The assistant swallowed hard and Uriel could see sweat breaking out along his brow. He nodded quickly and stuttered, “Y-yes sir. Right away.” He pocketed the bills and then reached behind the counter, where he extracted a bottle of fine, expensive French wine and a single crystal goblet.
Uriel watched as the assistant went outside, allowing the glass door to close behind him. Then he turned raised brows on Gabriel, who was no longer paying attention. He and Michael were both staring, wide-eyed at something over Uriel’s shoulder.
Uriel turned to see what they were gaping at.
Eleanore had emerged from the fitting room. She moved slowly into the overhead lights of the shop, and as she did, the lamplight caught the satin luminescence of the crimson gown and instantly awakened Uriel’s senses.
To say that the dress was stunning would have been a gross understatement. At once, Uriel could feel his jeans becoming tighter. The gown clung to Eleanore like a second skin, making it at once clear that his archess wore nothing beneath it. The color was like blood, stark and enticing against her perfect, milky-white skin.
It came to a mere few inches above the floor, but a slit that ran along one side exposed Eleanore’s long, lean leg to the men’s gazes. Her feet were strapped into silver high-heeled shoes that were designed to subtly and cleverly bring to mind bondage and restraints.
Her shoulders were bare, as the dress’s long, satin sleeves began at her upper arms, like a red carpet to the gorgeous expanse of flesh that was her collarbone and décolletage.
Uriel could barely breathe. He felt tight inside, as if someone had him in iron bands. Distantly, he was aware of the shop’s door opening behind him, and the bustling sound of someone quickly entering.
“My God,” the assistant whispered in French after a sharp intake of breath. “She is breathtaking. . . .”
Eleanore smiled nervously, flashing perfect white teeth. “Well?” she asked softly, demurely, her fingers gently brushing the fabric of the dress before she shrugged. “How do I look?”
He could hear her heart hammering behind her rib cage. She was terrified.
Uriel tried to answer, but had not yet found his breath before Michael spoke up from behind him. “Like you’ll launch a thousand ships,” he said softly.
“At the very least, start one hell of a fight, lass,” Gabriel added, with deep appreciation.
“The dress was made for you,” the assistant added with a helpless, gentle gesture. “That is obvious.” All hint of phony pretense was gone from his expression and tone.
Eleanore was finding it hard to breathe. It wasn’t that the dress was too tight, though it did fit snugly. It was the way they were all looking at her. And their words—she’d never been complimented in such a manner.
No
woman had ever been complimented in such a manner, she was certain. It was that—and the fact that Uriel had yet to speak. He was simply staring at her with slightly wide eyes so dark, they were nearly black. Their pupils had expanded, once more eating up the jade in his irises.
Hunger,
she thought, her pulse kicking up another notch.
That’s what that look is.
“You are beautiful,” he finally said, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “Now take off the dress.”
“Right,” Gabriel said from behind him, jumping into action. “I think it’s time we step outside for a bit.”
Michael needed no further hints. He strode quickly toward the door, grabbing a surprised sales attendant by the elbow as he did so.
“Why?” Why did he want her to take off the dress? Eleanore asked, her voice also a whisper.
Uriel took a step toward her and she stopped breathing just as the shop door closed once more, leaving the two of them alone. “You look like a goddess in that dress,” he told her. “I would hate to see it damaged.” Another step and he was closing the distance between them. “But I need it off of you right now.”
Ellie began to tremble. Images from the night before shot through her mind’s eye, flushing her warm and sending heat between her legs. She was shaking, not from fear, but anticipation—delicious and terrible. She had no idea what to say or what to do and she couldn’t move anyway. “But the windows . . .”
Uriel bent and, in one strong, fluid motion, he lifted her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. Then he strode with her down the hall toward the fitting room, leaving the empty shop behind them.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Y
ou’re making me nervous,” Ellie scolded as she fidgeted in the seat across from Uriel. It was Thursday night and they were alone in the back of a shiny black stretch limo; Max was driving.
“You were already nervous.”
“Well, you’re making it worse.” Eleanore turned her face toward the window, uncrossed her legs and recrossed them, then wrapped her arms around her middle. “Stop looking at me. Just look out the window or something.”
Uriel’s deep chuckle regained her attention. She cut her eyes to him to find him smiling broadly. “Not likely.” He shook his head.
Eleanore huffed in frustration. The man was insatiable. He’d just taken her against a wall in a dressing room in Paris less than three hours ago and, already, he was burning a hole through her with those hungry eyes.
It didn’t help that no matter how Eleanore sat on the seat in front of him, the provocative slit in her brand-new Lavonde gown afforded him a clear view of most of her bare leg. He, on the other hand, was dressed from head to toe in black—black jeans, black motorcycle boots, a black long-sleeved shirt, and a black leather sports coat—as was befitting a vampire.
And she felt like vampire bait.
Eleanore gritted her teeth and forced herself to stare out the window at the neon signs and streetlights that blurred as they passed by. The reception hall where the gala was to be held was a relatively small venue known as the Quixotic World Theatre House in Dallas. Max had explained to her that it was a Gothic-inspired, chandelier-lit building with a red facade and black and gold veined marble flooring. Apparently, it was private and quaint in its own way, but perfect for a vampire-actor and his Brakes Flakes fans.
The building held booths and tables inside but there were so many guests, the outside patio and garden had been expanded into the street, which was blocked off for the event. This left a lot of possible ground to Samael and his men.
They could come from anywhere.
Because of this, Max had decided that it would be a good idea to arrive at the hall early and scope the place out. Michael and Gabriel had gone ahead, in the guise of security, to field the attendants and news crews and get the lay of the theater’s neighboring areas. Azrael would be watching the proceedings from a vantage point high above the chaos, as only he could do. He would be perched on a neighboring building’s roof. At least, that was what Eleanore assumed he’d meant when he told them that he would be their eyes in the sky.
Max also hired extra “muscle” to beef up the security ratio of the crowd. Ellie knew very well that this would do no good against Samael and his minions, but that wasn’t the point. Sunlight Cinematics, the company that owned the rights to
Comeuppance
, had publicized the charity event to kingdom come, so it was going to be beyond packed. The point was to waylay any extra trouble where it might lurk—and to give Max some semblance of control over what was nearly a hopeless situation.
Ellie was stoic as her thoughts turned dark and she wondered just what Max and his archangels were planning to do if Samael popped himself into existence behind her and shoved a magical dagger through her heart.
Eleanore shared this concern with Uriel.
“It occurred to us,” he said, “but we dismissed the possibility. Samael doesn’t want you dead.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“It’s simple,” he said. “If he wanted you dead, you would be.”
Eleanore could say nothing to that. She only hoped he was right.
Uriel reached across and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently.
The car turned a corner and slowed to an idling stop behind a limousine that was emptying itself of passengers. Eleanore could see them through the window to Uriel’s right. One was the actor who played the enemy of Jonathan Brakes. The other was the actress who played Brakes’s love interest. Both were making their way through a boatload of excited fans crowding at the ropes along either side of the red carpet.
“I can’t do this,” Ellie said, not meaning to voice her thoughts out loud. She was at once overwhelmed by the throng outside the car door and unsure of what part she was to play in all of this.
“Yes, you can,” Uriel said gently, giving her hand another squeeze. Then his jade-colored eyes flashed with something impish. “Besides, you wouldn’t deny the Global Fund for Women its hefty donation by deciding to become a no-show and forcing me to become a no-show too, would you?”
Eleanore blanched. “That’s the charity this event is sponsoring?”
He nodded.
“Oh jeez.” Eleanore rolled her eyes and ran a nervous hand over her face. She was lucky she never wore makeup or it would have smeared. She sighed and her voice came out shaky. “Fine,” she croaked.
The glass that separated the passenger seats from the driver’s section slid down. Max turned and draped an arm over his seat and offered her a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine, Ellie. We’re watching you carefully. No one will even touch you. Now, are you sure you know what to do?”
“When we get out, Michael and Gabriel will escort me into the building while Christopher Daniels over here signs autographs and talks to the press.”
“Yes. And not that Mike or Gabe would allow you to, but if anyone tries to ask you any questions, don’t stop and oblige them,” Uriel added.
Eleanore didn’t like this. She understood how important it was to keep promises and support charities and all of that, but this could still be considered a brand of insane. Plus, by being rushed from the limo to the security of the building, she felt like some sort of “secret” that the famous actor was keeping. She had no doubt that the crowd would put two and two together and realize she must be the “Ellie Granger” that he’d asked out on national television. At the very least, they would expect her to stop, smile, and introduce herself like a normal, sane human being.
“What are you going to tell them?” she asked. “When they ask about me?”
“You’ll tell them she’s an old friend who’s camera shy, then move quickly on through the crowd,” Max informed him brusquely. “Just get yourself into the building as fast as inhumanly possible.”
Uriel sighed. “Right.”
Max turned back around just as the car in front of him pulled away from the curb and he was able to inch forward into its place. Uriel sat back and reluctantly released Eleanore’s hand. Immediately, her fingers curled into fists and her nails dug into the skin of her palms.
“Showtime,” Uriel whispered with a glance at the throng outside the windows. The car came to a complete stop and a tall man in a tuxedo and white gloves opened the limo door.
Uriel stepped out first and stifled the urge to put his fingers in his ears as the crowd went absolutely wild. His hearing was sharper as a vampire; the adoring din actually hurt his eardrums. But he plastered a smile to his face and took a minute to wave at his fans. Then he turned and reached back into the car to offer Ellie his hand.
Ellie stared at his hand, her eyes bright and wide with trepidation. She swallowed hard and he could hear it, despite the roar of the crowd. He was simply that tuned in to her.
“Ellie, take my hand, baby,” he said softly, hoping his voice would assuage some of her fear. She looked up into his eyes and he thought of how much he loved her. As if she could see that love transferred there in his gaze, she offered a small, brave smile and took his hand.
Protectively—possessively—his fingers closed over hers and he gave her a gentle tug to help her out of the backseat. When her long, bare leg and the hem of the gorgeous red dress were revealed to the flashing camera bulbs and the mob of fans, a hush fell over the crowd. He couldn’t blame them. She was a goddess. He felt a smile of pride tug at his lips.
She slowly stood and straightened beside him, her dark blue gaze skirting across the faces of the crowd. They were in awe of her. He could hear their hearts beating rapidly, hear their gasps, see their dropped jaws and wide eyes. Ellie wasn’t immune to the attention either; she blushed furiously beneath their scrutiny and he felt her tense beside him.
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “That’s my girl.”
When he pulled back, it was to find Michael and Gabriel in front of them, both dressed in SWAT-like attire from head to toe. “Come with us, lass,” Gabriel said as he and Michael moved to flank her on each side and Uriel reluctantly released her hand.
The hush that had fallen over the crowd lapsed into a murmur of whispers and then a din of shouted questions. The questions were directed at all of them—Christopher Daniels, the “beautiful lady in red,” and even her “bodyguards.” Once Max stepped out of the vehicle as well, they were also directed at him.