Aw hell, he needed sex. Needed it like he needed air to breathe. Ever since the holiday party he’d started to go longer without it, testing the boundaries of his resistance. This time it had been three weeks. Soon his body would begin to shut down from lack of nutrition. He would grow weaker and weaker. Even now, knowing that Genevieve was responding only to his allure and not because she had any personal interest in him, his incubus side longed to lay her down and fuck her senseless.
Genevieve trembled and inched toward him. “Cresso…”
The knock on her door startled them both into jumping. He managed to fold his allure back into his pores, and she tugged her hands out of his. Her eyes darkened with suspicion.
Great. Now she thought he’d tried to take advantage of her. He hadn’t—at least not consciously.
She rose and glanced toward the door, pressing her palms together. “I don’t know who that could be.”
“Sorry, I forgot to mention I called that detective I told you about. He’s gonna take a look around and ask you some questions.” Cresso rose and headed to the door, throwing it open to reveal Mac. After making the necessary introductions, he gestured toward the porch. “Gen, you stay in here.”
Her mouth tightened at his words. “It’s my house, my stalker. I’m going out with you two.”
“Suit yourself.” He’d wanted to save her the horror of having to look at those rats again, but if the woman was going to be so damn stubborn about it, there was nothing he could do.
Mac led the way to the pile of rats and squatted before them. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
Genevieve pressed against Cresso’s side. He was pretty sure she didn’t even realize she was doing it.
“What’s he doing?” she whispered.
“He’s a wolf-shifter. His strongest sense by far is the ability to smell.”
“He won’t pick up on anything,” she said. “The rats reeked of formaldehyde.”
Huh. Cresso couldn’t smell anything, but he believed her. Scenting chemicals was part of her gift.
After several moments, Mac shook his head and rose. “Whoever did this wore gloves and used chemicals to hide his scent. All I get off the rats is the smell of formaldehyde and rubber.”
Shit. As Cresso had feared. Whoever her stalker was, he wasn’t a fool.
Could he be another one of the scientists at the lab?
Mac motioned toward the interior of the house. “I’m gonna check inside to see if I pick up any unusual scents. Once I’m done, I’ll want to ask the lady a few questions about these letters she’s receiving. I’ll need to see them, too.”
“I left them at the office,” Genevieve said.
“He can stop by tomorrow.” Cresso nodded at Mac and the shifter retreated into the house.
Almost as if against her will, Genevieve’s eyes traveled back down to the rats. She let out a little sigh. “What am I going to do?”
The tug on his heartstrings prompted him into action. “I’ll get rid of these. You go pack a bag.”
One of her brows lifted. “Pack?”
“You can’t stay here alone. Not until this mess is straightened out.”
Genevieve tugged the sash on her robe tighter. “So, where am I supposed to stay?”
She wasn’t going to like this. Not one bit. “My place.”
Her eyes widened into a look of horror that would be comical if it wasn’t so damn soul crushing.
“What?”
Chapter Four
On the long list of things Genevieve never thought she’d be doing, spending the night at Cresso’s apartment had to be somewhere near the top. After he’d initially suggested it, she’d come up with a million reasons why it was a bad idea, and he’d countered every one. Truth be told, he was right. She couldn’t stay at her house. Not only was it dangerous, but there was no way in hell she’d ever be able to get any sleep, knowing that her stalker knew where she lived.
Yet, would Cresso’s place be any less dangerous? After all, he was going to be in it.
Even now, riding in Cresso’s car, she was assaulted by his lush cinnamon-and-spice scent. Occasional jolts of electricity streamed toward her, sliding along her body in an erotic caress that left her breathless with need. His incubus allure—and she was beginning to suspect he had very little control over it. He certainly didn’t seem to be enjoying her discomfort. In fact, if his stiff arms and tight jaw were any indication, the man was every bit as uncomfortable as she was.
After a tense fifteen-minute car ride, Cresso finally broke the silence. “Is there anyone you need to call, to let them know what’s happening?”
Genevieve couldn’t help but laugh at that. The only people who would even be interested were her parents, but she couldn’t tell them for one simple reason. “Mom and Dad would freak out, and they don’t know about the Otherworlds, so that’s a definite no.”
“Your mother or your father, they don’t have your magical ability?”
Cresso’s long fingers slid down the steering wheel, sparking a shiver of longing in Genevieve’s body. She directed her gaze out the windshield before it could morph into a full-blown tremor. “My father’s a respected biochemist. His work has always come so easily to him. I think he does have the ability, but not at the same level as I do.”
Not enough that he’d ever questioned it or considered himself strange. Certainly not enough that he’d ever been ridiculed by his peers.
“Hey, four eyes, the nerd herd called and said they’re looking for you.”
The unwelcome memory of that tenth-grade moment was seared into her brain, especially since it had been so unexpected. Scott was her assigned lab partner, and he was one of the most popular jocks in school. He’d always been so kind to her, constantly joking, asking questions, and even going to her house to study. She’d developed the biggest crush on him. But the day the semester had ended, his hot cheerleader girlfriend had waited for him outside the classroom, and he’d uttered that sentence. Loud enough that anyone within earshot could hear it. She’d never forgotten the sound of the cheerleader’s hysterical laughter as she led him away. Genevieve had been left alone to fight back the tears that threatened to spill when she realized he’d only been nice to her so she could help him pass the class.
“When did you first realize your abilities were special?” Cresso asked.
Special. Ha. He meant when did she realize she was a freak. “It was in second or third grade science class that I learned other students didn’t see things the way I did. Since my father was a respected scientist, I thought he’d understand when I explained I could tell by observation and scent whether or not the chemical composition of my project was correct. But he looked at me just as strangely as my teacher and classmates had. That was when I figured out to keep things like that to myself.”
“That’s tough.”
Certainly hadn’t been easy. She was labeled a geek and a loser, and she’d never lost that outcast status. In time, she learned to live with it. Then she’d found out about the Otherworlds, and what a relief that had been. For the first time in her life, she had no longer felt like such a freak, and she’d discovered there were far crazier things out there than a human with a touch of magic.
Sometimes she wondered if her attraction to Jeffrey had been due to her past status as a social outcast. When he’d first expressed interest in her, it had seemed like a dream. A star surgeon—a man who was popular and widely admired—had wanted her, of all people. Maybe, in a way, he’d been the jock she never got to have in high school.
And look how well that turned out.
“You seem far away.”
Cresso’s softly spoken words startled Genevieve back into the present. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’ve got a lot to deal with right now.” He turned into the entrance of a large, stately apartment building, one of the swankiest in the posh Mayfair area.
Genevieve’s mouth dropped open. “You live here?”
A ghost o
f a smile crept to his lips. “Yup.”
Whoa. She knew he wasn’t a pauper—his Gucci shirts and well-tailored slacks told her that—but she’d had no clue he was this well off.
He pulled up to a valet station and popped the trunk. A uniformed man approached and opened the door for Genevieve. Now she wished she’d worn more than a plain black sweater and battered old pair of jeans. How low-class of her.
She fought back her self-consciousness as she slid out of the car. “Thanks.”
“Ma’am.” The valet hurried across the car and took the keys from Cresso, then retrieved her suitcase from the trunk and handed it to Cresso. “Have a good evening, miss. Dr. Taylor.”
Not even one curious glimpse her way. Bet he’s used to female visitors spending the night. In fact, if anything about this scenario surprised him, it was probably that there was only one of her.
“I can carry my own bag.”
Cresso gave her a dry glance. “I got it.”
Genevieve opened her mouth to argue, but then thought better of it. One piece of luggage wasn’t worth fighting about. With a shrug, she followed Cresso through the set of glass double doors in front of them. They led into an opulent lobby decorated in burgundy and gold-toned metal inlay.
A young, sleepy-eyed porter snapped to attention when he saw them. “Good evening, Dr. Taylor.”
“Evening, Peter.” Cresso gestured toward her. “This is Dr. Russell. She’ll be staying here for a few days.”
The lecherous glint in Peter’s eyes set her teeth on edge, but when he spoke, all he said was, “Welcome, ma’am.”
Genevieve followed Cresso into the elevator. When he saw her expression, he arched a brow. “Why the sour face?”
“Oh, no reason. He was just so charming.”
Cresso’s airy laugh filled the space in between them, its tenor creating invisible waves that speared her body with arousal. “Wait until you meet the porter who works during the day.”
“Can’t wait,” she muttered.
The elevator opened with a ding and Cresso led her out and to the right, where a single door was set into the hallway. She looked behind her. “Only two apartments per floor?”
“Yes. Gives the flat a secluded feel.”
And it screamed money. How much are they paying him at Elcorp? Had to be far more than her, or else he was independently wealthy. “How long have you lived here?”
“Just a few months,” he said without looking back. When he lifted his arm to fit the key in the lock, the muscles in his back bunched, sparking an involuntary clench in her loins. He must work out, or else incubi were blessed when it came to looks and fitness.
Then again, they probably had to be, if they were biologically made to lure in prey.
Damn it, stop staring at his ass. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “I meant how long have you lived on Earth? You weren’t born here, were you?”
He pushed open the door and gave her a playful look as he stepped aside for her to enter. “What gave me away? The lack of a British accent?”
She laughed. “The demon lineage might have had something to do with it, too.”
“Oh yeah,” he deadpanned. “About three years ago, I was granted leave by the Elden Council to move to this dimension to work.”
“Ah. Do you ever go back to visit your family?”
He flashed her a brief smile. “They’re all dead.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“I haven’t been back to Infernum since I left. No reason to. The place is a hellhole. Dark and desolate. Not nearly as fun as Earth.”
Not nearly as many easy women there, either, she’d bet. She opened her mouth to say so, but then caught herself before the smart-ass retort could leave her lips. In all likelihood, there were more succubi in his home world than here on Earth, not less, so his leaving must have had nothing to do with other women. Once again, she was allowing Jeffrey’s past actions to color her thoughts. In this case, it wasn’t fair.
When she saw the surrounding space, all thought of Cresso with other women fled. It was an amazing room. She stood in an elegant-yet-modern foyer, with off-white walls, wood flooring, and a wide console table made of glass and steel.
Whoa. Parents must have been loaded.
When he let out a loud laugh, it hit her that she must’ve said those words aloud. Cheeks flaming, she faced him.
“Not quite.” Looking amused, he shut the door and locked it before turning back to her. “I helped some bounty hunter friends capture a dangerous fugitive last year, and I was granted a reward by the Council. I bought this flat with some of the money.”
Some of the money? Holy crap. “He must have been really dangerous.”
Cresso nodded, then pointed behind her. “Living room is through there. My suite is beyond it. Kitchen all the way at the end of the hall. But your room is this way. Come on.”
He turned to the right and led her through a door separating the foyer from the rest of the house, then down a long corridor. They walked past a room that looked like it had been made into a home laboratory. At the end of the hall was a bedroom with gray wallpaper and a queen-size bed with a black-and-white comforter.
While Cresso set her suitcase on the bed, Genevieve took a look around the room. It was chic in an understated sort of way, and most importantly quite a distance from Cresso’s room. Maybe she could actually get some sleep here. “If I didn’t say it before, thank you.”
He slid his hands in his pockets and faced her. When he smiled, traces of dimples marked his cheeks. “No problem. It’s not much, but it’s private. And safe.”
Safe. Holy crap, a stalker was after her. Her heart stuttered, leaving her short of breath. She moved to the bed and sat before her weak legs could give out on her. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
Cresso sat next to her and slid his hand soothingly down her back. “We’ll find out who’s doing this and stop him. I promise you.”
She let her breath out slowly. Hopefully he was right.
“You can’t think of anyone at work who’s acted strangely around you? Perhaps another scientist?”
“No.” Not strangely enough that she would suspect someone of this. Although…
Genevieve lifted her head and met Cresso’s gaze. “Dr. Benedict.”
Cresso stilled. “The biologist who works on the third floor?”
“Yes. I’ve noticed him staring at me a lot, although I assumed he does the same thing to everyone. But now I remember that he said something during the last holiday party about how my hair perfectly complemented my skin. And earlier tonight he made a comment about bundling up so I wouldn’t chafe my skin. The way he said it gave me the creeps.”
“He keeps mentioning your skin?” Cresso’s mouth tightened and he rose to pace the room.
“Yeah. I mean, he’s known for being eccentric, and I find it hard to believe he would do something like this, but in conjunction with the skinned rats, maybe…”
“True, there’s always been something off about him.” Cresso rubbed his jaw. “Until we have further information to go on, you should try to avoid him as much as possible.”
Her shoulders hunched over. She had to exchange data with Dr. Benedict on a fairly regular basis. “How am I supposed to do that?”
Cresso sat next to her again and closed his hands over her arms. “Just make sure you’re never alone with him, or anyone else at work, for that matter. And I’ll keep an eye on you, of course. In the meantime, we’ll search for clues to find out who’s really doing this.”
“All right.”
“What about Will? Have you ever sensed anything around him that made you uncomfortable?”
She blinked at him. “No. Will seems like a good guy. He’s always been really sweet to me.”
“Maybe too sweet,” Cresso muttered.
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He flashed her a quick smile. “We’ll figure it out. Promise.”
The comforting tone of his vo
ice urged her to believe him and a brief flare of gratitude overwhelmed her. She knew she’d never treated Cresso with much respect before, but he was still going the extra mile for her. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow and narcissistic as she thought.
“I really do appreciate everything you’re doing for me. I know we aren’t… Well, I guess what I mean to say is thanks again.”
His eyes softened and the corners of his mouth tugged upward. “You’re welcome.”
A stray lock of hair fell down over one eye, and before she could even think about it, she reached up to smooth it away. Her fingers brushed his skin and he let out a soft sound, a cross between a sigh and a groan.
She stilled at the wave of desire that crashed over her. He smelled so good, somehow earthy yet exotic, and the heat from his body washed over her like a smooth caress. Demons’ temperatures were a few degrees warmer than that of humans, and right now she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like for them to touch without the burden of clothing in the way.
Bad Gen.
But she couldn’t help herself.
A heavy cloud of temptation drifted into the air, thickening and perfuming the space between them. Cresso’s eyes narrowed, his pupils constricting. When his hand closed over her fingers, she allowed him to tug her forward.
“Genevieve,” he murmured.
Yes. Her heart booming in her chest like a drum, she leaned farther toward him, until their lips were mere inches apart. His breath hitched, and he closed the distance. Their mouths met for the briefest of touches, just enough for her to process how warm and soft his lips were, and how electricity crackled off him where they made contact.
Then the doorbell rang.
Oh, shit. Genevieve jumped back, her hand breaking free of his. Fire blazed her cheeks when reality returned with a vengeance, and she realized just how close they’d come to crossing some unspoken barrier. Cresso looked like he’d come to the same realization, if she correctly read the consternation on his face.
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered. Clearing his throat, he stood. “Guess I’d better get that.”
Heart of the Incubus Page 4
