Vampires' Consort: Magical Menages, Book 2 (2 page)

Valarian’s hand covered the scar on Jacob’s neck, bringing him back from his reverie. He froze beneath that light, cool touch.

“I believe you’re truly smitten.” Valarian’s low voice was rich with amusement. That seductive voice stiffened his cock like always, but his master’s patronizing inflection made Jacob want to punch him. Valarian Kaspan—the center of his life and the bane of his existence.

He shook off the other man’s hand. “She’s attractive enough. I’ll perform the service you require. If she agrees to it.”

As he turned and strode stiffly away, Jacob thought that was a very big “if”.

Chapter Two

Jacob Baum was at Miami Metro to meet Akila and usher her onto a private jet that would fly her to Valarian Kaspan’s island retreat. An entire island that belonged to one man. A Fantasy Island in the Caribbean that was just one of many properties he owned, according to what she’d read about him. Of course, she’d scoured the Internet for every bit of information she could find, but in all the articles she hadn’t seen one picture of the man or any mention of his date of birth. She supposed he must be middle-aged if not older, because his name had been prominent in the press for years.

For a man who was a recluse and never allowed his photograph to be taken, Kaspan was a surprisingly public figure. He had a hand in dozens of corporations and an almost equal number of charities. He was Howard Hughes and Santa Claus rolled into one. Would she meet a squirrelly little man hiding in his room, fighting a running war against germs, or a magnanimous saint who threw hundred dollar bills around like piñata candy?

Either way Akila was intrigued, and not too afraid. She’d informed several good friends about this trip so they would keep tabs on her, but hadn’t told her parents, who would be completely freaked out. Not until she found out what the mysterious proposition entailed would she decide whether to ever share the story with her parents. Did they really need to know about their daughter’s sexual flings—if that was what this turned out to be?

Akila glanced at her silent companion, sitting beside her as if there were only two seats available in this empty eight-passenger Lear. Jacob looked even sexier today than he had when she’d first met him. He was wearing a plain white Oxford button down over another T-shirt. Apparently, the man liked layers and long sleeves even in this humid Florida weather.

“How long have you worked for Mr. Kaspan?” She watched a flicker of emotion chase across his face like a cloud on a windy day.

“Too long,” he said dryly.

“You don’t like him?”

The corner of his mouth drew up and his eyelids slightly lowered. “That’s beside the point.”

Oh, so their relationship went beyond employer and employee. She could sense sex in those bedroom eyes. Gay, then? But no, she’d definitely caught an appreciative look in his eyes when he’d examined her and she was rarely wrong about male interest in her. He must bat for both teams.

“You’re tired of him, but you can’t leave him,” she guessed.

A quick widening of his eyes told her she’d nailed the crux of their relationship with one blow.

“Mr. Kaspan is a fair employer. I’m compensated well for what I do.” He went stiff and formal trying to backpedal from that admission of “too long”, but it was too late. Akila had glimpsed an emotion, a disgruntled impatience he preferred to keep hidden from his boss and possible lover. This knowledge gave her a little bit of power and she liked that.

Settling back into the comfortable seat, she took a sip from the bottled water Jacob had given her. “It’s all right. Your secret’s safe with me. I know what it’s like to get that ‘moving on’ feeling but not be ready to go yet. It happens in both jobs and relationships.”

“You’re very perceptive.”

“Thank you.”

“Sometimes it’s better to keep your perceptions to yourself.” He turned the full force of his gaze on her and Akila suddenly felt like a child who’d been prodding a lion with a stick.

“You really have no idea who or what you’re dealing with,” he added. “A wise man keeps his mouth shut and his ears open.”

God, she just couldn’t help herself. She had to poke again. “But a wise
woman
ferrets out the truth by asking the right question.”

She could hear herself being obnoxious, but couldn’t turn it off. When she was nervous she grew even more smart-assed than usual. And despite her attempts to appear at ease, she was pretty damn nervous right now. Her mother used to say her outspokenness would get her into trouble some day. This might just be that day.

“Sorry. You’re right, I don’t know anything about you or your…employer.” Akila tried to patch things up and even then she couldn’t help the little pause that gave the word “employer” a whole other meaning. “But you could tell me something about him. I’d like to know a little about what I’m walking into.”

Jacob paused a long moment. “There’s really nothing I’m at liberty to say. Mr. Kaspan will explain everything.”

She could tell it was his final word on the matter so she stopped poking and looked out the window at the azure sky above and the sapphire water below. A few seconds later a blob of green appeared in the water. She’d barely had time to decide it was an island and not some coral reef beneath the water when the plane approached a bone-white landing strip. Akila braced herself as if they were coming in for a crash landing.
Here we go. What in the hell have I gotten myself into?

The plane touched down, light as a feather, and rolled to a stop.

Jacob rose and ushered her from her seat. “This way, Miss Massri.”

They descended the steps of the plane and Akila stood for a moment, absorbing the tropical sun’s heat and the glorious view that lay before her.

Fantasy Island, indeed. The place was pure paradise. From the airstrip she could see bleached sand and gently breaking surf on one side, emerald green foliage laced with showy tropical blooms on the other.

Jacob carried her bags to a golf cart. They climbed inside and zipped along a path through the trees. The track climbed upward in the cool shade and then broke through into a sunny glade. Gracing the crest of the hill was a huge house with white walls that shone in the sun. A red, clay-tiled roof made a pretty contrast to the harsh white.

Akila thought of every action movie she’d ever seen featuring a drug lord. They always had mansions like this, paid for in blood. For all she knew, Kaspan dabbled in the drug trade too, but he had enough legitimate businesses it hardly seemed necessary. Besides, criminals didn’t usually fund schools, hospitals, orphanages and programs to build roads in third world countries—all philanthropies Kaspan was involved in.

“Home, sweet home, eh?” She glanced at Jacob’s chiseled profile and wondered what he was all about. She couldn’t imagine such a somber man ever having been a playful child. Where had he come from and how had he ended up as the lackey of one of the most powerful men in the world?

She was tired of wondering about things. Patience wasn’t her strong suit and she’d been pondering a million questions ever since that day Baum had handed her the invitation. Kaspan had allowed her little time to consider the offer. The airline tickets had been for the following week, which was just as well or she might have talked herself out of this crazy adventure.

Now here she was, getting out of the golf cart and facing a glossy red door behind a decorative wrought-iron grille. Tendrils of vines grew in a trellis arching over the walkway and plants erupted in lush profusion from beds on either side. The path to the front door meandered invitingly down the tunnel of green. The house was not at all the Gothic mausoleum she’d half expected an eccentric recluse to live in. Akila’s fears were somewhat alleviated by the welcoming atmosphere.

“What a lovely place to live.”

Jacob looked around as though seeing it with fresh eyes. “It is.”

He held the door for her and she walked from the humid heat into the refreshing coolness of the foyer. A fan swept lazily high overhead in the vaulted ceiling and sunlight from a window illuminated the open space. A plush carpet in deep reds and earth tones covered most of the tiled floor. Potted trees and plants brought the outdoors inside.

Akila barely had time to glance at the artwork on the walls or the exotic artifacts scattered here and there before Jacob guided her down a corridor.

“I will take you to your room first so you may refresh yourself before meeting Mr. Kaspan.”

She decided his courtly, almost old-fashioned manner of speech may have been from learning English as a second language. “Are you from Germany? I keep catching a trace of an accent.”

“Yes,” he said. “But I’ve lived many places in the world since then.”

“Mm. I did the European backpacking thing one summer when I was in college, but money’s always been too tight for me to travel much.”

This tropical retreat was a dream come true, especially with icy gray slush still piled alongside the streets back home. Whatever Kaspan wanted, she would enjoy her time here in this paradise for as long as it lasted.

Jacob opened a door and Akila stepped into a room that reminded her of the iridescent inside of an oyster shell. The floor underfoot was covered with dove gray carpet, but the walls were swathed in fabric, the colors of which seemed to shimmer and change as she looked at them. Cool blue, lilac, rose and flashes of green mingled with gray and white. The same colors were picked out in abstract designs on the comforter. Embedded in one of the walls was a saltwater tank with fish darting among colorful corals. Entering the room was like stepping into an undersea world.

“This is beautiful,” she murmured, turning in a slow circle to take it all in while Jacob set her suitcase on the bed.

“I’m glad you like it.” Something about the pleased way he accepted her compliment made her look at him.

“Did you design this?”

He shrugged. “Master Kaspan gives me free rein on decorating decisions. It’s my hobby, I suppose you could say.”

Akila studied him. She’d just learned two extremely interesting things. Jacob possessed an artistic streak at odds with his rigid manner and he had slipped and referred to Kaspan not as his boss, but as “master”.

“The bathroom is there.” He indicated a door. “I’ll give you an hour to rest and then take you to see Mr. Kaspan.”

She’d half hoped the man would be waiting at the door so she could get this meeting over with. She should’ve guessed he’d summon her to his throne room.

Jacob turned to leave, then paused and looked back at her. The blue in the room enhanced the vibrant hue of his eyes and Akila saw uncertainty there for the first time.

“I would like to say I’m glad you accepted Mr. Kaspan’s invitation to come here. Even if you don’t choose to go through with his proposal, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Abruptly he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it; then he was out the door before she could say a word.

Akila stared at her hand, feeling the warm, moist pressure of his lips. Her heart pounded as if he’d dipped her into a backbend and kissed the hell out of her. What did he mean by “go through with his proposal”? Now she was more curious than ever about this mystery. God, she couldn’t wait another hour to find out.

But, by the time she’d hung a few clothes in the wardrobe, washed her face, fluffed her short hair, applied a little eyeliner, watched the mesmerizing fish and examined the decorative artifacts throughout the room, the hour was over and Jacob was knocking on her door.

“What’s he like?” she couldn’t help asking, even though she’d know for herself in another minute.

Jacob paused for only a second before answering. “Charismatic. Valarian Kaspan leaves his mark.” A small smile curved his lips as though at some inside joke.

“I feel like I’m about to meet Oz,” Akila said as they approached an open archway. Through it she could see a wall of glass and a stunning view of the ocean.

For once, Jacob understood her reference. “Except Mr. Kaspan is no fraud. He truly is great and powerful.” His tone was almost reverent, a far cry from the frustration she’d sensed earlier. Apparently he was very conflicted about his feelings for his “master”.

Then there was no more time for talking as Jacob ushered her into the large, airy room and she beheld her host. Her first impression was that, despite the generous size of the living room, the dark-haired man seemed to fill it. He sucked up all the oxygen and the light. His eyes, trained on her, were midnight black like his hair and his skin was olive-tone. He was not overly tall, yet seemed enormous and quite overpowering as he strode—no, glided—across the floor toward her.

“Ms. Massri, I’m so pleased you accepted my invitation.”

Her hand was small and deliciously warm. Valarian felt the blood pumping through it and swallowed. She smelled delectable too. Not the light perfume she wore but the real scent of woman beneath the sweetness. His cock stirred in response.

Akila didn’t merely allow her hand to be taken, but gripped and shook his hand firmly before letting go. Decisive. Sure of herself. He liked her no-nonsense grip and frank stare.

Although he’d seen her photograph, the woman was even lovelier in person, every bit as attractive as Jacob had suggested without saying anything. His servant’s silence was often more eloquent than other men’s words. After so many years together, Valarian knew how to read between the pauses. Jacob was impressed with Akila. More than impressed—“taken with her”, to use an old-fashioned expression.

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” he added.

“You made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” She smiled, and her teeth flashed against her tan skin.

Valarian laughed. He loved the movies, a wonderful invention and an amusing way to while away long hours. The
Godfather
reference wasn’t lost on him as it was on Jacob, who showed his confusion with a brief frown. Jacob had never really understood the need to keep up with the times in small ways as well as large.

“There’s no mob threat here, I promise you. After I explain everything, you’re completely free to enjoy the rest of your stay here, make use of the amenities and then fly home—no strings attached. If that’s what you choose to do.”