When Genevieve nodded at him, he turned and left. She waited a few moments, gathered the rest of her things, and walked back out into the hall where the maintenance man, a short, pot-bellied hyena-shifter, was sweeping the floor. Keeping her voice barely above a whisper, she said, “Good night, Tom.”
He flashed her a brief smile. “Good night, Doc. Be safe out there.”
“You, too.” She rushed to the elevator and took it down.
“Good evening, Will,” she said as she passed the security guard at the front desk.
“Dr. Russell, I thought Dr. Taylor would be taking you home today. He mentioned something about—”
“It’s okay,” she called without stopping. “He’s busy with someone right now.”
“But Dr.—”
“See you tomorrow.”
Only once she was at the tube station did she breathe a sigh of relief. The situation with the stalker, not to mention Cresso’s hovering, had given her the sense of being totally smothered. What she needed right now was a hot bath and a cold glass of white wine. She boarded the train headed for North Kensington and pulled out her e-reader in preparation for the fifty-minute ride.
Her cell phone buzzed as she approached her station. When she pulled it out, she saw that Cresso had called sometime during her ride on the train. Damn, she’d forgotten he’d taken her number a few months ago, when they’d worked together to develop the chemicals he used in his sex-demon vaccine. His call must have gone straight to voicemail due to the spotty reception.
Cresso was no doubt upset at her for leaving without him, but seriously, she’d taken the tube home every day for the past year. There were crowds of people everywhere. If she wasn’t safe here, she didn’t know where she would be.
After a moment’s hesitation, she decided not to call him back.
Once Genevieve arrived at her two-story townhouse, she locked her door and headed into the kitchen. A creak from the stairs froze her in place. Holding her breath, she listened for a moment. When she heard nothing else, she forced herself to relax. Today’s events were merely causing her to freak out. The house was old, and it made noises when it settled. That was all.
She headed to her wine cooler and was about to open it when a soft rasp sounded out from upstairs. Her blood pressure skyrocketed and she slowly drew her fingers away from the cooler’s handle.
There couldn’t be anyone here. How would her stalker even know where she lived? It had to be the house settling. Lord knew she heard sounds like this every single day. Still, she’d never received a grisly gift like that before… For her own peace of mind, maybe it’d be best to search the house.
Despite her inner reassurances, her heart pounded in her throat as she slid off her shoes. So she grabbed the fire extinguisher on her way out of the kitchen. It never hurt to be prepared. She crept up the stairs, flipping on the light at the top. Hoisting the heavy extinguisher so she could readily smash it into someone’s face if she had to, she whirled the corner into her hallway.
Empty.
Her hands trembled when she turned on the light in the master bedroom, then the spare, and finally the bathroom.
Nothing.
Everything was just as she’d left it this morning.
A soft laugh escaped her. Of course there was no one here. “I’m driving myself nuts.”
Genevieve padded over to the antique claw-foot tub and set the fire extinguisher next to it. After turning the water on as hot as she could stand it, she added a bit of jasmine bubble bath, sending swirls of flower-scented steam through the room.
Living on my own is seriously starting to get to me. Over a year and she still hadn’t gotten used to it. But then she’d never lived alone before. She’d gone from her parents’ home in New Jersey to Harvard, where she’d roomed with other students all the way through medical school. And during her last year of school, she’d met Jeffrey—the brilliant, handsome older man who was already an established brain surgeon. By some miracle he’d been interested in her. They’d lived together in Boston for several years…until she found out what a lying cheat he really was. She’d accepted the job with Elcorp just days later and ended up moving to London.
You’re better off alone, Gen. Never forget it.
Rising to her feet, she tugged off her clothes and rested her glasses on the sink. Then she slid into the steamy water. It caressed her skin, soothing all the stress of the day away. She couldn’t help but recall how angry Cresso had appeared when he’d discovered the package she received from her stalker. He genuinely seemed to care about her, and more than in the way one coworker cares about another. What a puzzle. The way his hands had curled into fists, his long fingers tensing. And what beautiful fingers they were.
She had to admit, in the privacy of her own mind, she’d often wondered how it would feel to be stroked by Cresso’s hands. As an incubus, he was clearly well versed in the art of seduction. His fingers would no doubt tease her with expert precision. They would spark electricity as they slid over her nipples, tightening them with almost painful intensity. Then, when he trailed them down past her navel and in between the silky folds between her thighs, her whole body would begin to hum with energy. And the pressure of him sliding his hot and heavy length in between those folds would be unbearably exquisite. It would take no more than a few thrusts for her to explode with all the force of a nuclear reactor. Just the thought of it made her want to come.
Crap.
When she realized she’d inadvertently been tracing with her own hands the movements she imagined, she dunked her head under the water.
Must stop daydreaming about the sexy incubus.
What would he say if he ever found out he’d been the object of her fantasies? Probably something like, “Well, hop on, baby. Enjoy the ride.” Then he’d go on his merry way, likely forgetting about the incident within moments afterward.
No, thank you. If she’d wanted to feel cheap and used, she would’ve stayed with Jeffrey.
Fantasizing about an incubus would bring her nothing but heartache. The man needed sex to live, for God’s sake. It was like food to him. And as she’d seen with her own two eyes over the time she’d worked with him, the more main courses he had on his plate, the happier he was.
Genevieve forced the thoughts of Cresso out of her head while she finished her bath. Then she dried off and rubbed a towel through her hair, tugged on her robe, and placed her foggy glasses back on her face. She headed downstairs to return the fire extinguisher to its designated spot. While she was at it, she’d get that much-needed glass of wine.
Genevieve had just made it to the bottom step when she heard the scratch outside the door. She stopped cold right in front of it, her heart thundering to a gallop. She waited for a few moments but didn’t hear anything else. Just when she was about to relax, she heard it again.
Oh my God. It was probably nothing, but her nerves were totally shot from the events of the day. She moved to the peephole and peered out. Nothing. Even though the outside light was dim, her tiny porch was narrow. If someone were out there, she would have been able to see him. Still, something about the situation put her on edge.
I really need to invest in a weapon. For now, the fire extinguisher would do. Hopefully. Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and opened it, then stepped out. But there was no one there. Nothing unusual at all.
“Definitely need that glass of wine.” She started to step inside when she saw the lump on the back right corner of her porch. Something about the odd shape of it raised the hairs on her neck, and a chemical scent floated toward her. Her grip on the extinguisher tightened and she tiptoed forward, trying to make out what it was in the dim light. She was almost on top of it before she saw it clearly enough to recognize it. A scream bubbled out of her throat and she stumbled backward.
Moments later the door to the townhouse next to hers opened and her neighbor, an older, balding man with a thick Scottish accent, came rushing out. “I heard you scream, lass. Gave me qui
te a start. Whatever is the matter?”
“I…” Her free hand shook when she lifted it to rub her face.
“What’s wrong, lass?” he repeated.
What was wrong? Rats.
Five of them.
Skinned and carefully piled on her porch.
Chapter Three
The damned woman had left work without him. She’d given him the slip while he was with one of his patients. When he’d discovered she was gone, Cresso’s first instinct had been to get in his car and drive over to her place. He resisted only because he knew what sort of welcome would await him if he did. It wouldn’t be a warm one.
Much as Cresso hated to admit it, Genevieve was likely safe on the tube, with thousands of other people surrounding her. And if she didn’t want his help, he couldn’t force it on her. He made a mental note to call Mac later in the evening, though, and ask him to start keeping an eye on her place at night when he came back into town. She would never have to know.
Once he arrived at home, he hopped into the shower. The hot water sluiced over his body, loosening his tense muscles. Warm light from the sconces above the sink filtered into the shower through the frosted glass, casting trails of gold throughout the space. They reminded him of that night at the holiday party. The moment his whole world had changed.
He’d been working with Genevieve for over six months at the time, and he’d always thought her beautiful. But she’d made her dislike of him clear right from the start, so there’d been no point thinking any further about it. Especially since, as a human, she was off-limits. He needed sex to live, and the only women who could survive his touch were succubi. But that night, when he’d seen her standing by the Christmas tree with a half-drunk glass of champagne in her hand…she’d been so beautiful. She had worn her hair down for the first time since he’d known her, and the light had caught her hair just right, casting golden highlights over it. Something about her had taken his breath away. Just like that, he’d been a goner.
Like he said before: hopeless.
His cell phone rang right as he stepped out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and dug the phone out of the pocket of his discarded slacks. When he read the display, his heart did a funny little flop in his chest.
It was Genevieve.
“Hello?”
“Cresso?”
If the tone of her voice hadn’t clued him in that something was wrong, the way she addressed him would have. To his recollection, she had never called him by his first name before.
“Genevieve, what’s wrong?”
“It’s…at my house.”
A sharp pain hit his chest and he rubbed at the spot. “What is it? Are you in trouble?”
“No. I… There was some noise outside my front door, and when I opened it—”
“You went outside?”
“I had a weapon. Well, sort of.”
He was having a heart attack. The woman was going to kill him. “What happened?”
“Rats. Five of them, all skinned.”
Oh, fuck. Fuck.
He stalked toward his closet and pulled out a pair of slacks and a dark-blue wool sweater. “You need to make sure you’re safe.”
“My neighbor’s here in the living room. He searched the entire block but he didn’t see anything suspicious. He says he’ll stay with me until…as long as I need him.”
“I’ll be there in less than half an hour.” Even if he had to break all the traffic laws to do it.
“Thanks.” There was a pause before she said in a small voice, “I’m sorry I bothered you. I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Don’t worry about it. You can always call me. I’ll see you soon.”
After hanging up, Cresso threw on his clothes and shoes, grabbed his keys, and rushed for the door. He banged his thigh on the rectangular glass table in the foyer but shook it off with a muttered curse. Since demons possessed the ability to heal at an abnormally fast rate, he wouldn’t even bear a bruise.
He headed downstairs to the parking garage, thinking of Genevieve all the while. She’d mentioned that she left her whole family behind in the United States. The thought that she was so alone that she would be forced to call someone she didn’t like filled him with compassion for her, as well as fury at the sick son of a bitch who thought that tormenting an innocent woman was fun. At the same time, she could have called anyone else, but she’d chosen him. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
He let out a little laugh at the direction his thoughts had taken. How foolish of him. The only reason she’d called him was because he stumbled upon her package earlier in the day. That was it.
Once he was in the car and driving to Genevieve’s, he dialed Mac’s number. Thankfully the shifter had just arrived back in town. He agreed to meet Cresso at Genevieve’s address.
The light to Genevieve’s front porch was on when he pulled up across the street from her Victorian townhouse. He stepped onto her porch and saw the rats carefully piled in one of the corners. A thick tide of anger rose within him, forcing him to clench his fists. What kind of sick fuck got off on terrorizing a helpless woman like this? It was disgusting.
Cresso resisted the urge to kick the macabre gift off the porch. Mac would want to sniff the rats to see if he could catch a scent, so they’d have to stay where they were for now. He knocked on the door and moments later it opened to reveal Genevieve. Her damp hair hung in golden ringlets over her shoulders, and her voluptuous body was covered by a soft, pink silk robe that clung to every curve and ended at midcalf. Not to mention her glasses, which were slipping down her cute little nose. He went instantly hard, his allure unfolding around him. With serious effort, he forced it back into his body.
“Cresso.” The relief in her eyes was completely at odds with every other time she’d looked at him.
He cursed his stupid cock for reacting so basely to the sight of her, but then, it didn’t care about the gravity of their situation. It just wanted to see her naked, and this was the closest it had ever come. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice his embarrassing predicament.
“Genevieve.” He closed his hands over her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
To his surprise, she relaxed into his touch for a moment before stiffening and pulling away. She tugged her robe farther closed and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Come in.”
She turned and led the way into her living room, a cozy space with peach-colored walls and a love seat to match. A brown leather recliner sat in front of the bay window looking out toward the street, and sitting in that recliner was an older man with a big gut and a bald head. He blinked at Cresso from behind his round eyeglasses.
Genevieve motioned back and forth between the two of them. “Mr. Baggins, this is Dr. Taylor, the gentleman I was waiting for.”
“How do you do?” Mr. Baggins rose and held out his hand.
Cresso strode forward to shake it. “Thank you for sitting with Genevieve until I arrived.”
Mr. Baggins scowled. “Still don’t understand why we didn’t call the police, but I suppose that’s her business. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thanks again,” Genevieve said to her neighbor.
Cresso examined the space while Genevieve walked Mr. Baggins to the door. There was an old fireplace that looked like it hadn’t been used in years, and a rectangular table in a light shade of wood had been squeezed into the far corner of the room. All in all, the area looked exactly how he’d imagined it would. Warm, comfy, and inviting—the exact opposite of her sterile laboratory. A place where she could sit and read before going off to bed.
The thought of Genevieve in her bed reawakened the stirrings of life in his groin. He sat down on the recliner with a muttered curse. He was going to have to get control over himself. Now that it seemed they were going to be spending some time together, it wouldn’t do to have a constant hard-on whenever she was around.
A moment later Genevieve returned. Her distinctive jasmi
ne-and-honey scent wrapped around him like an intoxicating caress. Damn, he loved the way she smelled.
When she sat on the far end of the love seat, he rose and sat next to her. She tensed in obvious discomfort, but he ignored that. “Tell me exactly what happened, Genevieve.”
She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. It brought a hint of softness to her—a sense of vulnerability—that she always tried to disguise at work. He’d sensed it from the beginning, and it was part of what had attracted him to her.
“I got home and went upstairs to take a bath,” she said. “When I came down, I heard the noise at the door. You know the rest.”
“Do you think you might have been followed on the train?”
Her brows knitted together. “I don’t know. I didn’t notice anyone, but there were so many people. I suppose it would have been easy for anyone to hide in the crowd.”
All too easy. Now they had no way of knowing if she’d been trailed or if the stalker had discovered where she lived by some other method.
“I guess I should have waited for you, huh?” she whispered.
While he couldn’t disagree, he didn’t want her to feel guilty about it. “None of this is your fault. The blame lies squarely with the sick son of a bitch who’s doing all this.”
Genevieve’s eyes took on a haunted look. “What am I going to do?”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached over and took her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her fingers to warm them up. “I’m gonna help you figure this out. Promise.”
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and dropped her gaze to his lips. When her breath hitched, he stilled at the thrum of energy that started to build between them. This was so unlike her normal expression of disgust for him. He didn’t quite know what to make of it.
Without him willing it, his incubus allure seeped out of his pores and thickened the air between them. Her body responded, her lower lip wobbling and her nipples hardening to stiff buds that poked against the silky fabric of her robe. Not that she had a choice. Sex demon allure was almost impossible to resist.
Heart of the Incubus Page 3
