Chapter 3
Lucien opened the four paneled door with a snarl. “After you, dear,” he said, dumping me into our new home.
“Bite me, bloodsucker.”
A wave of cold air slapped me upside the head. The foyer was the size of my entire apartment back home. And I could barely believe it, but there was actual furniture inside the door—a couch and a chair, a statue of a woman with half her clothes falling off, and a large potted palm.
He slammed the door behind us. “What the hell was that?”
As if he didn’t know. I scrambled to my feet. “I thought I was being vapid,” I said sweetly.
“Try again.”
“Pretty?”
His eyes raked over me from head to bare toes. “You are something.”
“The vulture provoked me.” He’d seen it.
Lucien towered over me, glowering. His dress shirt was disheveled, a vein pulsed at his neck, and a lock of blond hair had fallen straight over his left eye. “It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. You can’t let her get you riled up.”
“Oh, believe me, you haven’t even seen riled.” I stood up to him. Eye to chest. “When I can approach her on my terms,” on an even playing field, “her ass is mine. I’ll learn the truth.” He’d seen me in an interrogation room. “Trust me.”
“No.”
“I don’t see that you have a choice.”
“Touché,” he said dryly.
“Stop it. I don’t speak French.”
I kicked off my shoes. This was going to be a long three days. Still, I had to keep my wits about me. I didn’t want to let my pack down.
Next came the knives. I stacked them on the hall table. I didn’t choose to be different. I stripped off my panty hose and tossed them over the potted palm.
The whole situation felt so suffocatingly wrong.
I shucked off my yellow baby doll dress and hooked my thumbs under the top of my bra and girdle combination. The cool air hit my overheated skin as I peeled the garment away. I whimpered in relief as it dropped to my feet. Heaven.
I used my toe to flick it away.
In a few seconds I’d be blissfully free. I stopped when I caught sight of my partner.
“What?” I demanded. He had a funny look on his face. Like he’d swallowed a bug. “Lay it on me. What else did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” he choked.
So much for honesty. How long had that lasted—five minutes?
He cleared his throat, his gaze positively feral.
Holy heck. Was he going to sink his fangs into me?
My pulse quickened and I took a careful step toward the door. “There’d better be some law against biting your partner.”
“I will not bite you,” he said, his voice rough.
“Then why are you looking at me like I’m the main course?”
“A thousand pardons,” he said, breathy. He’d even taken on a slight Spanish accent. “Your decision to disrobe was most unexpected.”
What did the guy want? I’d kept my red thong. God, I couldn’t wait to get back to the pack where I could run around naked in peace.
I planted my hands on my hips. “Do you really want me to put that crap back on again?”
The front door burst open and I lunged for my knives. I had them at the intruder’s neck before he’d taken two steps inside.
“Whoa! Whoa!” He gurgled. “It’s me. Vinny.”
“How do I know?” I demanded.
This guy looked like a waiter or something. Then I smelled him. “Hey, it is Vinny.”
“And yet you’re still holding a knife to his throat,” Lucien pointed out.
Vinny’s eyes flicked down to my breasts, which were smashed up against his chest. “You know, I don’t mind so much.”
“Pervert.” I let him go. What was it with non-weres and nudity?
Lucien flung off his tie and unbuttoned his crisp white dress shirt, his fingers impatient. Just when I thought he’d seen the light, he shoved his shirt at me. “Put this on.”
As far as chests went, he had a nice one. Smooth and firm. Ripped without looking like he tried.
I took the shirt. “So you can relax, but I can’t.”
“I’m not relaxed.”
“Oh fine.” I slipped the cotton monstrosity over my shoulders.
Vinny shook his head. “I gotta tell you, ‘Mitzy’ sure stirred things up out there.”
The back of my neck prickled. “How do you know?”
“Waiters hear all. They’re wondering if Mr. Duke here has a Las Vegas hooker fetish.”
Lucien groaned.
“Come on, gorgeous. Blue eye shadow?”
“I like blue,” I protested.
Lucien sighed. “Vinny, maybe you can give her some pointers?”
“Are you kidding? I’d make it worse. I even liked her shoes.”
“What was wrong with my shoes?”
“Damn it.” Lucien pulled out his phone. “We need some more backup.”
Another creature in the mix? “I don’t like it,” I said to Vinny.
He threw the bolt on the door. “You didn’t like what happened out there, either.”
I crossed my arms over my chest as Lucien left a message for someone named Tia.
Wait. “Not the Tia?” Otherwise known as a Predator?
“She’s trustworthy,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
“Oh yeah?” I bristled. “When were you even going to tell me you knew her?”
“Right now.”
Well, la-dee-dah. “Anything else you’d like to share?” I demanded.
“This is how I work,” he said, closing the distance between us. “I’m an investigator. I have a network. I have contacts. I focus on the facts, the details, the minutiae others miss.”
“I don’t care if you’re the Sherlock Holmes of the undead. I want you to level with me. How do you know Tia?”
He backed off. “I’ve known her husband for nearly a century.”
“What? Were you drinking buddies?”
He ignored me. “His pharmacy was on my beat. Many years ago.”
“Oh goody.” I broke away to inspect the first floor, giving in to the urge to roam.
Naturally Lucien followed. The man needed a lesson on werewolves.
Of course, I could also use a guide to all things posh and annoying. “What aren’t you telling me about Tia the Predator?” I didn’t need my powers to know he was holding back. He’d held himself wrong. Everyone did it when they lied. One shoulder down, spine bent slightly crooked. I’d learned to recognize the signs.
“She lives on this block. On Mysteria Lane.”
“I figured that.”
“Tia is”—he paused, searching for the words—“she’s a survivor. And she’s trustworthy,” he insisted. I could tell he believed it.
“Okay.” My day couldn’t get any worse. Might as well partner with a predatory werewife. I’d mojo her with my truth powers and see for myself whether I should trust her—or truss her up in the basement.
“That’s it?” he asked.
“So it seems.” What you see is what you get.
I don’t know why he was so surprised.
Lucien trailed behind me as I began to inspect our headquarters. It was a security nightmare—windows everywhere. There was a door leading out to a sunroom, a door to the garage, a door out the back of the kitchen. We’d have to invest in some good locks. I didn’t look forward to sleeping here without them.
“So have you spent a lot of time on Mysteria Lane?” I asked.
“Hardly,” he said behind me. “I try to avoid eternal life-digging weres.”
“It would cramp the bloodsucking playboy routine a bit, wouldn’t it?” I asked, moving on to the sunken living room.
He shrugged, not bothering to deny it.
Why would a vampire even get married?
Mmm ... I wriggled my toes. The thick plush carpeting felt amazing.
He stopped at the edge of the sunken living room. Everything was done up in shades of white—the couch, the woven rugs, even the mantel decorations.
“So what do we tell the vulture the next time?” I asked, inspecting a white pointy piece of marble. “Why did you marry me?” It was an element of our story we hadn’t worked out.
“It was love at first sight,” he said tartly. “I couldn’t help myself.”
I laughed out loud. “No one’s going to buy that.” I wasn’t sure which was funnier—this broody vamp falling in love or me being the object of anybody’s affections.
I tried a light switch and the fireplace roared to life. Sweet.
“No offense,” I said, “but you don’t impress me as the lovey-dovey type.” In fact, he had the brooding down pat.
“I can be affectionate,” he said, in that pounce-y way of his.
Oh no. “When was the last time you ate?” I fought the urge to run, feeling his shirt swirl along my thighs.
“That’s a little personal,” he said, his eyes roaming my body.
No, it wasn’t. But what he wanted to do to me sure was. “I don’t care how sexy you are. I’m not dinner.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You implied.”
He gave me a heated look. “I can’t help what I am.”
“What? A ravenous vampire?”
“No. Male.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “Let’s get one thing straight, buddy. We are a pretend married couple. Fake!”
He arched a brow. “Yes, but we might as well enjoy our roles.”
He had to be kidding. “What is that? Part of your method of deduction?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Well, quit it. I’m off-limits.”
“Pity,” he said, as if he meant it.
For a moment, I felt like more than a meal. It was as if he noticed me. He wanted me.
But it was impossible. I’d always be on the outside. I’d learned that back with my pack.
“You said all weres were eternal life-diggers.”
“I didn’t ask you to marry me.”
A flicker of warmth caught my stomach. “Then what exactly are you asking?”
A long beat passed between us.
“Forget it.” I rushed to say something—anything—before he did. “I don’t want to know.”
He didn’t want me anyway. He couldn’t.
I retreated through the kitchen, my bare feet slapping against the chilly ceramic floor. “Where’s the luggage? I’m going to bed.”
I could hear his easy strides behind me. “Clothing and personal items were delivered to our bedroom this afternoon.”
Our bedroom? I halted at the foot of the stairs. “Listen, fang breath, I sleep alone.”
“Shocking.” He trailed me up the stairs.
“Isn’t it, though?”
We arrived at a master bedroom suite, large enough to house a family of eight. It was done up in gold and burgundy, with antique furniture and ornate lamps scattering warm yellow light.
“That is the biggest bed I’ve seen in my life.”
“You won’t even notice I’m there,” he said behind me.
“Of course not because you’re sleeping in there.” I turned and pointed to a well-appointed room across the hall.
He didn’t even bother to look. “Vinny is sleeping across the hall.”
“Then take one of the other five bedrooms.” I didn’t care.
It was a shame, though. I was used to being both respected and shunned by the pack. Nobody had ever wanted me. Now the one man who might, also happened to want to eat me.
I couldn’t win.
Lucien braced his hands on the door frame, filling it completely, and I had the horrible sensation of wanting to close the distance between us.
He gave a sexy smile, as if he knew. “We need to feel comfortable around each other if we’re going to maintain our charade.”
Luckily I was not vapid or stupid, even if Lucien would prefer it. “Kissing you was not in the contract.”
He moved his mouth dangerously close to mine. I felt strangely vulnerable as he brushed his fingers along the edge of my jaw. His thumb found the curve of my chin. “You could use a good kiss.”
I didn’t doubt that. But I didn’t need it from him.
He broke the contact and I nearly slithered to the ground with relief. If he’d tried to kiss me at that very moment, I wasn’t sure what I would have done.
He brushed past me, toward the bed, which gave me time to press my legs together tightly and try to forget I’d ever met a vampire named Lucien.
He stretched out over the bloodred bedcovers, his back against the antique headboard. God, he was a solid piece of man. And I’d seen a lot of well-built weres.
I couldn’t let Lucien get to me. “What do you really want?” I demanded. But I was already in trouble. I’d never been so aware of my body—or tempted to learn the god-awful truth.
Darned if the vampire didn’t know what I was thinking. “You’re not about to use your power on me.”
“Of course not,” I snapped.
“Then why are you tilting your chin down?”
“My chin?”
“Back in the crypt, you lowered your chin a fraction right before you began the interrogation.”
Interesting. I’d never been aware I did that. I tried to imagine interrogating someone and realized he was right.
Lucien went cold. “Don’t you ever interrogate me.”
“There’s no need,” I said. “Is there?” I ignored his scowl. “It might not even work on your kind.” Although I believed it would.
“Nevertheless,” he said, “I’ll question the vamps. You question the wives.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine.”
I had a feeling I was going to be doing the heavy lifting.
His phone beeped. Lucien eased it out from his back pocket and checked the screen. “After you speak with Tia, I think you should question the vulture. She seems a likely suspect.”
“Agreed. Where will you be tomorrow?” He certainly couldn’t sleep in the bedroom. It had three bay windows.
His expression didn’t give anything away. “The Vampire Council has made certain provisions for me.”
“But you won’t tell me what or where?”
His pointed look said it all.
“Way to go, partner.” I should have known. “You’ll hop into bed with me just so long as I don’t know where you sleep.”
He patted the mattress next to him. “Must you make things difficult?”
“Actually, refusing to sleep with you will make things a lot simpler. And while we’re at it, let’s lay down some ground rules. Number one: no bed sharing.”
Lucien scowled.
“Number two: no kissing.”
“I think you’d like it.”
“That’s beside the point,” I snapped, reddening when I realized what I’d said. “Number three,” I said a little louder, ignoring his smug expression. “No bloodsucking.”
“Those are not very good rules.”
I didn’t ask for his approval, just as he hadn’t asked for mine. “They’re my rules.”
“Agreed,” he said. “Now I have one more.”
“Lay it on me.”
He gave me a long look. “Never use your truth powers on me.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I asked just to tick him off.
He didn’t even have the courtesy to take the bait. “Agreed?” he asked.
“Agreed,” I said, slipping out of the room.
This was going to be a long three days.