“Hmmm.” He trailed a hand down her arm. “Goose bumps again.”
The hand went back to her neck. His lips followed. Gavin held the hair at her nape and tugged, pulling her head back and exposing her throat to the cold night air and his mouth.
Goose bumps. She felt them everywhere.
Gavin kissed across her collarbone. “Were ye thinking about me biting ye?”
Her heart took off at a gallop just as his lips reached her pulse point.
“I think ye were,” he murmured. “And I think ye fancy the idea.”
God yes, I love the idea, and I must be going crazy.
Chloe shut her eyes and said nothing.
“Just so ye know,” Gavin said. “When I bite you, I will enjoy a taste from yer pretty neck.” He nipped her skin lightly. “But when I’m really hungry”—his hand slipped from the top of her thigh to the inside, dragging up, up, up until Chloe gasped—“there’s nothing like a nice bite right here.” He pinched the soft flesh just below the juncture of her thighs. “When I’m really hungry.”
Without another word, Gavin slid her to the side, leaving her breathless on the bench of the hot tub as he stood and climbed out, sporting an erection that made Chloe think very unprofessional thoughts about her employer.
She wasn’t going to whimper. She refused.
But she wasn’t going to sleep much either.
Gavin took a deep breath when he reached the solarium that led to the stairs of his penthouse. Leaving Chloe in the hot tub, wet and ready for him, was one of the hardest things—no pun intended—he’d done in over a hundred years.
“You’re playing the long game,” he muttered. “It’s worth it.”
He’d been wooing the woman for months, seducing her in slow bites and always leaving her hungry for more. Tonight, when she’d inadvertently brought up turning and then—fuck his luck—Gavin feeding from her, he’d nearly lost his mind. Between that and the realization he’d had the night before, his lust and his bloodlust were raging.
He gripped the erection that threatened to rip his swimming suit and tried to think about anything but Chloe. Outside. On his roof. Hot and wet and—
“I’m a fucking numpty. Why did I leave?” He was just about to walk back outside when the house phone rang.
Walking over to the small desk, he punched the speakerphone button. “Whoever this is, you’d better have an excellent reason for calling.”
3
He listened to the voice on the other end of the line without flinching.
“Tell me why,” he demanded.
“I told you, it’s a business matter.”
“It’s never only a business matter, Vivian. Not with you.”
Her laugh grated against his skin and killed any hint of arousal Chloe had provoked.
“Don’t you trust me?” she asked.
“Not even a little.”
“I’ll be there in a few days,” she said. “I didn’t hear back from you, so this is your courtesy call. I’ll expect an introduction, mon loup.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Who are you bringing with you?”
“Renard, of course.”
“He has Veronica’s information. Tell him to call her with details.”
“Very well. I’m dying to see your new place, Gavin. I hear it’s quite delicious.”
Even the way she said his name grated. Gahveen.
“I’ll see you next week.” He hung up the phone. She didn’t afford him any courtesy, so why should he give her any? She would intrude in his life at her leisure with no consideration for him. Vivian didn’t ask permission. She assumed.
Gavin wrapped a thick towel around himself and grabbed another for Chloe. She’d said she wanted to spend the night at the loft since Ben and Tenzin were leaving for Puerto Rico soon. It was time for her to go.
He hit another button on the phone. “Abraham.”
“Yes, boss?”
“Chloe needs a ride back to the loft. Fifteen minutes, please.”
“Of course.”
Vivian and Chloe. A knot of dread settled in Gavin’s stomach. He didn’t want Vivian to know anything about Chloe. Not yet. She’d know eventually if things went according to his plans, but the longer he could put it off, the easier life would be.
He walked back outside and saw her with her eyes closed, leaning against the side of the hot tub. Beads of sweat ran down her temples, following the line of her graceful neck.
Vivian wouldn’t touch her. She was too precious. Too breakable.
“Chloe.” He spoke from a distance.
She opened her eyes. “Hey.” Her voice was a little breathless. Unlike Gavin, who’d had cold water doused on him by Vivian’s phone call, Chloe was still breathless and wanting.
Fuck me.
“I’m very sorry”—he had to make his voice brusque—“but I’m going to have to leave. I thought I had more time tonight, but I don’t.”
She frowned and sat up straight. “Oh. Um… okay. Should I call Abe—?”
“I already called him. He’ll be waiting downstairs in fifteen minutes.” He carefully placed the towel next to the hot tub on the redwood bench and stepped back. “If you don’t need me—”
“I’m fine.” Her eyes revealed her confusion. “Go… do what you need to do. Everything all right at the bar?”
“Yes.” He wanted to reassure her somehow, but he didn’t want to explain Vivian. “There’s something I have to talk to Cormac about. It came up at the last minute.”
“Right.” Chloe climbed out of the hot tub, steam rising from her glowing brown skin.
Gavin wanted to bite her. He wanted to wrap her up in the soft towel and cart her to his bed. He couldn’t do any of those things. Not with Vivian’s arrival hanging over his head.
Chloe wrapped the towel around herself and forced a smile to her lips. “Okay. See you.”
He bent down and kissed the arch of her cheek. “Tomorrow night. Sleep well, dove.”
The endearment softened her expression, but only a little. “Night. I’ll see you after rehearsal tomorrow. I’m working until closing.”
“Good.”
Gavin walked back in the house and down to his office before he could do or say anything that would reveal the churning anger in his belly. He wasn’t angry with Chloe, and he didn’t want her to even entertain the thought. The inevitable mess that Vivian would bring was not her concern. He only hoped he could shield her from it for a little while longer.
“I don’t know.” Chloe sat on the ground, stretching her hamstrings while Arthur took measurements from her partner. “He was… distant. Not like himself. It was weird.”
“Chloe, all your friends are weird,” the costume designer mumbled through lips holding pins.
“Except for you.”
Arthur removed the pins from his mouth and his jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon. I am the weirdest of all.”
Chloe’s dance partner, Paulo, looked over his shoulder. “You and Drew have been living together for three years, Arthur. He works in finance and you’ve adopted three rescue dogs. You’re like the most stable person I know.”
Chloe nodded. “I’m afraid it’s true.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Take it back. Both of you.”
Paulo continued, “Chloe, on the other hand, has a part-time not-relationship with her mysterious, hot boss, and I’m pretty sure she’s sleeping with both her other roommates. She makes the rest of us look boring.”
She put her head in her hands. “I’m not sleeping with either of my roommates.”
Paulo rolled his eyes. “Then you’re an idiot. ’Cause I’ve seen ’em.”
“Agreed.” Arthur started pinning the seams of the flowing shirt Paulo would wear over his flesh-toned tank top. The burgundy color would be stunning against Paulo’s light brown skin and shoulder-length black hair.
Chloe and Paulo were only one of five pairs of dancers who would be performing three new contemporary dance pieces at th
e theater on the Lower East Side. Far from the simple, skintight minimalism shown in most modern dance, this time the choreographer had asked for flowing costumes that almost resembled feathers.
The choreographer was a personal friend of Arthur’s, which was the only reason Chloe’d even had a chance to audition. They were rehearsing at a shared space on 8th Avenue, and they had just four weeks until the performance. They had one weekend to make an impression, but she was hoping it could be a break.
It wasn’t what Chloe had dreamed of when she first moved to New York, but then what was? She’d thought she’d work her way up to Broadway; instead, she hooked up with a narcissist who tried to crush her spirit and keep her just low enough to always need his help.
The new show was her first real opportunity to shine again. She felt like she was getting her life back on track. Her confidence was growing. She was making things happen, not just reacting when life happened to her.
So why was she allowing herself to second-guess what she and Gavin shared?
“I’m overreacting,” she told Arthur. “Everyone has off nights. Everyone gets stressed out sometimes.”
“Even Tenzin?”
“Tenzin is the exception to most rules,” she muttered.
“Okay, baby, you’re done.” Arthur smacked Paulo’s butt and sent him on his way. “Don’t let me catch you calling me normal again. And tell Carrie I’m ready for her.”
Paulo gave them both a shake of his hips before he walked back to the floor. “Carreeeeeee!”
Chloe smiled at the easy camaraderie between her fellow dancers. She was a couple of years older than most of them, but they still made her feel welcome even though it was her first show in two years.
“Joking aside,” Arthur said. “The minute you feel that man trying to make you smaller or duller or anything that feels less you, get out. Do you hear me?” He leaned forward. “I like what I know of Gavin. And I like the people he calls his friends. But you’re too precious and too bright to let anyone do that to you. I could not bear to lose you again, and you always know you have a spot on our couch if you need it.”
Chloe tried not to let any tears come to her eyes. “Your dogs own your couch, Arthur.”
“Oh, shut up.” He pulled out a blue shift. “Carrie, get your blond butt over here!”
Chloe laughed. “But the dogs might let me have the horrible recliner.”
He curled his lip. “Yes, because they are my babies and they know how awful that thing is.”
“You can take the boy out of the Midwest…”
“But he’ll still inherit his grandfather’s taste in furnishings.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I know.”
“You think I’m overreacting to Gavin being weird?”
“No.” He turned the shift inside out and dropped it over the tiny blonde who came running over. “I think you should trust your instincts. If you think he’s hiding something, he’s probably hiding something.”
“I don’t think…” Chloe stopped herself.
Actually, Gavin did seem like he was hiding something. The problem with dating—or not dating?—a vampire was you had no idea if the secret the person was concealing was for your own good or just a shitty, human-type secret.
It was possible that Gavin knew about some serious threat that jeopardized the immortal population of New York City. It was also possible he wanted to break up with her and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
No, that wouldn’t be it. Gavin was blunt almost to the point of cruelty at times. If there was something he wanted to tell her, he’d just tell her. Which meant…
“I think this is something that has nothing to do with me,” she said. “I’m probably overreacting. I should be more supportive.”
“Totally,” Arthur said. “Lend the man an ear if he needs it. From what you’ve told me, he probably has a million people depending on him. He might just need a safe place to vent about something.”
“Yeah.” Chloe nodded. “You’re right.”
“I’ll be honest. I don’t understand your relationship, but the man has had the patience of Job”—Arthur raised a pair of scissors—“which of course he should have, because you needed time and you’re worth every damn minute.”
“You’re totally worth it,” Carrie said. “I have no idea what’s going on, but you’re awesome, Chloe.”
“Thanks, Carrie. You’re the sweetest.”
Arthur continued, “So we know Gavin has patience and he cares about you a lot, because he’s not an idiot. Also, he’s very, very hot for you. Because the eyes that man gives you when you’re not looking make me…” Arthur fanned his face. “It’s hot. So very hot.”
Carrie looked over her shoulder. “Can I meet him? I want to meet him.”
Chloe shook her head, but Arthur said, “Go to the Dancing Bear. That new pub on 9th. Super fun. It’s where she works, and the hot Scottish guy is her boss.”
“Ooooh. Illicit. Also, accent.”
“And kilts sometimes.”
Carrie’s eyes went wide. “For real?”
“It’s not…” Chloe put her head in her hands. “Yes. He wears kilts sometimes.”
“Because he knows she likes them,” Arthur whispered a little too loudly. “Plus he’s rich.”
Carrie made a face.
Chloe said, “But not from a trust fund.”
“Oh, nice.” Carrie nodded. “So what time does the bar close?”
“Three,” Arthur said. “And tonight I think we’re all going.”
Gavin eyed the group of dancers Chloe waved at as they came in. He recognized a few of them, and he definitely recognized Arthur even though the small man’s hair was a completely new shade of violet.
Which suited his eyes, actually. Gavin would have to compliment him when they had a chance to speak.
Arthur was a good enough friend to Chloe that he put up with the rather raucous crowd he attracted every time he visited the pub. Gavin couldn’t complain that they monopolized her, especially when they bought so many drinks.
Besides, he was meeting with Cormac that night.
“As far as I know, Vivian Lebeau has never visited my city before,” Cormac said. “Can I expect this… pleasure to be more frequent now that you’re a resident?”
Gavin grimaced. “Vivian is impossible to predict, and I haven’t seen her in over twenty years. So I wish I could tell you, Cormac. I honestly do. But I can’t.”
Cormac cast his eyes toward Chloe. “Does she know about…?”
“No, and if possible, I’d like to avoid the two of them ever meeting. It wouldn’t go well for either.”
“You’ve made your attachment clear,” Cormac said. “It’s none of my business, and I won’t say anything, but I don’t think she’s going to avoid the rumors about your relationship.”
“What rumors?” Gavin’s spine stiffened.
Cormac cocked his head. “The rumors that Gavin Wallace has found a human paramour. The rumors that he intends to steal her from Giovanni Vecchio’s aegis. The rumors that he’s so attached he might even ask Vecchio to turn her.”
Gavin could say nothing, because those were all thoughts he’d entertained at some point over the previous year. Oh, not Vecchio turning Chloe. He had someone else in mind for that. But keeping her for himself? Yes. Stealing her from Giovanni’s aegis and putting her under his own? Absolutely.
“I’d appreciate your discretion,” Gavin said. “If I can keep Vivian from knowing the extent of our relationship, I know you’d agree that it would be best for everyone.”
“I’ve never met Vivian, but I know her reputation.” Cormac took a long breath and let it out slowly. “I like Chloe. She’s also impressed people who are important to me. She’s a gifted human and a valuable member of Giovanni’s aegis. So you can be assured that as long as she’s in my city, she’s under my protection. Is that clear enough?”
“Will you make that clear to others, should it become necessary?”
“If
you think that will help.”
“Thank you, Cormac.” Gavin glanced at Chloe from the secluded table. It must be her break time, because she was taking a tray of drinks to Arthur’s table while Rafael watched the bar. “Protection offered to Chloe Reardon will garner you a favor from me.”
Cormac’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t ask for one.”
“I offered anyway.”
The corner of Cormac’s mouth turned up in a crooked smile. “Well, well, well. If you ask me, it sounds like the rumors are true.”
“Is he looking over here?” Chloe murmured to Arthur.
“He can’t keep his eyes off you. Who’s the character with him?”
“Oh, that’s Cormac. Whiskey distributor.” The lie tripped easily off her tongue. Of course, it helped that Cormac did distribute whiskey. He also had a bourbon distillery in Kentucky. And he was the head vampire in charge of New York City, but Arthur didn’t need to know that.
“Ah, he’s got that hipster look, doesn’t he? Is that…” Arthur squinted. “Is he actually wearing a pocket watch? Unironically?”
“Yes, he’s wearing it, but I can’t judge the irony,” Chloe said. “The irony is more your department than mine.”
“You know…” Arthur cocked his head. “I dig it. The tweed, the combat boots. He makes it work. Not many could, and I think the facial hair helps.”
Chloe nearly spit out the cider she was drinking. “I’ll let him know.”
“You should. My taste is impeccable.”
“I love the new hair, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Arthur beamed. “I dyed it especially for Drew’s company party two weeks ago. The purple color is exactly the same shade as the CEO’s first wife’s hair, who’s also on the board and insists on coming to the parties even though she was replaced by wife number two twenty years ago.”
“And how does the second wife feel about the first wife showing up to company parties?”
“Oh, she’s long gone.” Arthur waved his hand. “She was replaced two times over. I think he’s on number four.”
The Devil and the Dancer Page 3
