I Want You to Want Me (13 page)

Philippe laid out the cards in a Celtic cross, his brow furrowing more and more with each flip of the cards.

“Hmm,” he finally said, after perusing the major and minor arcana arranged before him. “Well, you have met him. That is very clear.”

He gave her a knowing look, raising his eyebrows in an expectant way. “Really met him, eh?”

She didn’t nod, but she was sure the heat in her cheeks, probably coloring her skin pink, was answer enough.

If it was, he didn’t react. Instead his gaze moved back to the cards. “And things feel like they aren’t going well. Not the way you want them to.”

He didn’t need to be a psychic to tell that, she was sure. She knew she looked hurt and frazzled.

“Princes,” he muttered again. “Such a ridiculously noble lot.”

Erika frowned at that. She personally didn’t see Vittorio’s behavior this evening as noble. He’d basically told her all he wanted was a one-night stand. Not that she should have assumed more. That was her own fault. But still Vittorio hadn’t acted noble—even if she had misunderstood.

“He’s upset.”

Erika snapped out of her own thoughts. Upset about what? That he’d had sex with her? That wasn’t flattering. Was he upset that she’d clearly wanted more? In which case, oh well for him.

“And he’s feeling guilty.”

Erika tried not to roll her eyes. Again, guilty over what? She breathed in deeply and tried hard to tamp down her disappointment and annoyance. It wasn’t as if she’d asked him about his feelings before she’d jumped in the sack with him. She was as much a part of this mess as he was. And she knew he ran hot and cold before she’d done what she’d done.

In her past experience, if a relationship was ambivalent from the start, and there was no real friendship, but only lust, then things were doomed from the get-go.

But then again, she didn’t want to sit here and hear that Vittorio was having doubts and regrets. She knew that and hearing it again was like poking at her heart with a stick. It didn’t feel nice, at all.

“Oh, yes, you are very disappointed with how things played out.”

Again, no psychic ability needed there. She was sure disappointment was clear in her whole demeanor.

“He’s back here to deal with a major problem,” Philippe said. “I didn’t see that before. Something that he’s really worried about.”

What could that be?
For a moment Erika’s hopes rose. Was that what had his behavior changing so readily? Was there something going on with him that didn’t have anything to do with her?

She immediately cast aside that idea along with her optimism. It wasn’t wise to think that way. Vittorio could very easily just not be interested in her. And she didn’t want to keep looking for signs of interest if they weren’t really there.

“But things are not over between the two of you. Not by a long shot.” He pointed to the Lovers card. “He will be back.”

Erika again felt a wave of hope wash through her, making her heart skip slightly like a flat stone over water. Things weren’t over. She wanted to hear that. But then again, she didn’t want this roller coaster of aloofness, then lust, then back to coldness.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Philippe even gave her a pointed look; that kind of insulted, reprimanding look that only an offended gay man could give.

“Don’t you doubt me,” he said. “I never once said this love affair was going to be easy. I just said that it would happen. It has. And it will continue to happen.”

Erika immediately felt contrite. After all, Philippe had been right far more often than not, and he had also become her friend. He wasn’t telling her any of this to hurt her.

Still she was scared. Her attraction to Vittorio was too intense, her feelings growing out of control too quickly. And that sex. Even now it was hard not to sigh just thinking about it.

“Now, I know you aren’t in the mind-set to believe this,” Philippe said slowly, tapping the Three of Cups card as he spoke. “But this card refers to home. To domestic life. He’s going to be spending a lot of time with you.”

Erika recalled how he’d left. Without looking back. She had a hard time imagining home and hearth with the man who’d beat feet away from her.

“Well, he currently lives upstairs from me, if that’s what you mean.”

Philippe gave her a pleased smirk. “See, didn’t I say he was right above you last time you were here?”

She nodded begrudgingly.

“Well, I can tell you with all certainty that he will be back in your life soon. Very soon. And spending a lot of time with you.”

Erika nodded, trying to disguise her skepticism, because she knew it would hurt her friend’s feelings.

“I can’t see what has him so worried. It’s definitely an external problem. Something that was there even before he met you.” He studied the cards, then slowly understanding dawned, lighting his eyes. “It is another woman.”

Erika’s heart sank, dropping to the pit of her belly, stealing her breath. She’d never considered Vittorio would have another woman. Now that Philippe had said the words, she wondered why not. He was a handsome man. A beautiful man. Why wouldn’t he be involved with someone? And that would explain his reticence and indecision with her.

“But I can’t get a firm feeling of that relationship. It’s very complicated.”

Erika nodded, even as her mind buzzed with this new idea. Why hadn’t she thought of this?

“And did you know there is a large age difference between you two?”

Erika blinked, not immediately following the transition in topic. “Yes, I noticed.” She had, since Jo had pointed it out. But really, when they were together she never thought about it. She supposed, however, that it might be an issue for Vittorio. Especially if this other woman was younger, closer to his age. God, what if she was only nineteen or twenty? That could be very likely. Erika was willing to bet Vittorio was only twenty-three or twenty-four himself.

“This idea does bother him, but won’t eventually. He just needs to come to terms with it.”

Come to terms? That sounded highly unromantic. God, he thought of her as an old lady.

“But he will definitely be back. He can’t stay away.”

She tried to take comfort in that, but between the idea that he was involved with some cute young thing, and that he saw her as ancient—well, she wasn’t feeling the least bit better.

“Hmm,” Philippe said, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes as he studied the Queen of Swords card, inverted. “This seems to be very important.” He paused for a second. “There is someone around you who you should be aware of. Very aware of. This is not a good person. I see a lot of darkness and…” He shook his head. “Just be very aware of anyone new in your life. And careful.”

Erika frowned. “Is it a man or woman?” Her first thought was maybe this was the person related to Vittorio. His slighted lover. Again she got the image of a sweet young girl, in love with Vittorio and heartbroken. She couldn’t seem to conjure any of her own past love interests who would want to hurt her.

Philippe shook his head again, his gaze distant, as he tried to see, or feel, or however he perceived the psychic realm. “I can’t tell. But I do see—” He shook his head again. “I know this sounds overdramatic, but I see evil. You need to be aware and very careful.”

She considered that, then for some reason Maksim entered her mind. Why she couldn’t say. He certainly hadn’t given off the vibe of evil, but he did make her—uneasy. And he was the only new person she could think of having met.

But from the tone of Philippe’s voice, she knew she had to be careful, and chills snaked down her spine.

V
ittorio paced back and forth in the doorway across the street from the shop where Erika had been for well over an hour.

A fortune-teller’s shop. Likely the same place she’d gone before. He frowned at the teacup-shaped sign with scrolled red lettering, wondering why Erika put so much stock in this type of thing. But she clearly did. And he wondered what the fortune-teller would have to say about his cold dismissal of Erika earlier this evening.

What
was
the person telling her? Vittorio definitely couldn’t deny that psychics existed. He’d seen far more incredible things in his long life than a person who could get visions of the future, but he did wonder if this person was legitimate, or just taking the money of a woman needing someone to talk to.

Except Erika had plenty of good friends. Maggie. Her other close friend…he struggled for the name, only having met her once before. Jo? He was sure she knew others who would give her sounder advice than a French Quarter fortune-teller.

He was tempted to transform into shadow and go in there, eavesdropping like a nosy neighbor. Or a jealous boyfriend.

He shoved that notion aside and paced again in the narrow alcove of a closed bookstore. As he turned again, beginning to think he’d wear a groove in the cracked cement of the stoop before she finally came out, a movement down the street caught his attention. It was a person.

The figure paused, moving to lean against the wall, trying to appear casual. A person waiting for someone, just like Vittorio was.

Except Vittorio looked agitated and a tad stalker-ish. He stopped his pacing so he wasn’t quite so noticeable. Not that his behavior was likely of any interest to the person down on the corner.

The dark figure was tall and muscular, clearly male. Vittorio watched him for a moment, then returned his attention to the shop where Erika was. Nothing had changed there. Except the woman who’d been seated behind a counter by the cash register was now sweeping. Getting ready to close. Erika should be out soon.

Vittorio’s attention returned surreptitiously to the person at the corner. The man was situated in a place that would allow him to see when Erika left the shop too. He paused, wondering why he’d even think that. Clearly this person was waiting for someone. Was it Erika?

Vittorio couldn’t shake the feeling this guy was up to something. Maybe just a mugger. But quickly Vittorio dismissed that idea. There was something different about him, that went beyond a run-of-the-mill menace.

Vittorio remained totally motionless, concentrating on him. Even with the distance between them, Vittorio suddenly realized why this guy was making him ill at ease. He was not human.

Try as he might, he couldn’t pinpoint what type of being he was, but he knew for certain that the tall figure clinging to the shadows of the street corner was not mortal.

Vittorio’s already cool skin needled with chills. He’d been prepared for the possibility that his mother could be watching Erika. He hadn’t bargained on any other preternatural creature. That worried him.

He regarded the figure for a moment longer, trying to decide if he should approach him, just to be safe. But just as Vittorio would have stepped off the stoop, the other creature casually stepped out into the streetlights and started down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

Vittorio instantly felt stupid. Was he going to suspect that everyone was out to hurt Erika just because of his own guilt over last night? That didn’t make any sense.

After all, humans would be shocked how many preternatural creatures walked among them. Especially in New Orleans, which seemed to be a haven for all beings supernatural. He often wondered if that was because Anne Rice brought the place into vogue with her vampire books, or if they were already here, and she just knew it.

Either way, the only preternatural he needed to protect Erika from was his mother. And of course himself. He was already failing on that count.

“Vittorio? What are you doing here?”

His train of thought froze and he slowly turned to look at the speaker. Erika regarded him with a surprised expression.

“I was…” What the hell was he supposed to say? He was standing on the sidewalk like he’d stalked her. Which he sort of had. “I was looking for you.”

He nearly rolled his eyes at his lack of originality. He might as well have admitted he’d followed her.

“Why?” she asked, not sounding particularly pleased.

“I wanted…” God, he sounded like a stammering idiot. “I wanted to tell you I was sorry for leaving the way I did.”

Okay, that wasn’t what he’d intended to say at all.

Erika’s finely arced brows rose as if she really hadn’t expected that. Of course, nor had he. He’d intended to stay away, keeping an eye on her from afar. He never intended to discuss what had happened between them. Talking about it seemed far too much like opening Pandora’s Box. Reminding him how much he’d like to be with her again.

Hell, who was he kidding? He wanted to make love to her again right here, right now. With psychics, unidentified preternatural creatures and random pedestrians watching. This was all so dangerous.

“Is that all you wanted to say?” she asked.

If he was smart, yes. But his big mouth seemed to have developed a mind quite separate from his own. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Erika shifted, then wrapped her arms across her middle. “I am. A little confused but all right.”

He could identify with that feeling. “About what?” Couldn’t he just stop? Did he have to keep getting deeper and deeper into this conversation?

“I’m very confused about you. About what you want from me.”

He didn’t know either. He kept telling himself all of this was to protect her, yet everything he’d done thus far dragged her in deeper and put her more at risk.

“I mean, one minute you are cold,” Erika continued, obviously believing he didn’t intend to answer, which, given his loose lips at the moment, would have been a good thing. “The next you are so sweet. And then last night, that was wild and spontaneous and really, really good.”

She put a lot of emphasis on those reallys, and Vittorio couldn’t squelch the satisfaction that filled his chest. Their sex had been very good. Crazy good. The best.

“I just don’t know what you want. And you don’t seem willing to tell me. Not even a hint.”

His premature feeling of pride vanished as he struggled to find something to say. Something that wouldn’t hurt her feelings, but that wouldn’t lead them right back to her bed. But nothing came to him.

“Is it because I’m too old for you?”

Vittorio blinked. “What?”

“Well, I mean you can only be twenty-three or twenty-four, right? That makes me nearly ten years older than you. Is that what is putting you off?”

Vittorio stared at her. She was kidding, right? She thought that was what was making him act so inconsistently?

First of all, he tended to forget that he only appeared to be in his early twenties, in spite of all the years he’d lived. Not to mention, he’d never considered her age, period. Which also showed how badly he was doing at keeping a grip on his attraction to her. Because he should have thought about his age.

If she knew the real discrepancy in their ages, she’d be horrified. He was ancient. And a lampir.

“I’ve never considered your age,” he said honestly, but instead of the look of relief he’d expected, she only frowned. “And I am much older than I look,” he added.

Her frown changed to a look of skepticism.

“Okay,” she finally said. “Why did you leave? Is there someone else?”

Wow, she wasn’t pulling any punches. She was also giving him the out he needed. And should take. But fool that he was, he didn’t.

“Someone else? No. I just think things got out of hand last night. We barely know each other.” God, he sounded like a freakin’ prude. Uptight and a little censorious. Which was exactly what his brother always accused him of being.

He considered for a moment that maybe his brother was right, then he discarded the idea. He wasn’t as frivolous and carefree as Ren, but then Ren hadn’t spent the years he had surrounded with their mother’s insanity and obsessive love. Vittorio was cautious.

Or he had been cautious until he met Erika.

“That’s true,” Erika said, and for a moment he thought she was addressing his thoughts rather than what he was saying. It took him a moment to follow along. “Things did get out of hand, but why can’t we get to know each other? Go slower.”

She tilted her head slightly, her dark hair falling against her cheek. His fingers twitched to touch the silky strands, to tuck it behind the perfect shell of her ear.

And that was why. He didn’t seem to have a
slow
with this woman. He, who’d spent his eternity thus far, debating his every move. Taking the time to make sure what he did was right. He, who’d prided himself on his control and moderation, after knowing none of that in his youth. He had none of that restraint when it came to Erika. He wanted to act on every impulse in his body. And some of those impulses scared him.

But instead of telling her, no, plain and simple, he felt his head nod. “Maybe—we’ll see.”

As soon as the words were out, he wondered what the hell he was thinking. Couldn’t he come up with some excuse why they couldn’t be together? Couldn’t he go back to her suggestion of there being someone else? After all, his mother was someone else. And something else, too.

“How about we head back to my place and order pizza? Or we could go somewhere. One of my favorite restaurants is right over on Iberville.”

His first instinct was to go with her to the restaurant, to keep them in public, where he couldn’t act on his desire for her. Except his mother could be around. She couldn’t get too close to him or he’d sense her, but she could possibly get close enough to see them together, especially in a crowded place where all the different mortal energies might mask hers.

Keeping himself and Erika out of crowded places was the best way to keep her safe. Crowd—safe from him. Private—safe from his mother. Privacy was the better option. Hell, the best option was to say away from her altogether. But that wasn’t happening. Clearly.

“Pizza sounds good,” he said, wondering how on earth this was going to work. Being near her, talking, yet not wanting. Or more correctly, not acting on that want. Even now, he found himself tempted to move closer to her as they started down the sidewalk.

But he would maintain control and keep his distance until he could find out more about his mother.

Erika took down plates, setting them on the kitchen counter, then she busied herself with looking for paper napkins. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the change of events tonight.

Philippe had said Vittorio would be back, which she hadn’t believed—funny, given that she’d believed her psychic friend up to this point. Or mostly believed him. But not only had Vittorio come back, he’d been waiting outside the tea leaf shop. Talk about a fast-acting prediction.

Yet, he seemed genuinely confused by her asking about their age differences and the possibility of another woman, though Philippe seemed certain about both those predictions too.

After much rummaging, she finally found the napkins. Behind her, she heard Vittorio moving around the room, pacing like a caged tiger. She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered that he was staying, since his agitated movement implied he’d rather not be here. She still didn’t understand what was going on inside him. Vittorio was a mystery, and it was driving her nuts.

But she did want him here. Despite the weirdness of their relationship thus far, she wanted him. She wanted more time with him.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, feeling as nervous as he was acting. “I have soda. Water. Tea.”

She turned away from the counter, not noticing immediately that he’d stopped pacing and was studying the sculpture she’d been working on earlier today.

Finally, he glanced at her. “Nothing for me, thanks.”

Erika wasn’t sure if he realized what he was looking at. That the bust done on rough, broad curves was actually himself.

She’d hoped the features were too coarse, too rudimentary to be recognized, but when his dark eyes met hers, she knew he saw who it was.

“Is this me?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” was all she could think to say.

He stared at it again, then slowly shook his head. “No. It’s good. Very good.”

She crossed over to stand beside him.

“I like it,” she admitted, even looking at it critically, trying to see it from his perspective. She actually liked the primitive quality of the sculpture, although she hadn’t intended to keep it that way. Yet, it somehow touched a part of Vittorio she hadn’t realized she was capturing.

It somehow showed the starkness underneath Vittorio’s breathtakingly beautiful exterior. Not a harshness, but the jagged hurt and pain she saw hidden there. Although she hadn’t even realized it was there until she’d started using her other senses to create him. Her sense of touch rather than her sight.

She glanced up at him, suddenly afraid she’d pried too far into his psyche. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” he said simply, and she believed him. Relief flooded her, making her knees a little weak. She stared at him for a moment, then her eyes dropped to his lips.

Suddenly, he was leaning in, or maybe she was, but she knew for certain they were going to kiss. And God, she wanted it.

Then the buzzer from the front gate filled the room with a loud, unwelcomed noise, shattering the moment.

Vittorio stepped back as if coming out of a spell. “Pizza,” he murmured. “I’ll go get it.”

Erika could only nod and watch as he hurried toward her door, disappearing out into the darkness.

What were they doing?

Vittorio reached the front gate in record time for not using his preternatural abilities. The delivery boy, a lanky, black kid with a red baseball hat perched on an impressive afro, waited with a square, greasy box. Fortunately the kid didn’t seem to expect conversation, polite or otherwise, because he took the money and headed back to a bicycle with other pizzas bungee-corded to a back rack. He’d already pushed off and sped away before Vittorio could close the gate.