the bathroom, where he removed the ring and placed it in the box. When he returned, he joined d’Iberville and Dante on a tour of the house. Dante was speaking French with their host, and this seemed to please him.
The smell of fine wine and cigars permeated the room as Alex stood and listened to their chatter when the tour had concluded. Dante was standing with his arms crossed, an empty cordial glass in one hand. His full attention was on his host, and he spoke and nodded at appropriate times. Alex was fluent in French, but remained an observer because he loved seeing how easily Dante had charmed this wealthy scion who was considered difficult.
Another gemologist, dressed in a light blue suit and tie, was present, and when Alex presented the ring, he confirmed the item as the one purchased at auction. As their host signed a receipt for the ring and its provenance, Dante and the jeweler discussed some of the more famous pieces designed by the earlier Buceletti men. Then Alex and Dante said their good-byes.
Alex opened the car door for Dante and closed it when he was seated. Walking to the driver’s side, Alex paused for a moment to listen for the dogs. Instead, he felt a ripple of darkness touch his senses. He shut his eyes and extended his awareness to be sure he was not mistaken. Again, he felt the darkness ripple through him—sick and dangerous.
The deep-throated barks of the unleashed Dobermans broke into his consciousness as they rang out in the moist night air. The dogs raced toward him. Alex slid into the car and started the motor. Relief that they were safe rolled through him as he drove through the gates and headed back to N’Orlins, as the natives called New Orleans. But the danger he’d felt a few moments ago had had nothing to do with the challenging dogs.
“Can we talk now?” Dante interrupted his thoughts.
“I’ve reserved a private room at the SoDec Club where you can eat. It will be easier to talk without the usual club noise. However, as I stood outside the car after shutting your door, I sensed something sick and evil. It was mild, and I have no way of knowing what caused it or even if it was a threat to us.”
“Giacomo,” Dante said in a flat, dull voice as he stared straight ahead.
“Possibly. If so, he is not in New Orleans. And if he is in Louisiana, why would he not be where we are? I think we must not conclude something that may not be.”
Alex returned the company car to the garage, and they unloaded and replaced their weapons in the gun vault in the CEO’s office. At the club, Alex handed over his keys to a young valet. As the red car disappeared around one corner of the club, Alex strained and opened his senses as far as he could.
Nothing.
Dante watched him, his face furrowed with concern. “Anything?”
Alex shook his head. He clasped Dante’s hand, enthralled as always with how warm and alive it felt, and they entered the club. He kept his voice low so as not to compete with the background noises, and the host leaned in to hear as Alex placed their orders.
After the host had written down their selections, he led them to the small room they had engaged, opened the door and closed it after them.
Alex was pleased with the tasteful décor of paneled walls and a couch and chairs covered in muted green plaid. A thick, emerald-colored rug on the hardwood floor lay beneath a table and chairs. Overhead a ceiling fan turned in the humid night. In a bowl on the table next to the couch, foil packets of condoms filled it to the brim. A toilet and washbasin were hidden discreetly behind a door formed by three of the panels.
He sank onto the couch and waited while Dante used the facilities. He came out while still wiping his hands with a linen hand towel, which he dropped into a wicker basket. From a crystal decanter on the table, he filled a glass with water and drank it down. Alex never tired of this man, and as he watched Dante, he felt love emerge. He motioned for Dante to join him, then put an arm around his shoulder and drew him close.
“You were a big hit with d’Iberville tonight. Walton will be pleased with my report.”
Dante leaned around and kissed Alex, his mouth wet and cool from his drink. “Won’t he consider that opinion a bit biased?”
“Hmm, I love how you taste. Love the way the corners of your mouth crinkle when you smile. Hank will ask d’Iberville his opinion, too.” Alex loved the smell of Dante, the firm feel of his well-developed shoulders.
Dante drew back. “Talk to me, Alexandros. Share this thing that requires a private room.”
“When I begged you to move here, I did not count on the count’s response to you. Although I should have since you have the same effect on me. And now there is the question of Giacomo, whom I assumed the prince’s men would have captured by this time.”
“When after two months we hadn’t heard from him, I expected that, too.”
Alex released Dante and stood to pace the room. “If the count wants you, he will have to fight me. Do not let that femme glam thing fool you—de Bienville’s a formidable swordsman.” He knelt at Dante’s feet and took him by the hands, looking into his dark eyes and holding his gaze, wanting to smooth away the worry in his face when he knew he couldn’t. “I can protect you from one menace, but if Giacomo is here, I cannot protect you from both. My lover, I want you to consider returning to Italy to be safe.”
Dante started to protest, but Alex said, “I am not ordering you to do this. I am saying we must discuss it.”
Dante’s warm palms and fingers cupped Alex’s face, and he kissed him. “I haven’t had the courage to tell you I doubted my love when I came here. I didn’t plan to stay long. With a razor and handcuffs, you broke through my refusal to admit I really love you. Today, I know I belong here with you. Now you want to send me away? Oh, my lover, I think not.”
“But—”
“If I return to Florence, what’s to keep the count from going there—where you wouldn’t be around to protect me from his advances—if that’s his intent? What’s to keep our vampire enemy from avoiding you and coming after me? Me and my fish server for protection, is that what you’re thinking?”
Alex’s chest almost exploded as happiness wiped out fear and everything else Dante had said. “Are you telling me you want to live with me?”
“Hell yes, I want to live with you. Isn’t that what I said?” He pulled Alex up into his lap, over his swelling cock and rubbed Alex’s instant erection, so wonderfully hard beneath his touch. “I don’t know what I’d do apart from you. Two months was too long, and I refuse to let you send me away.”
Alex’s hungry mouth devoured Dante’s, seeking the taste and heat of him. As their hunger for each other grew, he got to his feet. Reaching into the nearby bowl, he selected a wrapped condom and ripped it open with his sharp teeth.
Dante was standing now, and Alex slid his hand under Dante’s belt, under his briefs and found what he wanted pointing up at him.
“That is so sexy,” Dante said, his voice rough with emotion.
Alex continued his journey, kissing Dante’s neck and flicking his tongue over it as he thumbed the crown of his lover’s cock. “You’re very wet,” he whispered. “I think I’d better do something about that.”
His gaze never left his human lover’s face as he stripped, carefully folding his clothes, every movement sensual and calculated. He danced toward Dante with his hands behind his neck, elbows out, thrusting his hips and his rock-hard erection at him.
Dante reached for his belt buckle, but Alex’s hands took over to release it himself. The sound of the zipper melded with the heavy breathing in the room and the smell of impending sex. Then the briefs and slacks were down and off. Alex took Dante’s cock and the thin thread of cum spiraling out of the slit into his mouth and sucked, making guttural sounds of pleasure. “I love the taste of this, but we don’t want to muss your trousers. I want to dance with you after dinner.”
Withdrawing his mouth, he unrolled the condom over the stiff pri
ck an inch at a time. Then he nudged Dante onto his back on the table and climbed on top of him. Straddling him, careful not to crush him with his weight, he settled his ass and the tender area leading to his sac right over Dante’s shaft and tip. Slowly, slowly, he slid up and back, over and over, stimulating both of them, until Dante grew restless and grabbed the edge of the table as he strained against that most sensitive part of Alex’s body. Then he groaned as his back arched and he came.
Alex felt his fangs extend, but he came—without piercing, without tasting blood. He didn’t want Dante’s neck marked when they danced, but even without it, an overpowering sweetness welled up in him when he exploded.
Giacomo must not win. He must not.
They had dressed by the time a waiter knocked discreetly at the door and delivered their food. Dante tore into a crusty po’ boy of Louisiana French bread stuffed with fried shrimp, oysters, and soft shell crab. To that, he added a salad and a glass of white wine. When he’d finished, he leaned back in his chair. “That was so good I don’t think I’ll ever eat again.”
Alex sat on the couch and drank a bottle of blood, relishing how much Dante enjoyed the local cuisine. Seeing how he’d adapted to this country, this very special city he loved, pleased him.
“This room is ours for the evening,” Alex told him as they left the room and the door closed and automatically locked behind them. They climbed to the dance area. “If you’d like to watch exotic dancing by guys on stage, we’ll have to go up one more flight. Here it’s just a DJ and dancing.”
Dante took his hand and led him onto the dance floor. “My exotic dancer’s right here in front of me. I have no need of another.”
Alex grinned, unable to restrain his emotions.
People were twirling and dipping into each other to an upbeat tempo. They stopped at one point and made their way to a bar where Dante ordered a scotch on the rocks. Then they stepped out onto a balcony for fresh air and to be away from people banging into each other.
“Look…we can see stars tonight,” Dante said from a spot at the railing as he nursed his drink. “There’s Orion.”
Alex stood behind him and placed a hand on the railing on either side of him. Dante leaned back into him until their bodies touched. Comfortable and relaxed, they identified what constellations they could.
When a slight unease niggled at Alex, he dismissed it as nothing. Had it been Giacomo triggering something in him, it would have been big and dark and ugly. Dante had finished his drink. Alex took his hand and they returned to the dance floor.
Eventually, they dimmed the lights for a slow dance, and he took Dante into his arms and they kissed, eyes closed.
Alex felt a tap on his shoulder. His eyes flew open as he heard a too-familiar voice.
“May I cut in?”
They stopped.
Dante’s eyes widened as the count made a sultry, sensual appraisal of his body and addressed him directly. “May I have this dance?”
Alex mentally kicked himself. Fool that he’d been, he should have known the feeling of unease was a warning to leave immediately to avoid unpleasantness. He hadn’t connected it to the count, and now he knew he’d sensed the impending arrival of Jean de Bienville. He held his breath to hear what Dante would say.
Dante’s smile was polite, not welcoming, but without offense. He’d folded his arms across his chest. “I believe you must make your request through my protector?”
The count’s brows drew together, then he laughed hard and loud. “Vous m’avez touché, Dante.”
“Mon seigneur.” Dante bobbed his head, his smile broad. His reply indicated he’d known very well that his response had been a blunt sword point touching the count in their little fencing match.
Turning to Alex, the count said, “I request permission to dance with Monsieur Rocco.”
Wanting to knock him across the room, Alex said, “Of course, my lord.” Helpless to do anything but consent because this was his leader in Louisiana, and vampire law everywhere required submission, he inclined his head to show a respect he didn’t feel and walked to the sidelines to watch.
Thank Christos, Dante has the silver server. Then he remembered it was in his jacket pocket stashed in their room. Shit.
At least the count’s attire was less flamboyant this evening. He wore heavy eye makeup and his earrings and nail polish, but his hair wasn’t gelled or swept into a bizarre style. He was dressed in dark blue, a color that flattered his pale skin and dark hair, and there was no mistaking how handsome he was.
Red flashed from a big ruby set in a gold ring on his right hand. Alex’s jaw hardened when he noticed his bracelet on Jean’s arm. The count had already skirted the fringes of the law by approaching Dante directly rather than through him. Alex’s smile was strained as he remembered how Dante had called Jean’s bluff with a cool slickness. And he’d gotten away with it.
At first, the human and the immortal had danced separately, but now de Bienville began to dance around Dante like a peacock attracting a mate. Dante ignored him by keeping his gaze on the floor, but when the count came around in front and shimmied and humped toward him in a blatantly sexual way, Alex stiffened and started to plunge onto the dance floor.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder. “He’s baiting you,” Malcolm’s low voice said in his ear. “Don’t play his game. You don’t want to fight him, do you? All kinds of complications in that.”
“Right—and no winners.” Rage was probably making his eyes red. That would be a sure giveaway he wasn’t controlling himself.
“Dante can handle himself with that vamp.”
“When did you arrive?”
“I came in behind the count. Didn’t know you were here. You two made the delivery to d’Iberville?”
Alex nodded. Thanks to Malcolm, his emotions were stabilizing. At molasses speed, but ebbing. Malcolm knew about Giacomo, so Alex explained what he’d felt in the yard of the plantation as they were leaving. “I don’t sense Giacomo here, so I don’t know what I felt. But Dante and I went out on the balcony a while back and I sensed something else that was quite mild. Now I think it must have heralded the impending arrival of our leader there.” He couldn’t keep the derision from his tone.
Again came the low voice next to his ear. “Careful. His men have big ears and acute hearing.”
The dance ended, and Alex saw the count say something to Dante. Dante nodded, dipped his head slightly and then made his way through the other dancers to Alex.
The count and his entourage walked past Alex. “Thank you,” de Bienville said to him and left the room.
Alex smiled in relief. Perhaps this would be the end of Jean’s fascination with Alex’s Italian lover. The familiar happiness rushed through his chest and his entire being as Dante came to him. Alex looked into his eyes and his voice was husky as he said, “Hi.”
Dante took his hand and brushed his lips across Alex’s. “Hi, yourself.” Then he turned and greeted Malcolm. “When did you arrive?”
The three of them talked for a short time, then Malcolm excused himself with a twinkle in his eye. “Although I suspect I may see some here, I think I’ll go upstairs and watch what I know for sure will be dirty dancing.”
They laughed together.
Another slow tune started.
“Come,” Dante said. “I missed you.” He dragged Alex to the dance floor, where he wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist.
Dante’s heat flowed into him, causing Alex’s cold dick to warm and waken. In his lover’s arms again, he forgot his anger, his cock alive and wanting, their cheeks touching in a tight embrace.
“Kiss me,” Dante said, when the lights dimmed.
Alex closed on a mouth that invited him in, and his tongue penetrated as he sought the wet inner warmth, the taste that was uniquely Dante. His full cock found Dante’s erection through their slacks, and he began to rock side to side in time to the music.
Dante broke the kiss to whisper, “Keep that up and I’m going
to ruin my slacks.”
“Forget the slacks.” Alex clamped his hands on the butt he loved and pressed harder as their kisses became more urgent and raw. He slid his hand inside Dante’s pants and found bare skin and a swollen cock. His fingers pulled and stroked.
Dante gasped. “Here? With all these people around us?”
“Sexy, isn’t it?” came Alex’s husky response as he continued to stroke.
Dante’s hand had found its way to Alex’s cock as well and he rubbed faster and harder. The music still played as Alex sensed they were both on the brink of reaching for the night stars.
“Come for me, my lover,” Alex whispered against Dante’s lips as he thumbed the tender under lip of the fat erection in his hand. When he felt his partner’s body stiffen and the spasms begin, he covered Dante’s mouth and let his groan be muffled against his throat even as his own was.
The music ended. The lights would come up any minute.
“What now?” Dante asked as he removed his hand from Alex’s waning erection.
Alex had removed his hand from Dante’s underwear. “Let’s just stand here until another song begins.”
“And then hurry before someone smells sex?”
Alex grinned as the lights came up and the DJ slipped another CD into the player. They walked arm in arm to their room as bodies began to gyrate to the new fast tune.
Inside, Dante stepped out of his slacks and briefs and would have rolled up the latter and taken them home, but Alex suggested he discard them. Alex stepped up beside him in the tiny bathroom and held out his palm, and Dante smiled as he saw his jism in it. They washed up together.
“Let’s go home”—Dante said—“I have no underwear.”
They laughed together so hard tears squeezed out of Dante’s eyes. Alex held back a little because his tears would be bloody, and that wasn’t in keeping with their lightheartedness.
Alex turned the car toward home and they drove in silence for a time, riding with the top up for a change. Dante broke the quiet with, “Why is it called ‘SoDec’?”
Night Train to New Orleans Page 7
