Into the Spotlight (6 page)

“No.” She tipped the glass of water up and drained it. Irritation shivered under the craving in her blood. “If I did, I wouldn’t ask a man I just met for it. I need an attorney.” Setting the glass down, she swung her legs free. “I think I should go after all.”

“Jeannie.” Malcolm’s mouth firmed into a hard line. “I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

“This is a mistake.” It hurt to slide the shoes back on her feet. “I’m sorry for all of this. It won’t happen again.”

She made it out of the sitting room and across the marble foyer of his hotel room and almost to the door before he appeared in front of her. Knowing that he could move that fast and being forcibly reminded were two different things. She froze, looking away from the intensely blue eyes that dragged her attention from the stage and made her want to delve into the darkness for the opportunity to meet him.

“Jeannie. Look at me.” The command in his words was unimpeachable. She didn’t want to, but her chin lifted to meet his stare. “Stay. Eat. Talk to me.”

“Are you compelling me?” Uncertainty quivered beneath the words.

“If you can ask the question, then I’m not and I will not. I want you to want to stay.”

“Why?” What was it about this man? He spoke and she wanted to listen. He touched her and she wanted to go up in flames. It was as though her every breath rested on the promise of his scent.

It wasn’t natural.

“Honestly?” The barest hint of a smile eased back his tense expression. “I have no idea. It would be a hell of a lot easier if you just walked out that door and we forgot all about this.”

“Part of me knows it would be easier for me as well. But the other part…”

Neither made a move to end their standoff.

“Will you give me the pleasure of your company over a meal?” Malcolm’s genteel request eased the panic racing across her nerves.

“Do you really want me to stay?”
Please say yes. Please say this is not some bizarre dream we’re trapped in.

“Do you want to stay?” He countered her question with one of his own, the deep baritone of his voice caressing her senses.

Teeth nibbling into her lower lip, she dropped her gaze to the floor. In all her years, she’d never felt so horribly torn as though she stood on the precipice of some terrible decision. A decision that once made could not be unmade. But she couldn’t see beyond the precipice. She couldn’t look into the dark and see what awaited her if she stepped over the edge.

“Yes.” The answer cost her to admit, but she did want to stay.

“Good.” Malcolm grinned and the darkness of doubt fled under the warmth of his smile. “I would very much like it if you stayed.”

He held out his arm and, before she realized she’d moved, she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. He guided her across the marble tile to the intimate table laid out for two.

Jeannie waited for him to pull out the chair before she sat. Her skin tingled as his fingers brushed the nape of her neck. He circled the table to sit opposite her.

“Do you eat food?” The moment the words popped out, she bit her lip in consternation. The uneven evening seemed to tilt beneath their feet, and she constantly pushed the edges of propriety. “And off I go, being rude again.”

Malcolm laughed. His shoulders shook with a deep, visceral, masculine chuckle. “Not at all. How many vampires have you actually met?”

“Including you? One.” She grinned, unfolding her napkin and smoothing it across her lap.

“Well, then let me assure you that I do indeed eat. I actually prefer my steak rare and my wines rarer.” The last he delivered with a waggle of his eyebrows, and she pressed two fingers against her lips to smother the laughter. His smile dimmed a fraction and he nodded. “Don’t hide your smile. It’s beautiful and your laughter, even more so.”

Heat swam up to burn her cheeks and she glanced down at her food. It was steak, along with a filet of some type of white fish, steaming red potatoes and fresh grilled asparagus. Her stomach rumbled, an altogether intrusive noise into the silence between laughter, and she giggled.

“I give up. I am apparently going to commit every
faux pas
for a meal this evening.” She might never stop blushing either. Stealing a glance upwards, she found Malcolm grinning widely. “What?”

“I like
faux pas
. It’s real. Don’t stop.”

“As tempting as a loud belch might be to punctuate that statement, I think I’ll refrain.”

This time, Malcolm did throw his head back to laugh and the tension threading up her spine relaxed. As insane as the entire conversation seemed, she enjoyed it. She enjoyed him.

She laughed more than she ate during the meal, but the conversation remained light, never quite touching the topics from the sitting room. In fact, they danced so deftly around the topics she’d nearly forgotten her awkwardness.

“Wine?” Malcolm motioned to the bottle chilling in a bucket next to the table, and she shook her head.

“No, thank you. I should excuse myself. It’s very late.” Her gaze skimmed the clock and her heart clenched in her chest. Very late.

Very, very late.

Malcolm followed her glance. “It’s fine. The windows will close automatically…”

Automatically?
For the first time since entering the suite, her gaze swept to the far wall and the wide bank of windows overlooking the Las Vegas strip. Of course they closed automatically. Malcolm was a vampire. The desert sun could hardly be good for him.

“Malcolm.” Jeannie pushed her chair back and rose, with him hurriedly following. She dropped the napkin across her cleared plate with a tight smile of apology. “Please forgive me. It’s been a lovely evening, but I have to go.”

He frowned, but nodded slowly as he circled the table and to her utter surprise his hands closed on her shoulders, tugging her forward until his lips brushed her forehead.

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

Her heart pummeled her ribs.

“I don’t…I don’t know that it would be a good idea.”

“No?” Malcolm lifted both brows and his hands glided up to cup her face. He tilted his head forward and her surroundings faded as his mouth slanted across hers.

The world expanded wildly, racing in every direction and pulling all of her objections away like a spool of thread unraveling. He massaged her lips with his, demanding access until she opened her mouth and his tongue thrust inside. He tasted so masculine. She tilted her head back trying to give him greater access and he lifted her up in his arms, stroking her against the firm, hard length of his body. His fangs grazed her tongue as she slid it past his lips and pleasure drenched her mind.

She forgot about leaving. She forgot about the sun. She forgot every objection. There was only Malcolm and the demanding caress of his mouth as he plundered hers.

And then he pulled away, leaving her breathless as his fingers trailed down her cheek. “You will see me tomorrow, Jeannie.”

“Yes.” She didn’t want to leave, but the soft swish of the shutters beginning to close around the room spurred her from the haze. “Tomorrow.”

Malcolm smiled, his gaze dark and filled with forbidden promise.

“Tomorrow.”

Gathering the shreds of her composure, Jeannie turned on her heel and walked to the door, careful not to flee. Her heart slamming against her ribs punctuated every step and when she looked behind her, she found Malcolm staring at her, a wild hunger in his eyes.

Tomorrow she wouldn’t be leaving the suite. Her pulse leapt and she pushed herself to go before she ruined everything.

Chapter Six

Malcolm forced his hands into his pockets and his body into a semblance of stillness as the door closed behind Jeannie’s ripe, lush form. He could have easily compelled her to stay. It took far more willpower to not compel her than it did to
persuade
her that it would be all right.

And that would make me no better than Frederick. Toying with another just to get my own way for a few hours entertainment.
He knew himself well enough to recognize how hollow a victory that would be, no matter how desperately thick and aching his cock was or the slow burn creeping through his blood. He inhaled a thick lungful of air, forcing his heart to slow down, his body to unclench.

He would be jacking off in the shower in a matter of minutes. Stroking himself to a pale facsimile of orgasm with the scent of her coating his nostrils and the taste of her rich on his tongue. His fangs sharpened, the physical act puncturing the haze of desire.

At five centuries, he’d long since learned to control the wild hunger for blood, the lust for the hunt and the desperate need to feel flesh parting as hot blood spilled across his tongue. He could easily go months between feedings, supplementing himself on bagged blood.

So why is it that I am acting like a youth hungering for his first real taste?

The phone’s shrill ring shattered the silence and jerked him around. Half hoping it was Jeannie calling to ask him if she could come back up, he plucked the handset from the cradle.

“Reynolds.”

“Mr. Reynolds. The Overseers will see you now. Please attend them.” The woman’s whispery, exotic accent cooled the ardor in his blood. His balls tightened with regret. Primed for sex was not how he envisioned the meeting, but rescheduling now would be an insult and could lengthen his stay at the Royale by weeks.

Fifteen minutes later, he stood in the elevator as it ascended nearly to the top floor of the resort’s upper echelons. The doors parted to a single hallway that stretched a hundred feet to a solitary door. The institutional color matched the interrogation room he’d met Frederick in, but since much of the Arcana Royale relied on magic and illusion, he didn’t allow the lack of ornamentation to fool him.

The gray-colored door swung inwards when he was less than a step away. Malcolm steadied his expressions, maintained his respiration and heart rate and focused on the task at hand. He shuttered Jeannie away in a safe place deep in the back of his mind. He still hadn’t made up his mind on whether the alluring siren was a trap by the Overseers or not.

He also hadn’t decided if he cared. Still, it would be better for negotiations if his attraction for her remained secure and hidden. The door opened into a star chamber-like setting. Five chairs were arrayed in a semi-circle against a half-moon table.

Five figures occupied the chairs, shrouded in gray cloaks. Their hidden faces betrayed no nuance of whom or what they were. The intimidation inherent to that nothingness impressed Malcolm. He walked several paces into the room and stopped. Each being represented a powerful interest in the Arcana Royale. Rumors of their identities floated through social circles around the world, but anyone who actually knew kept their code of silence.

The Overseers didn’t want to be known and they weren’t. Malcolm inclined his head low enough to politely acknowledge their place in the power structure, but not so low as to signify obeisance.

“Present your case, Mr. Reynolds.” The laconic instruction came from the gender-neutral figure on the far left. Despite their lack of color, gender or expression, the words echoed with a masculine tone.

“I represent the Reynolds family in the matter of Frederick Reynolds’s incarceration. As a show of good faith, we would request that you release him into my custody.”

“Is that the extent of your case, Mr. Reynolds?” The sibilant words came from the figure in the center of the five.

“At this time, I am still investigating the charges. For example, with regard to the matter of the missing incubus, this charge has no merit as the incubus left with the two women accompanying Frederick Reynolds. He was not involved in the demon’s exodus.”

“Yet, he accepted responsibility when we informed him of Adon’s abandonment of his duties.”

“No culpability on the part of Frederick Reynolds should be admitted for the time he was without representation.” Malcolm resisted the urge to frown. His cousin really should have kept his mouth shut until he arrived.

“The abduction of our property is hardly the greatest of charges facing Frederick Reynolds.” This from the figure on the far right, a distinctly feminine voice that dripped an icy chill down his spine with each carefully pronounced word. “I have no objection to dismissing the charges related to Adon provided that the Reynolds family exert its influence to encourage his return.”

Not an unfair request. He didn’t have to force the incubus back, but he could refuse the twins any shelter and contact their family. “Agreed.”

“The other charges stand. We shall consider his punishment.” The first figure with his masculine voice spoke as though the matter was settled.

“No.” Malcolm took one step forward. “Mitigating factors exist with regard to the other charges and I would have that entered into evidence.”

“Frederick Reynolds used compulsion to cheat in our casino, a clear violation of the treaty that allows the Arcana Royale to host even the most deadly enemies in an atmosphere of absolute neutrality.”

“I understand the gravity of the charge.” Less than a century ago, such a charge would have resulted in immediate execution by the host city’s prince. Frederick’s actions were inexcusable. But he was still Ruth and Matthias’s son, he was Malcolm’s cousin. He couldn’t
not
help him.