Holiday with a Vampire 4: Halfway to DawnThe GiftBright Star (Harlequin Nocturne)

by Susan Krinard

  Mom had had high hopes for her and Alex. She had, too. But Angel hadn’t had the heart to tell her mother the truth once she’d figured it out: Alex wasn’t interested in her as more than a friend with benefits. Marriage wasn’t likely. Not when he thought he had much better prospects than Angel and far greater aspirations than just becoming district attorney. He wanted a wife that could take him to the governor’s mansion, perhaps even further, not a small-town antiques-shop owner. She didn’t stick out enough, or rather parts of her stuck out too much. She wasn’t polished and attention grabbing.

  Unlike Cullen.

  Cullen commanded attention—kind of the way a

  Secret Service agent might. Gina Wiggins, who worked at the post office, turned to give him a good long look, then swiveled around and whispered to Connie Parsons right in front of her. Angel watched the news spread, person by person. She thought he’d created such a stir because he was taller than people around him, but it was more than that. He had an elusive movie-star quality to him that drew attention.

  He moved a step forward in the line and turned, glancing back at her. Angel sucked in a startled breath, her cheeks flushing with heat and her heart pounding hard. He’d probably sensed she’d been staring at him. She broke the visual connection between them and worried the knit of her gloves between her fingers as she rearranged them on the table. Who was she kidding? Just the cut of his expensive coat, suit and red silk tie spoke of wealth, and his commanding presence bordered on aristocratic. Men like Cullen McCormack didn’t date or fall for girls like her. Alex was proof of that. And Alex didn’t even hold a candle to Cullen McCormack.

  Angel sighed. For once she wished a guy like Cullen could see past the extra fifteen pounds on her frame, her plain brown hair or her less-than-chic wardrobe. Perhaps take a moment to get to know her as a person, not as someone to assist them with whatever they wanted.

  “Be careful. It’s hot.” She glanced up to find him holding a plain, cream-colored paper cup, the mound of glistening whipped cream on top wavering slightly.

  “Thank you.” Her fingers grazed his lightly as she took the cup, and Angel’s heartbeat bumped up a couple of notches at the zip of electrical current between them.

  “My pleasure.” Cullen settled himself into the chair opposite her, his large hands dwarfing the cup he held. “Thank you for being so welcoming to a stranger. It’s not often I get to have a hot drink with an equally hot woman.”

  Angel about snorted her sip of hot chocolate. “I sincerely doubt that. Based on the reaction in here, you look like you’d have no end of female company.”

  He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. He had nice lips, well sculpted, perfect for kissing. Angel shook the thought from her head. Why on earth should she care? And why even think about him this way? He was a stranger. A beautiful stranger, and she was just being...kind. Or perhaps he was the one being kind to an obviously plain woman.

  Cullen nodded toward her. “That’s a beautiful necklace you’re wearing.”

  The chatter of customers and the hissing sounds of the cappuccino machines faded away, becoming nothing but a buzz in the background as Angel focused in on his voice. Her fingers touched the warm metal of the locket.

  “Yes. A gift from my mother.” She cleared her throat at the last word.

  “So, a family heirloom?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you mind? I’m a bit of an enthusiast about antique jewelry.”

  It was an odd request, but she wasn’t sure she could deny him—anything. Cullen leaned forward, close enough that Angel could smell the clean scent of soap mingled with a spicier fragrance of cloves that lingered on his skin.

  Angel’s throat swelled shut. She couldn’t do more than hold still, even as her whole body trembled while his hand reached toward her. His fingertips gently skimmed the base of her throat, sending a throb of awareness through her body. He grasped the locket and flipped it open.

  She swallowed hard. Had this been a different situation, he’d have been close enough to kiss her. And Angel was all too aware of how his nearness spiked every female fantasy she had. Her lips tingled as if she’d just slicked on a mint lip balm.

  She heard the locket click shut. His intense, heated gaze flicked up to meet hers. “This is very unusual. I’ve never seen anything like it.” His fingers once more brushed her skin as he lay the locket back again just below the hollow of her throat. Even in the middle of a crowd, he managed to create a sensual haze that made her feel as if there was only the two of them. She struggled to pull together a string of coherent words.

  “Are you an antiques collector?”

  “Of a sort.”

  His answer didn’t satisfy her curiosity. “Personal or for retail?”

  He smiled. “More of a personal collector. Occasionally I’ll find items of particular interest to a client.”

  “So, more like a picker.”

  He raised a brow and picked up his coffee, taking a sip as if considering her comment. “A high-end one, I suppose.”

  Gorgeous, mysterious and totally unattainable. Definitely what she didn’t need.

  “Now that you’ve gotten to ask me a personal question, it’s only fair if you let me ask you one in return.”

  Angel shrugged. “I’m not all that interesting. Go ahead.”

  His eyes sparkled. “What’s the story behind the necklace? You said it was a family heirloom?”

  Angel took a fortifying sip of her hot chocolate, letting the creamy texture and rich flavor fill her mouth. “My mother always wore it. She passed away recently and left it to me.”

  Cullen raised his cup of coffee in salute. “My condolences on the loss of your mother. That can’t have been easy. The way you talk about her, you two must have been close.”

  Angel worked hard at blinking back the heat gathering in her eyes. She did not want to cry. Not here. Not now.

  “Did she ever say where she’d gotten it?”

  Angel took a deep breath and shrugged. “My grandmother. But she passed away before I was born, so I didn’t get to know her.”

  Cullen nodded. “Well, you’ve been more than fair in your answer. Your turn. Ask me a question. Anything.”

  In her chest her heart double-bumped. “Have you been in a serious relationship before?”

  “Oh, yes.” He cast his gaze down to his coffee cup, a crease forming between his brows as they drew together.

  “I take it from your expression it didn’t turn out well.” The brilliant light that had been in his eyes before had dulled. Angel winced. She wanted to take the words back the second they’d slipped out. Smooth move, she derided herself. Perhaps this was why Alex was reluctant to take her anywhere in public. Her annoying habit of speaking first and thinking later meant there were plenty of times she found herself wishing she could take her words back. “Sorry, that was really none of my business.”

  * * *

  Cullen waved away her concern with a flick of his hand, then leaned back in his chair, his fingers scraping across the sweep of hair lingering over his eyes. “Let’s say the split was a mutual thing.” Mutually destructive. Marie had sought to destroy him with her curse of immortality, and he’d sought to avenge himself by burning her cottage to the ground.

  Angelica’s pretty mouth trembled into a half smile full of insecurity. Of any of the women he’d met, she needed his help more than most. She was fragile inside, either from the recent loss of her mother or the rejection of the clod who’d clearly broken her spirit. A sour feeling swirled in Cullen’s gut. He’d bet it was the man who made her insecure. The scent of pepper spiked the air around him. He sincerely hoped only he could smell it. As a vampire he could scent the emotion on the air, but occasionally so could a perceptive mortal.

  “So, what’s your best relationship advice, then?” she asked, her voice cracking.

  He could tell her to never cheat on a voodoo priestess, but it wouldn’t make a bit of sense. So, he chose the next best thing.


  “Know precisely what you are getting into.”

  Angelica nodded, her lips closing around the edge of her cup. When she was done taking a sip, the soft pink tip of her tongue swept over her top lip, removing the trace of whipped cream lingering there. His body tightened.

  “Good advice,” she said.

  Too bad he couldn’t give himself any. This wasn’t at all going how he’d planned. And he’d been so certain this time could be, would be, different, but already he was finding himself far too interested in Angelica. It was always harder to make a mark of someone if one knew them too well. One started to have feelings. Messy things, feelings. Always muddling one’s judgment.

  “You sound like you’ve had a serious relationship that didn’t go as planned,” he replied easily, his tone smooth and unruffled.

  She sighed, her fingers absently swizzling the thin red stirring straw in her cup. “Let’s just say I was more into him than he was into me.”

  “He’s a stupid bastard,” Cullen said without heat. “Men usually are. We often don’t know the value of what we have until after we’ve lost it. You’re smart and beautiful. I’m sure he regrets it.”

  Angelica’s eyes widened slightly. Her throat moved reflexively as she swallowed the words, but Cullen heard them all the same, echoing in the thoughts he read. He’s already had me. Alex’s never going to be interested in anything else. I’m not suitable for a politician’s wife.

  “You can tell all that just over a cup of hot chocolate?” Her voice held a slight tremor.

  Cullen hadn’t met the man and already hated him. Whoever this moron was, he certainly didn’t deserve her, and it angered Cullen that this nameless cad had so thoroughly compromised Angelica’s confidence. “So, is it over between you—or are you still hoping he’ll come around?”

  She offered him a weak smile and deftly changed the subject. “So, you’re in town on business?”

  Cullen leaned back, taking a long drink of his coffee as he contemplated how to respond. He was certain she still had affections for this Alex chap. The thought both irritated and depressed him. Like the other women he’d met since the curse, it was clear Angelica would give anything to be with the man of her dreams, without even a thought about what her life could be like if it spanned centuries. And the situation was all the more unfortunate since it was as clear as ice to Cullen that Alex didn’t deserve her.

  “This area is an antiques dealer’s playground,” he replied, not missing a beat. It was close to the truth. He did collect antiques. It didn’t matter that at the time of their original acquisition they’d been new or that he still had an eye and affinity for things from his mortal past.

  Her smile widened a bit. “I know. That’s why I have a shop here.”

  “You deal antiques, as well?”

  Angelica shrugged. “It’s more like the family business. I simply inherited it.” Her hand absently strayed to the locket.

  She’d just handed him the opening he needed. Cullen ruthlessly held himself in check, not daring to stare at the locket. But the knowledge that he might be getting his hands on the locket infused the dark ichor in his veins with the buzz of anticipation. If she appreciated antiques, perhaps she could be lured by immortality. Considering he liked her, acting as her mentor through the change into a full-fledged vampire wouldn’t be too troublesome.

  “I’d like to see your shop while I’m here.”

  Her gaze connected with his. “You would?” The slight tremor in her voice belied the glint of interest in her eyes.

  “Of course I would. Can we go now?”

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Eight is hardly the middle of the night,” he said drily. “I must admit to curiosity, and I’ve never been good at waiting. Unless you have something else to do tonight...?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll take you now if you don’t mind a short walk.”

  He gave her an encouraging smile. “I think I can rearrange my schedule for that.”

  A pretty blush infused her skin, making his fangs ache. He’d made a conscious effort not to feed from any of the women who held the locket, but he was damned tempted to make an exception in Angelica’s case.

  Angelica pulled on her red wool coat and mittens, then grabbed her cup of hot chocolate. “Ready?”

  Cullen didn’t bother to comment. Really he had no choice. Now that he’d found Angelica and obtained her interest, it was just a matter of timing about when to approach her about the locket.

  They left the warmth of the coffee shop and strolled side by side, hot drinks in hand, down Main Street.

  “Elegant Artifacts is up here half a block.”

  “You said you inherited the shop?”

  “My mother and I were business partners.”

  He smelled her heat and the faint flowery scent of her soap on the frigid evening air. “That certainly makes her passing even more of a burden for you.”

  Angelica bit her lip. “It definitely put a strain on things.”

  They stopped in front of a darkened storefront. The hand-painted sign had a Victorian flourish, the curves of the letters accented with sweeps and curling bits that marked it as one of a kind rather than some average font.

  “Elegant Artifacts. That’s charming.”

  Angelica smiled. “I came up with it when I was twelve.” She dug in her purse for her keys, then opened the door. Cullen glanced through the wide windowpanes. Dark forms hid in the shadows of her shop. But as the lights flickered to life, he could see they were no more than furniture and statuary.

  They stepped inside. The smells of lavender and rose, aged wood, lemon oil and that certain mustiness that clung to old things saturated the air. The floors were hardwood, the high ceilings had embossed brass tiles and the walls were exposed brick. He had to give her credit for being both a businesswoman and someone with a good eye. She’d arranged the shop in little

  vignettes, each area showcasing not only the furniture but also the smaller knickknacks and more fragile items to their best advantage. “I like the layout. You’ve done a lovely job with arranging the shop.”

  Angelica locked the door behind them and checked the closed sign hanging in the window. “Don’t want anyone thinking we’re still open just because the lights are on.”

  Cullen smiled. He didn’t want to be interrupted, either. “Surely they know you have business hours?”

  Angelica shrugged. “It’s a small town. Sometimes those things don’t always matter. People around here heavily rely on personalized customer service.”

  She followed on his heels as he slowly strolled through the store, his fingers grazing the smooth, elegant carved curves of a settee or the cool marble edge of a tabletop. “You have some excellent pieces here. Do you get much business from out of state?”

  “A few tourists mostly. There’s a few designers that come on shopping trips once or twice a year.”

  He nodded. Staying afloat as a small business had to be difficult enough, but being one that specialized in older, more valuable pieces had to be almost impossible when people labored under the impression that new pressboard atrocities would function just as well to grace their homes.

  “Would you mind if I tagged a few pieces? There are several that have caught my eye that I know my clients would appreciate.”

  The air around Angelica fairly hummed with excitement. “Of course!” She hurried back to her office area at the back of the shop and came out with a sheet of stickers. “Mark anything you’d like.”

  He spent the next half hour marking more than a dozen items for purchase. Cullen took his time. He knew the worth of what she had, probably better than she did, which should have made quick work of his purchases, but he didn’t want to appear rushed.

  Angelica made notations on a pad of paper of each item he selected and drew up a bill of sale. “Will there be anything else?” She smiled.

  Cullen purposely gazed about the shop before coming back to her and the golden lo
cket that lay tantalizingly just above the creamy swells of her cleavage.

  “Since you buy and sell, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to sell that locket to me?” He tried for nonchalance, making it prosaic enough to be passed off as easily as a comment on the weather.

  Her hand closed reflexively on the locket. “No.” She trembled a bit. “Sorry. Um, it’s not for sale.”

  Cullen wasn’t taken aback. He’d expected her to balk at the suggestion. “What about for ten thousand dollars?”

  Angelica blinked, her eyes turning round and mouth dropping open slightly. “What?”

  Cullen waved his hand. “I can see that hasn’t swayed you. Too low. Fifty thousand?”

  “I said—”

  “Seventy-five.”

  “It’s not—”

  “One hundred.” She just stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. He knew he was bordering on the insane, but he wanted to know how far he could push her. Not everyone could wrap their brain around the idea of being offered a huge sum of money, let alone immortality. “Come, now. Everything has a price. Five hundred thousand dollars.”

  Her mouth snapped shut and she gave a slight shake to her head, making the tendrils of her hair sway about the edges of her oval face. “Not this.”

  “I see.” Cullen leaned in closer and flashed her a smile. He was enormously pleased when he heard her breath catch in response. “That’s precisely what I was hoping to hear.”

  Angelica’s brows drew together in confusion. “Why? Is being told no some kind of novelty for you?”

  Cullen tilted his head to the side. “Yes and no. I’ve had plenty of people tell me no. But not when passing my test.”

  “Test? What are you talking about? Did you really intend to purchase all those antiques or were you here for something else, Mr. McCormack?”

  “Ouch. Back that quickly to Mr. McCormack. I’d rather hoped we were past that. I am purchasing the pieces. They’re good pieces. I just am rather more interested in other things, as well.”