He reached out and caught the length of her hair in his hand, bringing her to an abrupt halt. “Do not worry about the police, Alexandria. They will not ask you anything about the vampires. They have no idea they were vampires, and they believe you were in a hospital. If they ask, just tell them you do not remember anything.”
She was quiet a moment as she arranged the roses. He could sense her unease. “Aidan? Can I leave here? Would you let me go?”
Involuntarily his hand tightened in her hair. He let his breath out slowly. “What brought this on,
piccola?”
“I just want to know. You said I wasn’t a prisoner here. Can I come and go as I please?” Her teeth were tugging at her full lower lip.
“Are you planning on dating this joker?”
“I want to know if I can leave this house.”
He wrapped an arm around her slender waist and pulled her against his hard frame. “Do you think you could survive without me?” His mouth was close enough to her neck that she could feel the warmth of his breath. Despite her every intention not to respond, her body caught fire.
Her sapphire eyes searched his face. He gave nothing away; she had no idea what he was thinking, and she wasn’t going to merge her mind with his to find out. He was drawing her deeper and deeper into his world, a world of the night. A world of sexuality and violence. Alexandria wanted her old life back. She wanted familiar things around her, things she had some control over.
His perfect mouth touched her throat. A brush of flame. His golden gaze met her eyes. “Do not ask questions you do not really want the answer to. I will not lie to you, even to make it easier.”
She closed her eyes as warmth flooded her body. He made her feel cherished. Made her feel beautiful. Made her feel unfulfilled and empty without him. Her fingers tightened around the stem of one of the roses. She jerked her hand away with a little cry, cradling one finger.
“Let me see,” he said softly. His voice was tender, his touch gentle as he pulled her hand to him for his inspection. A pinprick of blood welled up from her index finger. “Sir Galahad left a thorn,” he murmured as he bent his head and took her finger into the healing heat of his mouth.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her body blazed with need. She stood as still as she could, watching him the way a cornered mouse does a cat. He had already taken over her life. It was there in her mind, in her body, her terrible need of him. She wanted to cry. Even if she managed to escape, to somehow get Joshua out and run away from him, she would carry him with her everywhere she went.
Abruptly she jerked her hand away from him before the flames leapt any higher. “His name is Thomas Ivan, not Sir Galahad, and I doubt very much if he personally took the thorns from the roses.”
Aidan nodded solemnly. “You are right,
piccola
. He would not think of such a thing himself, nor would he perform the task. He would think it beneath him and a waste of his time.” He reached around her and removed the thorn, then examined each stem carefully to assure himself she would not get hurt again.
“Why do you have to make him sound so petty?” she demanded, exasperated. She was determined to be attracted to Ivan. Women all over the world had multiple lovers. If other women could be attracted to more than one man in a lifetime, so could she. It didn’t have to be just Aidan Savage. He was worldly, sensuous, impossibly attractive with those haunting eyes and that perfect mouth. Any woman might fall for him, but all it was physical attraction. She could get over it like a bad case of the flu. A virulent case of the flu.
Aidan turned away from her to stare out the window. He didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry at her wild thoughts. She was so determined to find someone, anyone, other than him.
“Aidan?” Stefan walked in. “I informed the police that you and Alexandria had returned and that she would be up to speaking with them this morning. I made certain they understood she would be unable to go to the station or even to stay up long. They’re sending a couple of detectives over now.”
“Detectives?” Aidan raised an eyebrow. “For so trivial a matter?”
Stefan cleared his throat and shifted his weight uneasily. “I believe Mr. Ivan has some political pull. He went above the department’s head and even, according to the detective I spoke with yesterday, went so far as to check to see that all of us were in the country legally. I believe he wished to have us deported.”
Alexandria gasped, her chin lifting. “He did
what
?”
“I’m sorry, Alexandria, I should not have repeated that within your hearing. Mr. Ivan was terribly upset at not being able to get in touch with you,” Stefan said.
Aidan could have strangled the man for attempting to get Ivan off the hook. Alexandria had been annoyed. Without her even being aware of it, she was already thinking of the members of his household as part of her family.
“That is no excuse for Thomas to throw his weight around and try to get you and Marie deported. He didn’t even care about completely disrupting your lives. And what about Joshua? He would have had to go into a foster home.” Her anger at Thomas Ivan was rising. She detested people who thought they could have their way because they had money. Though she would never admit it to Aidan, never concede that tiny bit of power, she was less and less inclined to work with the man or be involved with him in any meaningful way. Surely she would find other creative outlets.
“Actually,” Stefan confessed, avoiding Aidan’s sharp gaze, “I believe it was Aidan he was more interested in deporting. He had an investigator run a background check on him, hoping, I think, to come up with some hint of criminal activities.
Unsavory
is the descriptive I believe he used.”
Alexandria bit back a sudden laugh. “Perhaps Thomas has more intuition than we gave him credit for.
Unsavory
is an apt word, don’t you think, Stefan? I wouldn’t mind having Aidan deported myself.”
“I think it would be prudent to retire to the kitchen and eat my breakfast, Alexandria,” Stefan said diplomatically.
“Your only choice,” Aidan growled.
Stefan grinned at him unrepentantly and paused in the doorway. “You might want to give Mr. Ivan a call, Alexandria. The detectives said it might stop him from harassing them every ten minutes.”
“He’s been calling them every ten minutes?” A slow smile curved her mouth. “He must really be worried. Isn’t that sweet, Aidan? He’s worried about me. He must really want me to work for him. What a break. With the money he pays me, Joshua and I can...” She trailed off, looked quickly up at Aidan.
His hand curled around the nape of her neck, his fingers moving in a soothing massage. “I am proud of you, Alexandria. Your work must be extraordinary to have Ivan after you to this extent. You deserve to feel good about yourself.” He didn’t believe for one moment that Ivan’s interest in her was purely business, but he knew she was truly talented. Aidan was a shadow in her mind, seeing her vivid pictures spring to life in her imagination.
She smiled up at him. “I used to dream about working for Thomas Ivan. His company is always on the leading edge of graphic designs, and his games are like full-length movies. When the rumor hit the street that he might be looking for another graphic designer, I started sketching night and day. I didn’t believe I’d really get a chance to show him my work, let alone that he would want to hire me.”
“From what I saw of your drawings, you are very talented,” he acknowledged softly. “But perhaps you might want to correct some of his false impressions of vampires.” Her eyes flashed at him, but a dimple deepened in her cheek. “Make them more ruthless and merciless, you mean?” she asked mischievously. She touched the petals of the nearest rose and bent once more to inhale their fragrance. “I can’t believe he sent me flowers.”
A rude noise escaped from somewhere deep in Aidan’s throat. “I just saved your life. What are roses compared to that?” He was glar
ing at the long-stemmed flowers, his golden gaze intense and menacing.
Alexandria glanced up at him, saw the dark, determined set of his mouth, and burst out laughing. She spun around and went up on her toes to cover his eyes with her palm. “Don’t you dare. If my roses wither, I’ll know exactly who’s responsible. I mean it, Aidan. You leave my flowers alone. You can probably destroy the entire bouquet with one ferocious glance.”
Her body was soft against his, her laughter warm against his throat. His arm circled her small waist, locking her to him. “I was only going to make them droop a little. Nothing too dramatic.”
His velvet voice turned her heart over. Little butterfly wings were brushing at her stomach. She could feel his muscles, hard and masculine, imprinted on her form. Why did her body have to melt every time she came into contact with him? Even when he was being bad, a petulant, jealous child, he made her laugh. Why did all this have to be happening with him?
“I’m going to take my hand off your eyes, but you aren’t even to look at my roses. If I catch you...” She trailed off, meaning to intimidate him. Slowly her palm slid from his eyes, her fingers accidentally touching his mouth. At once her heart slammed hard against his. Or was it his heart slamming against hers? She didn’t know, but the electricity was crackling, and he was too close.
“Don’t you dare, Aidan.” She made it an order. His eyes had gone hot, liquid gold, blazing possessively down into hers, melting her insides.
“Dare what?” he whispered, his sorcerer’s voice slipping under her skin like a flame. His gaze was so intense, she felt the same flames licking along her nerve endings.
His mouth was now mere inches away. Her tongue touched her lower lip. Enticed him. Tempted him. She closed her eyes as his mouth came down on hers. Fire swept through her, consumed her. His arms crushed her to him, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but his perfect mouth and the earth moving beneath her feet.
She belonged to him, with him. There could never be another. Only Aidan. Only the two of them together. She was his.
The words beat in her head, imprinting themselves forever on her heart. On her soul. Alexandria reluctantly pulled her mouth from his, burying her face on his chest. “You aren’t playing fair, Aidan,” she said, the words muffled in his shirt.
The warmth of his breath touched her neck. “This is no game,
cara
. It never has been.” His mouth closed over her pulse, sending it racing. “This is for all time.”
“I have no idea what to do with you. I don’t even know if you mean the things you say.” The confusion in her mind was very real. He was swamping her, giving no relief, no time to figure things out for herself.
That wasn’t what Aidan wanted. Alexandria needed to trust him, to see him as a friend as well as a lover. The urgent demands of his body and nature gave them very little time, but he was determined to make the most of it. She could laugh at him, make him laugh at himself. It was a start to friendship. Slowly, reluctantly, his arms released her, and he stepped away, providing a measure of relief for both of them.
“Thomas Ivan needs to be taken out and shot,” he said deliberately to make her smile. “He’s a spoiled brat who made too much money too fast.”
She relaxed visibly. “I wonder if he thinks the same thing about you.”
“With his vivid imagination, he probably envisions a stake through my heart,” he muttered. “That man has a sick mind, to make up all that nonsense. Did you happen to pick up his last game, the one with the vampires and their army of women slaves?”
“Well, it’s obvious you have,” she pointed out, pouncing on that. “Secretly you probably love his games. I’ll bet you own every one.” Her eyes widened, and a slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. “You do, don’t you, Savage? You have all his games. You’re a secret fan.”
He nearly choked. “A fan? That man could not find the truth if it was staring him right in the face. As it was the other evening.”
She raised an eyebrow. “His games are fiction, Savage. No truth intended. Only imagination. That’s why they’re entertainment, not truth. Admit it, you like his games.”
“It is never going to happen, Alexandria, so do not hold your breath. And another thing—when you talk to that pompous ass on the phone, do not go all syrupy.” He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her from his superior height.
“Syrupy?” she echoed indignantly, outraged at the accusation. “I never sound syrupy.” Her large eyes flashed a warning at him, daring him to pursue his point.
He dared to. “Oh, yes, you do.” He clasped his hands together and made a face, his voice rising an octave as he simpered. “Oh, Marie, the flowers are so beautiful. Thomas Ivan gave them to me.” He rolled his eyes as he mimicked her.
“I did not say that! And I never act that way. For some reason, you just can’t bring yourself to admit you like Ivan’s games. It must be some macho kind of nonsense, although a lot of men play them and enjoy them.”
“They are pure trash,” he insisted. “And there is not a grain of truth or sense in any of them. He romanticizes vampires. It would be interesting to see what he thought if he was introduced to one.” It was a veiled threat, nothing less. Aidan fairly purred with satisfaction at the mere thought of it.
Alexandria was horrified. “You wouldn’t dare! Aidan, I mean it, don’t you even think about doing something so evil.”
“Was it not you who said there was no such thing as a vampire?” he inquired innocently, his white teeth very much in evidence.
His mouth again. She found herself staring up at it, fascinated. His smile had softened its lines into pure sensuality. She blinked to bring perspective back into her life. He should be outlawed.
His smile widened, dispelling any hint of cruelty, and he leaned close to her. “Remember, I can read your mind,
piccola.”
Her blue eyes flashed at him, and one small fist thumped the middle of his chest. Hard. “Well, stop it. And don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t exactly giving you compliments.”
“No?” His hand touched her face tenderly. “Keep fighting, Alexandria. It will not do you any good, but if it makes you feel better, go ahead.”
“Arrogant, primeval ape,” she sniffed, turning away before he could read her need of him in her eyes. She deliberately went to the telephone. “I believe you have Thomas’s number?”
He reached around her, his arm brushing her shoulders, his scent enveloping her. Any of his kind would recognize his brand, would know she belonged to him just from his scent on her. The human, however, would never notice. Irritated by the thought, Aidan found the business card beneath the phone and handed it to her.
“Call him,” he dared softly.
Her chin went up. She was human. She would be human. Even if she wasn’t, this... this creature, whatever he was, would not rule her life. Defiantly she stabbed at the buttons on the phone.
To Alexandria’s amazement, Thomas himself answered. It seemed so out of character. “Thomas? This is Alexandria Houton,” she said hesitantly, not certain, now that she had him, what to say. “I hope it isn’t too early to call.”
“Alexandria! Thank God! I was beginning to think that man had you locked up in a dungeon somewhere. Are you all right? Do you want me to come and get you?”
Thomas sat up, pushing at the hair falling across his forehead. The sheets had wound around him so tightly for a moment, he had to fight just to move.
“No, no, I’m fine. Well, still a bit shaky, and I have to rest a lot, but I’m doing much better. Thank you for the roses. They’re beautiful.” She was acutely aware of Aidan standing close to her, listening to every word, listening to the tone of her voice. She had an impulse to try for syrupy. The man had no right monitoring her personal conversations.
“I’m coming over, Alexandria. I have to see you.” Thomas said it almost belligerently, determined not to be denied.
“I believe I have an interview wit
h a couple of detectives this morning,” she said in a gentle reprimand.
Beside her Aidan stirred restlessly. Her voice was far too soft for his liking. Far too sexy. She was a Carpathian now, with all the sensuality and the mesmerizing effect on humans of one born to his kind.
Aidan’s subtle, possessive movement brought his body even closer, and she could smell his scent. It invaded her very being, sending liquid warmth pooling unexpectedly in her midsection. Alexandria hunched her shoulders and stepped away, backing up against the antique cherry-wood piece the phone rested on.
“I was so worried, Alexandria. And that strange man. How well do you know him?” Thomas had lowered his voice to a conspirator’s whisper.
Alexandria was acutely aware that it did not matter how quietly Thomas spoke. Her own hearing was so sharp now that she could hear at great distances if she chose. It only stood to reason that Aidan’s hearing would be even more intense and his ability to control it far better than hers. She felt color wash into her face.
“You don’t know Aidan at all, Thomas. You barely know me. We only met for one dinner, and that was interrupted. Please don’t say things against someone who has been a great friend to me.” For some unknown reason, Thomas’s slights against Aidan annoyed her, but it was the last thing she wanted Aidan to know.
“You’re very young, Alexandria. You’ve probably never met a man of his caliber before. Believe me, he’s way out of your league. He’s likely very dangerous.”
Her fingers tightened around the receiver until her knuckles whitened.
What did Ivan know? And, therefore, how much danger might Aidan be in
? Her teeth bit down hard on her lower lip. She really couldn’t bear it if someone suspected the truth and... and drove a stake through his heart or something. She might not want to feel that way, she might even be betraying mankind, but she couldn’t help herself. The idea of losing him was terrifying.
Aidan reached around her and gently covered her hand with his. In her mind danced the image of a shark with Thomas Ivan’s white, practiced smile. Deliberately Aidan teased her with the image until she was forced to laugh.
Dark Gold (Dark Series - book 3) Page 19
