Suddenly fear was my chief emotion. My lungs constricted. What was I doing? This man was a vampire—and I was about to go off with him and his two goons.
I gripped the doorframe and looked wildly around.
“It is your choice.” Remy’s voice was even. “Until you sign the contract, you can change your mind. This I swear to you on my honor as a de la Lune.”
“Right.” I expelled a breath and, reminding myself that I had no choice, got inside.
As the chauffeur eased the limo onto the street, Remy spoke to the large man riding shotgun. “Malik? You have directed that Oakley be paid?”
“Oui, monsieur. He should have the money by now.”
“Text the information to Star as well. You have her number, oui?”
Malik nodded and took out his phone.
While they were talking, I looked through my backpack. Antoine had rifled through it, but he hadn’t taken anything. My fingers closed on my cell phone like it was a lifeline. At least I could call 911 if things got bad. Sure, the police were no match for a vampire, but I was pretty sure there was some kind of human-vampire treaty that meant Remy would be in deep shit if he killed a cop.
My companion raised a single black brow. “Calm yourself, Star. For the last time, you aren’t in any danger.”
My face heated, but I didn’t release my grip on the phone. “What are you, a mind reader?”
Remy shrugged and changed the subject. “You won’t need to go home,” he said, looking me up and down with a practiced eye. He was too polite to say anything, but you didn’t have to be a genius to know my outfit wasn’t up to his standards. “I will supply everything you need.”
“But what about my apartment?” I had a deal with my landlords where I paid cash in return for a fifty-dollar reduction on the rent. “I can’t just leave for thirty days. I have to pay my rent on June first. If I don’t, I’ll lose everything.”
Remy waved a long-fingered hand. “Contact your landlords. Tell them they will be paid as usual.”
I called Jim, the more laidback of the couple. It was after two in the morning, so he didn’t answer, but I left a message explaining I had a job offer that was taking me away for a month.
“I’ll make sure you get the June rent,” I promised with a glance at Remy. He nodded, and I continued, “Just please leave everything where it is.”
That taken care of, I put the phone back into my pack. I didn’t care about my things so much as the paintings. They represented months of work. I didn’t just paint, I glued objects to the canvas, ripped up photos and attached them here and there. The result was big, crazy-colored paintings—each at least a yard high and a couple of yards across. Someday I was going to get up the courage to show them to a gallery owner.
“First, the contract,” Remy said. “That will make you feel safer, yes?”
“It will—thank you.” The tension in my shoulders eased a bit.
Our first stop was outside an elegant brick town house in Bolton Hill. Remy led the way up the steps. The interior was huge, with those pre-war details that people love: high ceilings, hardwood floors, arched windows and a marble fireplace in the large front room where Remy took me.
A tall blonde who could’ve doubled for Samantha from Sex in the City rose to greet us. I took in her perfect hair, perfect makeup and sexy little champagne-colored dress, and smoothed down my skirt, feeling like the thrift-shop refugee I was.
The blonde gave Remy her hand. He pressed a kiss to the back like he had to mine, but I noticed he released it quickly.
“You are looking well, Madame Angelique.”
She inclined her head and turned to me. “This is Miss Salazar?”
“Yes,” he said, and introduced us, adding, “The contract is ready?”
Angelique frowned. “This is most irregular, Monsieur de la Lune.”
I looked from her to Remy. What did she mean?
“You know how it works,” Angelique continued. “I find the girls, and I vet them and send them to our clients.”
He quirked a single black brow. “But for me, you will make an exception, oui?”
She pursed her lips. “It will cost you.”
“No matter. Do it, or I will be most unhappy.”
At the steel in his tone, she stilled. “Of course, sir.”
The vampire turned to me. “I will leave you with Madame Angelique now so that she can explain the terms to you. This is acceptable?”
I nodded. Right then I would’ve agreed to almost anything. I half-believed I was dreaming. From the moment I’d been accused of stealing in Oakley’s office, things had gotten stranger and stranger. The silver limo. The money Remy was willing to pay for me. The expensive blonde in her expensive row home.
And Remy de la Lune himself. The rich, powerful vamp who was so desperate to have me.
I’d crossed my arms over my stomach to calm my uneasiness. Now I pinched my upper arm through the white shirt just to see if I would wake up in my attic on the east side.
But nothing happened except that Remy left the room, leaving me with Angelique.
“Why don’t you sit down?” She gestured at a pink brocade couch.
As I took a seat, I winced. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, I was feeling every blow Antoine had landed.
Angelique glanced at my swollen cheek and murmured, “I’ll be right back.” She returned a minute later with a gel ice pack. “I’m not going to ask if Remy did that,” she said, “because while he might be a cold S.O.B., I’ve never known him to hit a woman.”
I pressed the ice pack to my cheek. The throbbing eased a little and I gave a sigh of relief. “No,” I replied. “It wasn’t him.”
“Good. I wouldn’t think so, but he wants you—bad. And when Remy de la Lune wants something, he gets it. He’s lord of the largest clan in France, you know. A vampire count. He rules over five covens.”
“No. I didn’t know that.”
A frigging vampire count? Okay, this was officially Alice in Wonderland and I’d fallen down the rabbit hole.
Madam Angelique took a seat on the opposite side of the couch. “There is something I will ask. De la Lune—he hasn’t put a compulsion on you?”
“A compulsion?” My nape prickled. “You mean—forced me?”
“Yes or no?”
“No.” I shifted the ice pack to another part of my face. “I mean—I can’t be sure, can I? But he said it was my choice.”
She gave a satisfied nod. “Then he hasn’t compelled you. I wouldn’t trust any vampire when he’s after a blood courtesan, but Remy’s honest—at least for a vampire. If he said it was your choice, then it’s true.”
“What’s a compulsion?”
“Some vampires—the older, more powerful ones—can compel you to do their will.”
“And he’s one of those?”
“Remy de la Lune is one of the oldest and most powerful vampires in the world.”
Somehow that didn’t surprise me. I recalled that first morning when I’d felt his will beating against mine. And again tonight, when he’d forced me to calm down—although that had been for my own good. Still, I didn’t like the idea of him playing mind games with me.
“I’m pretty sure he’s tried it once or twice,” I said. “But not when he asked me to be his courtesan.”
“Good. Frankly, vampires prefer their woman—or man—willing. It affects your taste.”
“My…taste?” I swallowed dryly.
“Yes. They tell me every human has a slightly different flavor—and a vamp never forgets any of you. Remy knew from your scent that you and he would be a good match.” She smiled, not unkindly. “Don’t look so scared. Remy will make sure you enjoy it. Most women tell me they’d have stayed with him longer, but a month is the most he ever books a courtesan. Now”—she stood up and got two thick sheets from her desk—“here’s the contract. One for you, and one for Count de la Lune.”
She kept speaking, and I nodded as if I were paying attentio
n, but I was staring at the contract, handwritten on ivory parchment paper. The words danced before my eyes, but as far as I could tell it covered everything Remy and I had discussed: the money he’d paid for me, the bonus if I pleased him. In return, I was completely his for the next thirty days.
And then I was holding my copy of the contract in my hand. I must have signed it because there was my signature, and a minute later, when Remy returned, his bold scrawl beneath mine.
But I was still taking in the fact that I was prey. Something to be tasted—hunted.
And instead of running as hard as I could in the opposite direction, I’d just signed a contract with the hunter.
CHAPTER SIX: Remy
I held in my rage until Star was safely occupied by Angelique. Then I strode back outside to the limo and rapped out Malik’s name.
He scrambled out of the limo surprisingly fast for a big man and stood at attention, shoulders back, broad face wary.
I felt my eyes blaze a vampire-blue. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
He gulped. “I’m sorry, monsieur. I didn’t mean for her to be hurt.”
My hand latched on his throat. “You know I wanted her,” I gritted. “And you know damn well that meant undamaged.”
His gaze slid from mine. “I’m sorry,” he choked out.
“Sorry isn’t good enough. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here and now.”
His face was turning red. He clawed at my hand but I just squeezed harder.
“I can’t,” he gasped out, “but I swear…never again.”
He was telling the truth. I could tell by his scent, and from the blood bond between us which allowed me to sense stronger emotions, like right now when Malik reeked of fear. But there was no taint of a lie.
I slammed him against the side of the limo and released him. He slumped over, hands on his knees, his large body heaving for breath.
I stared down at his shaved head. “I’ll give you one more chance,” I growled. “But if it ever happens again, you’re dead.”
“Understood. And thank…you for your…mercy.”
He came upright and turned his head to one side, offering his neck in silent apology.
I made a noise of disgust. “You think I want your blood right now? Get back in the limo. The sight of you offends me.”
Hurt flashed across his face. He hung his head. “Yes, sir.”
“And Malik?”
His gaze shot up to mine. “Oui?”
“See to Antoine and Oakley. Only an animal hurts a woman like that. But don’t kill them. Just make them wish they were dead.”
Malik nodded eagerly. “Of course, sir. As soon as you’re safely at the hotel.”
I inclined my head curtly and walked back inside to find Star perched on the couch in that sexy red skirt that I couldn’t wait to remove.
I set Malik from my mind and allowed myself a small smile.
She was mine.
I watched impatiently as she signed the contract and then scrawled my name beneath hers. A dark satisfaction filled me as I ushered her back to the limousine.
It had been a long time since I’d wanted anyone that badly. And that in itself was…interesting.
It had been Malik who arranged for Star to be offered the job at Oakley’s, a club where I was a silent partner. And it was Malik who stole the money, then hired a hacker to doctor the security feed so it looked as if it had been Star.
I should’ve anticipated that Oakley’s man would rough her up. Before I realized what was happening, he’d tossed her into the alley. I’d rushed out of the club and around the side of the building to her.
The sight of her leaning brokenly against the fence, her soft skin marked by that bastard’s blows, caused an odd twist in the pit of my stomach. It took me a good half-minute to recognize what it was—guilt. Because no matter what Malik’s part in it, Star wouldn’t have been in that office in the first place if not for me.
I’d paid her debt immediately, and threw in a bonus on top. Because guilt—something I hadn’t experienced in a long, long time—was even less pleasant than I remembered.
In the front seat, Malik shifted uneasily. He’d failed me, and he knew it.
I sent him a last, cold look and then turned to smile at my pretty little companion. Malik would have to earn back my trust, but meanwhile, Star Salazar was mine.
* * *
It was four a.m. by the time we arrived at the Inner Harbor hotel I owned.
We rode the elevator up in silence. Star was staring at the elevator buttons as if her life depended on knowing which floor we were passing, and Malik knew better than to speak to me without permission.
I kept a penthouse suite for my own use on the top floor of the hotel. Malik went first, checking the living room, dining room and each of the three bedrooms for threats. No one lived as long as I had without making a few enemies. He ended in the master bedroom suite, where he turned on low lights in first the sitting room to our left, and then the spacious black-and-gold bedroom.
I leaned against a wall and watched Star take in the black lacquer furnishings, plush rugs and iron wall sconces. I might be a twenty-first-century vampire—with my far-flung business holdings, I’d had to adapt or die—but I had a weakness for the rich trappings of my youth.
Star’s gaze landed on a painting by a sixteenth-century Japanese artist. She inhaled sharply.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s the original. By Kanō Hideyori. Do you know him?”
She nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes.” She moved closer to the painting to examine it. “I just never thought I’d see one in person.”
“Non?” I raised a brow, intrigued that a cocktail waitress recognized a Hideyori. “I purchased it in the late 1800s.”
She tore her gaze from the painting to look at me with rounded eyes. “Seriously? How old are you?” Then she flushed. “Forget I asked.”
I moved closer. She tensed but held her ground. “All you need to know”—I tucked a shiny black strand of hair behind her ear—“is that I’m very, very old…but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen something as beautiful as you.”
Her tongue swiped over her red lips and my whole lower body tightened. I looked impatiently toward the master suite. What the hell was taking Malik, anyway?
Boots thumped in the hallway and Malik appeared in the doorway of the suite. “All clear, monsieur. Can I do anything else for you?”
I glanced at Star. “Perhaps Mademoiselle would like something to eat?”
“No thanks,” she said with a nervous twitch of her head. “I’m fine.”
I nodded and dismissed the big man. “Don’t disturb us until tomorrow afternoon,” I added, “unless absolutely necessary.”
He inclined his head, and then my new blood courtesan and I were alone.
Star swiped her palms over her skirt. Anxiety came off her in salty waves. Anxiety, but also arousal.
She slanted me a glance. I could almost hear her think: Tomorrow afternoon?
I set a hand on her nape and drew her toward me. She resisted briefly and then allowed me to pull her closer. I remained silent, massaging her nape until her breath soughed out.
I set my hand on her lower back and indicated the master bedroom. “After you, ma chérie.”
She squared her shoulders and entered the room like Marie Antoinette going to her execution.
I stifled a sigh. I knew I hadn’t imagined the arousal, but I could see I was going to have to calm the woman or she was going to fight this every step of the way.
Well, I’d had hundreds of years to learn patience.
I lit a couple of candles near the bed, then crossed to the large fruitwood cabinet and selected a well-aged cabernet sauvignon. I twisted the cork out with my own fingers and poured a healthy portion into each of two hand-blown glass goblets.
Star had crossed the plush rug to the windows overlooking the Inner Harbor. I’d designed the hotel to a vampire’s specifications. The
windows were a special smartglass that by day was tinted a dark gray to protect me and my kind from the direct sun, but by night was clear to allow unimpeded views of the sky and the harbor.
Taking the wine goblets, I joined Star at the windows. Seven stories below, the water was a dark mirror that reflected the nearby National Aquarium and its distinctive glass pyramids. To the east and south were the expensive condos which had sprouted in old waterfront neighborhoods that had once been so rough only crusty seamen and creatures of the night like myself could walk them unmolested.
Star’s silky hair fell forward over her shoulders to reveal a tempting slice of golden-brown skin. I pressed my lips to the side of her neck as I offered her one of the goblets.
“Something to relax you.”
She turned and accepted the wine, but instead of drinking, stared into the dark red liquid, unmoving as a small, terrified bird.
I felt another annoying twinge of guilt. I ignored it to set a finger under the goblet’s foot and nudged it toward her mouth. “Drink.”
She nodded jerkily and obeyed. The rare, expensive wine might as well have been a cheap house blend for all she tasted it. She took a second gulp, her soft throat working.
I took a sip of my own wine. It was exquisite, dry and perfectly aged. I rolled it around on my tongue and then set the goblet on a nearby table.
My pretty little victim sent me a wide-eyed glance and drained her goblet.
“Star.” I took the glass from her and set it on the table. “There is no need to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. I want only to give you pleasure.”
“I’m not—” She met my eyes and then shrugged. “All right, fine. I am afraid.”
I gave a small smile, pleased that she’d told the truth. Because I could read the fear on her face, scent it. Right now it was battling with arousal—and winning.
“It’s normal, chérie. We fear the unfamiliar. But I will be gentle with you, I promise.”
I turned her until she was facing the water again and set my mouth to her nape. My fangs lengthened, but when she stiffened, I merely wrapped my arms around her and ran my lips over the sensitive skin.
“Relax.” The word slipped like syrup over my tongue, infused with a light compulsion.
Ensnared: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance Page 3
