Lizzy Ford (25 page)

“I really do have to quit,” she whispered.

“Whatever the issue is, we’re the people who can help.”

“No, you can’t,” she replied, mind on her cousins.

“Jonny isn’t someone to fuck with, sweetheart,” he said gently. “He’s the leader of the vamps for a reason.”

It explained the storm-cloud energy and how he’d broken her forearm with no effort. That someone who fought like Jule thought Jonny dangerous wasn’t good. Xander was wearing the necklace, or she’d retreat to the apartment and ransack it on her way out.

“Anything you want to tell me?” Jule asked. “We can pull you into the organization now, if you’re in danger. Xander said no, but – “

“What do you mean he said no?” she asked. “He doesn’t want me to talk to you?”

“No,” Jule’s eyes were twinkling. “He intends to take care of you himself.”

“Xander doesn’t take care of women.”

“He does one that interests him.”

She frowned.

“That’s worse, isn’t it?” he said, studying her. “A word to the wise, don’t betray someone like Xander.”

“Why?” Coldness streaked through her.

“Let’s just say betrayal is his pressure point,” Jule said. “You’re safer trusting him than anyone else.”

“I can’t.”

“There’s nothing Jonny can do to you that Xander can’t help.”

“It’s not my life that concerns me,” she said.

“That’s rough,” Jule said softly. “You know you need help, don’t you?”

“I can handle this. It’s easy. I just have to do what he wants, and it’s over.” Her words didn’t sound convincing even to her own ears.

“Jonny won’t let you go that easy, especially if he suspects Xander is interested in you. They have history, and not a good one.”

“He won’t know, because Xander isn’t!”

“That pic all over the web says differently.”

She groaned.

“That pic is incredible. It says a lot about both of you. Jonny won’t miss that.”

“It says a lot about me, not him.”

Jule pulled out his phone. A couple minutes later, he handed it to her.

“You have it saved,” she said, glaring at him.

“Look closely.”

She took it, hating the vulnerable expression on her face. Jule had zoomed it in on Xander, the look of predatory cunning – and her blood on his incisors – irritating her as much as it turned her on. She studied the picture more closely. The skin around Xander’s eye was softened in something other than amusement, the light in his eyes a combination of hunger – and warmth. He’d been messing with her, but he’d also been genuinely interested.

“That’s not good,” she whispered.

“Not for you, it isn’t,” Jule agreed and reclaimed the phone. “I’m not certain he realizes it yet or is willing to admit to it. But you caught his attention in a way that I don’t envy. Tough choice to make.”

She needed the necklace. Today. The sooner she got out of this situation, the better. She didn’t know how much time she had before Xander’s interest became too hard to shake. The idea he’d slept alone last night made her wonder.

“You know what his necklace symbolizes?”

She sucked in a sharp breath, wondering if Jule really was able to read her mind after telling her he couldn’t.

“The oldest immortals have them. Long ago, they were handed down from fathers to the eldest son of a House. Xander’s is older than he is. Mine is just as old.”

She looked at his bare chest. “I don’t see one.”

“My wife has it. Before it’s passed to the eldest son, it goes to the wife an immortal chooses.”

“Like marking his territory.”

“Like offering up the most treasured possession that’s survived time with him,” he corrected with a smile. “You can’t take much with you over the course of tens of thousands of years. It’s a piece of family history as well as a legacy.”

“That’s actually really nice,” she said.

“It becomes your only possession. We pass it on like an engagement ring.”

Was he
trying
to make her guiltier? A necklace – no matter how important to Xander – didn’t rate the lives of her cousins. She wasn’t going to feel bad about a piece of jewelry. She’d feel bad about … Xander. Maybe.

She felt ill after all Jule told her. It seemed too possible not to be real, especially with what she already knew about Xander.

“I’m going to get something to drink,” she said, standing.

“You still quitting?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“You’ll have another choice. If you walk away from Xander, we take you in. Fair warning.” His tone was understanding, up until that point.

She said nothing, too uneasy to understand what she thought. She returned to the apartment. Charlie was still sleeping on the couch.

Jessi straightened up the kitchen then went to Xander’s bedroom. She made his bed and stepped back, a thrill working through her at the thought of spending the night with him. If he didn’t take off his necklace before the end of the day, she might just have to …

The thought made her panicky and eager. She backed out of the sensual room and returned to the living area. Unable to help her curiosity, she stepped onto the porch and leaned against the railing, watching the three men swap in and out to spar. The gaggle of women grew, and she glanced at her phone, surprised at the stamina the three had to keep going for hours. She found herself smiling as her eyes followed Xander.

Part of her hoped he was too tired to do anything, that he took a nap instead and she was able to free the necklace.

Then again, when would she ever get a chance to spend a night with someone who looked like him? A celebrity, in addition.

Would it be enough to stymie his apparent interest and drive him away? He’d realize she was like every other woman and leave her alone. After all, he’d shown no real interest in her, aside from sleeping with her. He’d outright asked her to. What if she did? Would that satisfy his interest in her?

He didn’t do reruns, she reminded herself. Chances were high that he’d sleep with her and discard her. Maybe that’s what bothered her most. She didn’t do one-night stands. He specialized in them. What if he wouldn’t exchange his precious necklace for a one-night stand? Worse, what if he discarded her before she was able to get the gem?

No. There had to be a way to grab it without sleeping with him. Or at least, she needed a plan, if she was going to sleep with him, grab the necklace and run.

Her phone buzzed. She pulled it free of her pocket, expecting to see a text from Ashley.

Friday noon. Meet me with the necklace, or sweet Ashley doesn’t make it back from school.

Fear flew through her. Jessi texted Ashley and Brandon to contact her right away then retreated into the apartment and paced.

She really didn’t have a choice. No matter what it took, she had to get the necklace.

The men didn’t spar long after she left the porch. Jessi retreated to the kitchen when they entered, glancing at her phone every few minutes. Xander went straight to his room. She watched Jule nudge Charlie. It took a few hard shakes for the man to awaken. Sweating and hot, Jule and Gerry didn’t bother to get dressed.

“Coffee tomorrow?” Gerry asked her, entering the kitchen.

She gave him a harried look.

“That’s a no,” Jule said with a laugh. “She might need time to digest things.”

“Ah, you told her.” Gerry’s wide smile turned warm. “If you need anything, you know how to contact me.” Just like that, any pretension of him being interested in her was gone.

“Right.”

“Offer’s always open,” he said and held up his hands. “If Xander gets rough, let me know.”

“Him I can handle,” she replied.

“I almost believe you,” Jule said. “Seriously. Any issues, call Gerry, okay?”

She nodded. They were nice enough guys, considering they were just as insane as Xander. They left her in the kitchen. She stared at the wall across from her, angry and frustrated.

Chapter Eleven

Xander sensed her mood the moment he set foot out of his wing of the condo. Barefooted and clean, he was relaxed for the first time in a week. Jessi was rubbing her face, distraught.

He didn’t ask. She wasn’t going to talk. Instead, he went to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee.

“Late for coffee, isn’t it?” she asked then sighed. “Sorry. You’re not a teenager.”

“I like staying up all night,” he said with a wink.

She shook her head at him.

“Dinner party in two hours.”

Jessi’s eyes went to the clock on the microwave. It was four thirty, and she was slated to leave at five. He judged she was ready to tell him he was on his own.

“You get paid overtime,” he said.

“Alright.”

“Not sure why you want to go home anyway. Broken arms, thugs. You’re lucky you know a vampire who trades blood for keeping you alive.”

“On second thought, you couldn’t pay me enough to hang out with you.” She breezed past him.

Xander caught her with one arm, enjoying the game of cat-and-mouse she was unwittingly playing. It was better than hunting in a club.

“Boundary!” she objected, squirming. He liked the feel of her soft skin and shapely body in his arms.

He grunted. “Only if you agree to stay for the dinner party.”

Jessi groaned, her head resting against his chest in what he took as reluctant agreement. He released her and swatted her ass, amused at the fiery look she gave him. She left the kitchen to put the counter between them.

“So where are we going?” she asked.

“Nowhere. They’re coming here.”

“Are you cooking?” She cleared her throat, trying hard not to laugh. Xander understood; it was the same reaction Ingrid gave him whenever he claimed he could cook.

“It’s catered.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Jessi studied him for a brief moment. Suddenly, she smiled and grabbed her cell phone.

“Okay, I’ll hang out,” she said.

Her abrupt contentedness was a warning he didn’t understand how to interpret. She went to get the door, and he heard her talking to someone.

“Where do you want them to set up?” she called up the stairs.

“Formal dining room.”

Xander reached for his phone, satisfied to see a text from Jule.

Took care of goons. Gerry’s guys at her place.

At least no one would break her arm this night. Xander felt something he didn’t like: anger. It was directed as much at Jessi as at the Black God for sending someone innocent to do his dirty work. She was a fool, too, for thinking she could handle the situation on her own.

She didn’t return to the second floor. People began arriving an hour after the caterers. Xander remained upstairs, letting her handle the set-up in relative peace. The scent of human food made his nose wrinkle. He was able to tolerate it for the hour a day during the season when they shot his show. Otherwise, he avoided everything but raw meat. If he had his way, cooking meat would have been a crime.

Xander opened the door to the balcony. The sun had set, and dusk settled over the ocean. He placed his hands on the railing and gazed into the distance, pensive. The mess with Jessi was bothering him, just like the stealthy Others tracking him. If anyone was going to be passive-aggressive, it was him. For once, the tables had turned.

He heard a familiar voice from below and frowned.

Toni wasn’t on the list of invitees. Neither was the woman who was from last Friday, or the Tuesday before.

“You ready?” Jessi’s cheerful voice preceded her entrance into the three foot sphere where he was able to sense her.

“C’mere, Jessi,” he growled, suspecting he knew how the one-night stands got invited to dinner.

She stepped out of the sphere.

“I don’t want to keep you from your guests,” she said in an overly sweet voice.

“I am hungry.”

“You’re in luck. I had your dinner delivered.”

He rested his elbows on the railing and leaned over to see the small crowd spilling out of the doors onto the beach.

“Which one?” he asked casually.

“Which one what?”

“For dinner. Blonde? Brunette? Is that last Thursday I see?”

“I can’t believe you don’t know their names,” she said in clear disapproval.

“Pick one.”

There was a moment of hesitation before she approached. She rested her elbows on the railing next to him, gray eyes on the women. From the corner of his eye, he saw her frown.

“Does hair color mean they taste different?” she asked.

“There are slight flavor variances from person-to-person,” he explained. “Right now, I feel like a brunette with gray eyes.”

She leaned over the railing. “I don’t see a …”

Her eyes flew up to his. Xander smiled slowly.

“No!” she ordered.

Straightening, he blocked her attempt to flee from the porch and backed her into the corner.

“Xander, boundary!” she hissed at him, a cross between panic and desire on her face. With her feminine frame trapped between him and the railing, she was glaring up at him.

“Who invited Toni?” he returned. He tucked an errant curl behind her ear, enjoying the brush of her soft skin. Her breathing was already quick, and he could almost see her trying to think of some way out of the mess.

“Slight oversight,” she managed at last. “Won’t happen again.”

“Not good enough.”

Jessi planted her hands on his chest and tried to push him. He didn’t move and she sighed. Her hands remained in place while his moved to her hips.

“You get a choice,” he said calmly. “Kiss or dinner?”

“Can I promise to be good?” she asked, leaning into him and fluttering her eyelashes.

“No.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Decide.”

She licked her lips, eyes on his mouth.

“Kiss?” he asked.

Jessi nodded uncertainly. Xander didn’t give her a chance to reconsider. He lifted her face to his and kissed her. Her warm lips parted when he prodded. She tasted sweet, as if she’d snagged a bite of dessert from the caterers before coming up to gloat. He kept the pace slow, despite his hunger, and deepened the kiss. She wavered on her feet and leaned into him, the tension melting from her as it did when he drew her blood earlier.