That was the problem, she thought as she collected a tray and moved along the counter on automatic, selecting her usual ham sandwich and juice. Her thoughts kept fluctuating. She yearned to see his smile, hear his laughter, look into his eyes. She craved his kisses, to feel his arms around her, his body sliding against hers. But she knew, deep in her heart, that losing him later would kill her. However, that didn’t stop her from driving past his house every night on her way to work, in the hopes of just seeing him or even Livy. She was acting like some sort of junky or stalker and it was starting to scare her. Every night after driving past she cursed herself and felt shame and promised she wouldn’t do it again. But that next night, she did it again.
Jeanne Louise blew her breath out on a sigh as she paid for her lunch. She then turned to carry her tray to an empty table, wondering as she went if she could convince her uncle, aunt, and father to do a mind wipe on her. It was dangerous, but if it didn’t kill her and succeeded, she’d stop hurting. She wouldn’t remember ever having met him, wouldn’t have to recall and ache for his kisses, wouldn’t know what she’d lost . . .
“You should really try the bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches if you’ve lost your taste for ham.”
Jeanne Louise glanced up with a start at that solemn comment, her eyes widening as she peered up at the man who so obsessed her thoughts. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with dark glasses covering his eyes, he looked ready to head for the beach, and obviously wasn’t here for work.
“Paul,” she said faintly as her body roared in response to his very presence. “What—?”
Her words died as he reached up and slid the sunglasses off. She stared blankly at the glowing silver green eyes that flashed at her, and stared and stared, unable to process what she was seeing.
“Your uncle Lucian paid me a visit yesterday afternoon,” he said quietly and then smiled wryly and added. “Well, your uncle Lucian, your aunt Marguerite, your father, stepmother, two brothers, their wives, and the hunter named Bricker all paid me a visit. You have an interesting family,” he added wryly. “I think I like them. They—”
His words ended on an
oomph
as Jeanne Louise suddenly launched herself from her seat and at him. His arms closed around her at once, holding her tightly as he kissed her, but she pulled back mid-kiss to ask, “Who turned you? How? Why?”
Paul smiled at her frantic questions, but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he scooped her up in his arms and turned to stride for the exit before saying, “Your uncle did the honors. He apparently ripped his wrist open, though I didn’t see it, then slapped it against my mouth. Most unpleasant,” he added with a remembered shudder as he pushed through the doors and started up the hall toward security.
Frowning, he said, “I’m glad you don’t have to taste the blood normally. Bagged is definitely better than having to drink and taste it.” Scowling at her, he said, “You should have told me that when I offered you my jarred blood. I could have found some straws or something.”
“You get used to it,” she mumbled, staring up into his beautiful green and silver eyes. He was turned. Immortal. She wasn’t going to lose him. Her mind kept singing that song to her over and over, and still she wasn’t quite grasping it.
“Anyway,” he continued, nodding to Arthur as the mortal security guard rushed to open the door to the parking garage for them. “The next thing I knew I was being strapped to my kitchen table and your entire family was there. Well, except Lucian and his wife. They took Livy to Wonderland and then to their place so she wouldn’t have to ‘hear her father scream.’ ” He grimaced as he carried her along the row of parked cars. “Your uncle’s a bit . . .” He hesitated, but then shook his head and said, “They still have Livy. He said they were keeping her for a while so that we could get reacquainted.” Worry crossed his face as he said that.
“She’ll be fine. I know he seems gruff and kind of scary, but Uncle Lucian has a good heart. Children and dogs love him,” Jeanne Louise said quietly. “That’s always a good sign.”
“Hmmm.” He paused next to his car and then peered down at her. “It nearly killed me when you left.”
“It nearly killed me to do it,” she said solemnly. “But it was a matter of self-preservation, Paul. I loved you after just days. I couldn’t imagine how strong my feelings would be after decades. And to watch you age and die and know I would carry on for centuries, even millennia alone without you?” She shook her head. “I couldn’t do it.”
“You still might have to, Jeanne Louise,” he said solemnly.
“No, you’re immortal now,” she said with a smile.
“And even immortals can die,” he quietly pointed out. “I could be beheaded in a car accident tomorrow.”
She stared at him silently, fear gripping her heart and he set her on her feet and then cupped her face in his hands. “I didn’t expect to lose Jerri like I did or as soon as I did. I did love her, Jeanne Louise, as much as one mortal can love another. And when I lost her I thought my life was pretty much over, that all there was left to do was to see Livy raised and happy. But I was wrong. There was you.”
He bent to press a kiss to her lips and then straightened to say, “I love you. I want to live forever with you, but you have to promise me that if I should die in an accident or something, that you won’t give up like I did. Like you did when you realized you’d used up your turn and couldn’t turn me. There may be a second love waiting for you, and even a third. As long as there is life there is hope. Don’t be the living dead like I was until you woke me up.”
Jeanne Louise frowned and glanced away, finding it hard to make any promise like that. Instead, she asked, “Why did Uncle Lucian turn you?”
Paul stared at her for a moment, but then sighed and let her change the subject. “Livy gave up her turn to turn me. He did the honors, but it was counted as her turn.”
“Oh no,” Jeanne Louise breathed, true horror sliding through her to know that her happiness came at the expense of the child’s.
“But once he turned me, I gave up my turn to Livy. It’s hers now. So it’s all good,” he assured her.
Jeanne Louise sighed and melted against him. “Thank God.”
“Or your uncle,” Paul said wryly.
Jeanne Louise lifted her head and grinned at him. “Admit it, you like him.”
“He has his good points,” Paul admitted reluctantly and then grimaced and added, “The guy really needs to work on his people skills though.”
Jeanne Louise chuckled softly and then leaned up to kiss him. It started as a soft brushing of lips, but as always happened soon became more heated and passionate.
Growling, Paul turned to press her back against his car, his body pinning her to it as his hands began to roam. When Jeanne Louise slid one hand down to cup him through his jeans though, he broke their kiss and glanced to the car to open the door.
Jeanne Louise sighed with disappointment, but slid inside when he opened the door and urged her in. It wasn’t until she was sitting and realized he was following her in that she noticed that he’d ushered her into the backseat.
“What are we doing?” she asked with confusion, sliding sideways to make room for him to enter.
“What do you think?” he asked on a growl, slamming the door closed and pulling her back into his arms.
His mouth was on hers at once, and Jeanne Louise didn’t hesitate to kiss back, but when his mouth began to travel to her ear, she mumbled, “There are cameras in the garage.”
“The backseat windows are black. They can’t see anything.”
She glanced to the windows to see that the side windows were indeed black, but laughed on a groan as his hands found her breasts, and gasped, “But they’ll know what we’re doing.”
Paul broke off to pull back and look at her solemnly. “Honey, anyone who knows we are new life mates knows exactly what we’ll be doing for the next year. But if it bothers you, we can go back to my place. Or yours if it’s closer.”
Jeanne Louise considered the question, but then shook her head and climbed to straddle his lap. “Screw ’em. Let them know. I don’t care. They’ve all been running around pitying me the last couple weeks. Now they can envy me,” she added with a grin and kissed him.
For an early Christmas present,
read on for a sneak peek at
Lynsay Sands’
delectable romance
in THE BITE BEFORE CHRISTMAS
Available now in hardcover
from William Morrow,
an Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers
K
atricia whistled happily as she grabbed dried and canned food and packed it in the two empty boxes she’d found in a corner of the pantry. She wasn’t really paying attention to what she was choosing, but then she had no idea what Teddy Brunswick would like—or what she herself would like, for that matter. It had been centuries since she’d bothered with mortal food.
“Katricia Argeneau Brunswick.” It had a nice ring to it, she decided with a smile.
“Katricia and Teddy Argeneau Brunswick.” Even better, she thought and sighed dreamily as she packed another can in the box.
Damn. She’d met her life mate. Katricia savored the thought. There was nothing in the world more important to an immortal than a life mate. It was what every one of them wanted and waited for, sometimes for centuries, sometimes even longer. Some never found one at all. But if they did, it was the most important moment in their life, finding that one person in the world, mortal or immortal, whom they couldn’t read or control and with whom they could share their long life. It wasn’t what Katricia had expected when she’d driven up here yesterday from Toronto. Though she probably should have, she acknowledged. Marguerite’s matchmaking skills were becoming renowned. At least they were in the family. It was said she seemed to have the same ability that Katricia’s grandmother and the family matriarch, Alexandria Argeneau, had possessed. That woman had found life mates for a good number of her children and the others of their kind before her death more than two thousand years ago. They said it had been like a sixth sense with her. Every couple she’d put together had been life mates. Now Marguerite was doing the same.
Still, this was the last thing Katricia had expected when Marguerite had invited her to join the family for Christmas. Especially since she’d said thank you, but no. It had been an automatic response. If she’d thought first, Katricia probably would have said yes, in the hopes that Marguerite had a life mate for her. However, she hadn’t thought. Her answer had been automatic and firm. She avoided family gatherings. Actually, she avoided gatherings altogether. It was just too wearying to have to guard your thoughts all the time, so she’d taken to spending more and more time alone, especially the holidays, when all the older relatives got together. It was impossible to guard your thoughts from some of them, and Katricia didn’t want one of her uncles reading hers.
The only family function she’d attended in the last decade was the multiple wedding in New York last February. Not showing up would have raised questions, since she lived and worked in New York, but as she’d expected, it had been hell. Concentrating on trying to guard her thoughts while trying to hold conversations with people had been like juggling knives while doing backflips. Impossible. She was sure more than one relative had caught a glimpse of her thoughts. She’d seen a flash of concern in the eyes of a couple of her uncles and even in Marguerite herself as she’d talked with her. Katricia was positive they all had caught how dark and depressing her thoughts were growing.
The thought made her smile. Both the darkness and depression had blown away like smoke in a stiff breeze the minute she’d reached the end of the driveway, spotted Teddy Brunswick, automatically tried to read his thoughts to see who he was and what he was doing there on the road, and found she couldn’t. That had been a shocker. And suddenly her last-minute problems with her holiday plans had taken on a different light.
Katricia had been annoyed as hell when her flight from New York to Colorado for some holiday skiing had been diverted to Toronto. The pilot hadn’t known what the problem was and Katricia had disembarked from the Argeneau plane ready to rip someone a new one, only to find her uncle, Lucian Argeneau, waiting on the tarmac.
“Bad weather,” he’d announced by way of explanation as he’d bundled her into an SUV.
Katricia had been beside herself with frustration, her concentration divided between reciting nursery rhymes, to keep her uncle from reading her thoughts, and the intrusive worry that she’d be stuck with the family for the holidays and reciting those nursery rhymes for days. So, when he’d taken her to Marguerite’s and that dear woman had mentioned that Decker had a cottage up north if she didn’t wish to spend Christmas with the family, Katricia had jumped at the suggestion like a drowning woman leaping for a life raft. The next thing she’d known she and her luggage had been bundled in an SUV with the directions already on the GPS and she’d been on her way.
Now, here she was, up in the wilds of Central Ontario, snowed in with Teddy Brunswick, whom she couldn’t read. Not being able to read a mortal was the first sign of a life mate. As an immortal, she could read mortals as easily as cracking open a book. Not being able to read Teddy had come as a hell of a shock. But a good one. A life mate. Damn, the idea made her sigh happily.
Of course, not being able to read him was only one of the signs, she tried to caution herself. After all, there was the occasional mortal that couldn’t be read by anyone. They were usually crazies or people suffering from some affliction or other, like a brain tumor. Then no one could read them. However, Teddy Brunswick didn’t seem mentally ill. He could still have a tumor or something, though, she acknowledged unhappily.
She would know soon enough, however. If Teddy really was her life mate, other symptoms would be showing up soon. The reawakening of her appetite for food was one of them, and she glanced curiously at the next box she lifted out and read the label.
“Bisquick.”