“That place’ll be legally mine by the end of the month,” he told the demon.
“Just as well, because Drake’s keen on getting started on the lounge bar.” Blade sipped his drink, and it must have done something for him because those tiny horns, only perceptible to another supernatural when dormant, twitched. But his expression changed when he received a notification on his smartphone. “I better head off now.” He added, “Our good old friends.”
Shaun wasn’t the only who had dealings with the mob—Blade was practically in bed with them.
“You know me,” said Shaun. “I don’t mind a drink on my own.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
“Take your time. I’ve dumped your ass plenty of times for these guys. I know what the score is.”
As Blade sauntered away, over a dozen pairs of eyes followed him. Being an owner of this club and a hell of a looker meant the demon had no shortage of men and women hankering after him. But he was so caught up with the club, and keeping things sweet between supernatural and human agencies, that that was all that drove him these days. Practically a celibate, that guy…come to think of it, when was the last time he got laid?
Why the fuck was Shaun thinking about his friend, when Oasis was a short trip away, full of slithering bodies? And there was plenty of other choice, both on the Hooked app and surrounding him. But instead, he remained seated, restless after a few moments. If Blade wasn’t coming back for a while, he might as well head home and catch up with his accounts…and then his gaze went and met that of a female vampire sat opposite, also in a section that had no black screens to hide its occupants. She leaned against the black leather, the perfect foil for her pale skin. Her thin face was sharp but her body voluptuous, shown off by a purple corset laced so tight that her nipples nearly peeked over the top of the material. Beneath it, she wore a white skirt that flowed to the floor, creating waves around her ankles. When her eyes met his, she bit her bottom lip with her fang, her gaze flashing red. But was he tempted? No. He needed to get over this messed up fixation with that human. One-night stands had always done it for him—they kept the need to mate and mark at bay and didn’t interfere with his priority: adding properties to his portfolio. Whatever this ridiculous infatuation, time to expel it from his system.
His shifter hearing picked up soft moans from the other side of the black screen next to him, putting him on edge. If the beings behind the silk got any louder, security would be over to direct them to a pleasure zone or private room. He pulled out his mobile and opened the hookup app. If he was here, he might as well make the most of it, and he hadn’t been laid for two weeks…after flicking through fifty-odd profiles, he realized he was hoping for the human to pop up on the screen. What the hell was he thinking? He’d fucked her for a whole night, and even that was more than the situation warranted.
He put away his smartphone to focus on his drink, but his instinct dragged his attention back to the vampire sat at the nearby table. Her eyes were still stuck to him, and when she leaned forward to pick up her drink from the table, she lingered, giving him an eyeful of that impressive cleavage. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was out on the prowl, and as if to prove it, his shifter senses picked up the pheromones that drifted from her. Her hazel eyes widened, as if she knew, and she gave him a smile that exposed even teeth along with that tiny set of fangs. When he returned her smile, it was all the invitation the vamp needed, and she glided over to sit next to him.
Her voice was deep. “Alone?”
“Not anymore. Can I offer you a drink?
She giggled, an unexpected sound from someone with her tone, and then trailed a long red fingernail over his jawline, pausing at his neck. “Yes, please.”
She had some cheek. “I’m not into that stuff.” If that was what she hankered after, she should be in the Blood Zone, where there were plenty of beings who got their kicks out of feeding vampires. “But fancy anything from the bar?”
She shook her head, making her hair fan out. “I’ve had enough of that stuff—no damn nutrition. It’s my first time in this goddamn place. I was led to believe it would be overflowing with talent.”
“Isn’t it?”
Her eyes traveled around the lounge, checking out beings who wouldn’t be out of place on magazine covers. “You know the problem with being in a club full of lookers? After a while, everyone appears the same. You need average beings for the sake of relativity.” As she leaned toward him, for a moment he could have sworn a pink bud was exposed over the top of her stiff corset. “I heard the club was packed over the full moon. Were you here?” The memory of how he’d spent that night with the human sent blood rushing to his cock. As her eyes flashed red, the scent of her arousal invaded his senses. “That good?”
He didn’t need the human to purge his body of this raging heat. “Want to get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask. Do you have a room booked?”
“No, but there’ll be something available.” As he opened the hotel app, he didn’t add he was a VIP member, which meant he had access to a reserved cluster of rooms; such details weren’t classy.
She was more worked up than he was, because he hadn’t even confirmed the room booking before she shifted even closer and placed her hand on the inside of his thigh. For a moment there, he thought she was going to grab his cock. Not that he would be turned off if PDAs were her thing; it’s just that they were in the wrong section for that kind of kinky. “I’m heading to the Blood Zone later, but before that, I fancy me some wolf.”
And he wanted this vampire, if only to push the mortal from his head.
By the time they were inside the hotel room, his muscles were in agony and his bloody mind full of sexual scenarios…all of which featured the human. He closed the door behind them and then pressed the vampire up against the wall, in the same position he had kissed the mortal that night. He slammed his mouth on hers, pressing his tongue between her lips, but it wasn’t…the same? But she knew how to work him as her hands moved down his chest, squeezing him through his pants until his beast raged with the need to fuck. When she unzipped his trousers, he didn’t bother pulling off her clothes and shoved up the hem of her skirt before entering her, panting as he pumped inside her. Judging by her loud moans, she enjoyed it more than he did. Way more than he did. It was over fast.
“Meet again?” she asked. When he did not respond, “A onetime only male, are you?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She pulled down the skirt and spread it out around her legs, and he couldn’t help picturing her atop a cake. How the fuck did she not fall over that mass of billowing material? “There’s plenty more fish in the sea. Especially this sea.”
After the door closed behind her, his head went into overdrive. What was wrong with him? Something to do with the stress at work? He downplayed the antique shop issue with Blade earlier, but one of Drake’s men had passed by today, the big fucker of a representative saying that the old man’s kid was still causing legal trouble, and it was up to Shaun to ensure the lounge bar deal went ahead as planned. That must be it…who the hell was he kidding? That kind of shit was a daily occurrence. If not that, then what was it?
The human.
Fuck that. There was more than enough to worry about with property acquisitions, loan sharks and the mob, without pulling that messed up scenario into the bargain.
CHAPTER FOUR
* * *
I WON’T LOSE YOU.
Angie pressed her nose against the window that had seemed so big when she was a little girl. That sign on the locked door, telling passers-by that the antique shop was closed until the legal dispute was settled, ripped her bloody heart out. Some regular customers had been in touch since dad’s death to offer support and ask if they could help. She had assured them that the legal issues were being sorted and she would inform them when she was ready to reopen the shop.
Why didn’t dad come to her when he needed money?
It wasn’t the first time she’d regretted that. When mum got sick and the medical bills swamped dad, he’d gone to the last place he should have—a loan shark—and put the property up as collateral against a fast track loan. By the time Angie learned of what he’d done, dad had sunk into a debt that drained his bank account and soul.
I didn’t want to put all that responsibility on you, Angie.
But he should have. He was her dad and had looked after her, and when it was her turn, he wasn’t able to ask. That good old Parker pride. They’d gotten through mum’s death together and thought they could support each other through this situation, too. Over the past few years, she did what she could to help dad with the repayments, but it was never enough…nowhere near enough, what with the interest eating up most of the money she put aside. And then dad died last year. Juan, a lawyer experienced in such scenarios, had been her last bet.
But he’d given up, too. He informed her this morning that the loan had been sold on yet again—what the hell was wrong with these people?—and its new owner was a property pro who wasn’t into negotiation.
Her lawyer had asked her to call after 6, so she tried his number again. The sound of his voice gave her hope. “Any luck, Juan?”
“As I expected, Shaun Taylor won’t budge.”
“But this is illegal. I’m willing to pay back the loan.”
“You know it doesn’t work like that. You don’t have the full amount ready. There was a clause in the contract, which meant the lender could ask for full payment at any time or confiscate the property. That’s what Shaun’s doing now—”
“Again, illegal, isn’t it?”
“Legal or not, it doesn’t matter to these guys. Only a small percentage of the business they carry out is legit. Everything else is dodgy, and everyone knows it. The members of the legal system—the ones you’re hoping will back you up—they know it, too.” Tears bit her eyes. It wasn’t fair. Dad had only tried to save mum’s life. And he’d received an awful punishment for it. “The guy who purchased it has plans to convert the premises into a lounge bar—”
A lounge bar? That would destroy all that remained of the shop. Her chest clenched at the thought, making her want to cry out loud. “He can’t do that, Juan.”
“I know this man, and if he’s set on converting your dad’s shop, that’s what he’ll do. He’s got close links to the mob, Angie. In fact, a well-known mobster will be involved with the premises, has an informal partnership—”
“No…” When her eyes burned with tears, she wiped at them, pissed.
“And this Shaun Taylor’s a fucking supernatural. I’d let it go if I were you.” When she did not answer, “Having the property legally transferred into his name is just a formality for this guy. He’s told me he’ll go ahead with the construction any day now and worry about the legalities later. That’s the kind of guy he is.”
The construction would start any day now? Regardless of where she stood with the case? Her lips trembled, and she was on the verge of breaking down in sobs when her gaze landed on that sign again. Closed until further notice due to a legal dispute. She would get rid of that sign and reopen the premises as an antique shop, no matter what it took.
“Can you arrange a meeting with this Shaun Taylor guy?” she asked. “I need to talk to him.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea—”
“Please, Juan.”
Something in her voice must have hinted at desperation because he said, “I’ll try.”
After he hung up the phone, she stood before the closed shop, not caring how strange she looked as she stared at that sign. A few minutes later, a message came through from the lawyer, with an address. Shaun’s in his office now. He’ll be there until 9 and can see you. But he’ll only give you 10 minutes. I still reckon you should stay away.
Like hell she would stay away.
THE BUILDING COMPRISED SEVERAL floors, and the sign outside informed her she’d arrived at Taylor Property Developers. It looked so bloody legit. She paid the taxi driver and then, briefcase in hand, walked through the large glass doors. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t so hard done by that he needed to take over an antique shop. The spacious reception screamed of money, with expensive furniture and exclusive artworks. And was that a Claude Monet behind the glass counter, providing a backdrop for two stunning women who would have been at home in the movies or on a fashion ramp?
She cleared her throat before approaching them. “I have a meeting with Shaun Taylor.”
The brunette smiled at her. “Take the elevator to the second floor. Check in at reception there.”
She followed the instructions and ended up in a smaller but no less luxurious reception area, where she spoke to yet another lady who looked as if her sole purpose in life was to make women like her insecure. “I’m here to see Shaun Taylor.”
The receptionist pulled at a strand of her blond hair, and the way she narrowed her blue eyes, you’d think Angie was here to take something from her. Was her boss a bit of a looker, then? “Is he expecting you?”
No. I just turned up for the fun of it.
“Yes. We have a meeting.”
“About?”
Angie breathed in deep, gathering the remnants of her patience. She needed to have a cool head when she faced whoever this Shaun guy was. “It’s regarding an antique shop.”
The woman frowned over her horn-rimmed designer glasses at her laptop screen, typing something into the keyboard. “That’s right. A ten-minute appointment, which starts as of now.” She pointed at the door behind Angie. “He’s expecting you.” Tick tock.
Angie followed the woman’s manicured fingernail to the door. She knocked on it and then waited. “Go straight in,” came the receptionist’s voice. “Like I said, he’s expecting you.”
She opened the door to a plush office, with thick crème carpets and modern furniture. She stopped at the sight of the man sat in a leather armchair behind the desk, his head bent over a tablet. When the door closed, he looked up, and her eyes locked with gray ones. No…
He frowned, his voice as deep and masculine as she remembered. “You?”
As her insides turned to goddamn jelly, she was unable to respond. One look at him, and her mind went straight to that night…how he had made her feel something no other man had…but what the hell was he doing here? Surely he couldn’t be…he wasn’t…her voice popped back into her throat. “You’re Shaun Taylor?”
The only thing that pissed her off more than her own reaction? He didn’t seem at all affected to see her again. He leaned back in his armchair, his eyes traveling over her and resting at the point where her breasts strained against her blouse buttons. It was an effort to keep her hands by her side instead of using them to cover herself. “Angie Parker?” When she nodded, he glanced at the chair on the other side of the table. “Take a seat.”
She sat, placing the briefcase containing legal documents next to her. And then her bloody voice went walkabout again. But she had to do this. So what if the animal magnetism just emanated from this male, invading those parts of her that had been shut off for a long time, even while she lived with Bill. If there was a hard attractiveness about the shifter when he was in jeans and a leather jacket the other night, then today, in an expensive two-piece, he was devastating. The tailored jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, its buttons open and revealing a fitted gray shirt that highlighted his muscular chest while having the drool-inducing effect of bringing out the color of his eyes.
“I’m here to discuss the antique shop.” Yes, this male had a most unusual impact on her libido, making her insides flutter and jump in anticipation—of what?—but she needed to pull her mind to the reason she was here and keep it there. She owed it to dad not to allow a one-night stand with a shifter to get in the way of her dream.
His eyes narrowed on her face. “My lawyer has spoken to yours. I intend to convert that place into a bar.”
“But that is my shop.”
&n
bsp; “Not anymore.” He shrugged. “Your dad knew full well what he was getting into when he put it down as collateral.”
“You don’t understand. That is all I have of him.”
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “You know what? Nearly every property we’ve taken over…it’s the last something that someone has left of a dear one. If I gave into such sentiments, my firm would have closed long ago.”
As he spoke, his eyes ran over her, again lingering at the skin exposed by her blouse neckline and making her belly flip. Damn it, how the hell was she attracted to this asshole—the one responsible for snatching dad’s company right out of her hands?
“I’ve spoken to the bank,” she said. “About a loan.”
He pulled his eyes to her face. “You really think the bank will give a loan against an antique shop involved in a legal dispute?”
“Yes, they would.” She spoke with more confidence than she felt. The truth was, the bank was still considering her application.
“Look at where the property is. People in that area want upmarket bars, luxury household products and designer clothing. They don’t need an outdated antique shop.”
“Not true.” Her dad kept that business going for years, and he’d only fallen into a financial mess when mother became sick and the insurance company delayed the treatment with its bloody regulations. He hadn’t been able to save her, but Angie would save this shop. For her parents’ sake. “It was doing well, and we had a solid customer base that bought regularly from us. I just need time, and the place will be back on track.”
The job at the accountancy firm brought her no satisfaction, and her skills would be better put to use in the shop. She could see herself arranging antiques on the shelves as familiar faces waltzed in and out, and new customers stayed behind to chat over the origins of whatever recent piece she’d acquired. A warm feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She could do this.
Blood Moon Box Set Page 4
