Читать книгу A Venetian Vampire - Michele Hauf - Страница 11
ОглавлениеKyler pulled on the oversize T-shirt that she’d tossed over the towel bar. She should have brought a change of clothing into the bathroom with her, but she’d wanted to get out of the main room as quickly as possible. The sight of Dante standing in wet briefs that clung to his hard-as-steel cock had almost undone her.
She had only to remind herself of the empty backpack sitting on the closet floor to lose all interest in the sexy bastard. Sneaky and sexy made a terrible combination, so she would remain on her toes. Because...damn. She’d made a promise to another man to bring the egg to him. She wouldn’t renege. He’d given her so much. And he offered her so much more than Dante ever could.
Stepping out of the bathroom in a mist of steam, she found Dante sitting on the bed, a pillow supporting his back, his hands clasped behind his neck. The position beckoned her gaze to his chest and abs. Tight and hard, a landscape that demanded an assessment from her fingertips. And then she noticed the white towel had a gap right...there.
“Your turn,” she said, walking briskly to the table by the window and trying to look busy by opening the room service folder. “I may have used all the hot water. I’m not sorry.”
“That shirt,” he said as he stood.
“What about it?” She tugged out the frayed hem from the thirty-year-old rock concert T-shirt she’d inherited from her mother. It was one of the very few things Kyler had kept after she had died.
“Def Leppard?” He shuddered. “I was around when they were in their prime, but I can’t imagine you were even a thought in your parents’ minds then.”
“Trust me—I was a thought. What do you think inspired my parents to have the sex that produced me if not ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’? Got a problem with it?”
“I think they’re an excellent band. But the thing is four sizes too big for you. It doesn’t show off your attributes.”
“Suck it, vampire.”
He gaped at her, but too quickly that familiar smirk tugged a corner of his mouth. “I’ve said you’re not ready for me to suck on you.”
“No, I meant it as—” She gestured dismissively. Did the man not recognize an insult when he heard one? Probably had never been insulted in his lifetime. Pretty bastard. “Never mind. Go take a shower before that towel falls off.”
He pulled the towel away to reveal an astute erection. Kyler’s jaw dropped. And Dante swung his equipment around and strolled into the bathroom, his dimpled, tight buttocks mocking her as he went. She couldn’t see his grin, but she knew it was there.
“You’re back to sneaky!” she called as the door closed.
And she needed a drink of ice water.
And to check her messages. Sitting on the bed, she grabbed the cell phone she’d left on the nightstand and scrolled through messages. Nothing about a pickup meeting place. That was weird. The vampire who had sent her on this mission knew she was going to nab the egg last night. Wouldn’t he have expected she’d have it in hand by now?
He had been explicit that she not call him. He was a busy man. He didn’t take calls; he made them. She wasn’t sure what his profession was exactly—beyond vampire—but she assumed it was stressful.
She should check the local news. See if the theft had been reported.
“This may be a good thing,” she mused. Because she didn’t have the egg in hand. She had to hurry and get it back. When the message finally did come through, she wanted to be able to move as quickly as possible.
“Werewolves,” she said. A big sigh sifted through her lips as she pulled her fingers through her wet hair. “I have no experience with werewolves.”
She was thankful Dante had suggested their dip in the canal to dissuade the werewolves from their scent. That man thought on his feet and used his instincts as they were meant to be utilized. She could learn from him.
If she weren’t trying to dodge him and keep him away from the prize.
Picking up the remote, she clicked on the TV and determined the scroll across the bottom of the screen, in Italian, was local news. She found the captioning and switched it to English. Weather. Museum times. Breaking news: Fabergé egg missing.
Missing?
“Not stolen? Weird.” But no matter to her. What did matter was that the media knew. It wouldn’t take long before such information reached Paris, where her contact waited. “Now the heat is on, and I have no idea where the egg is.”
She had failed miserably. But she wasn’t about to give up. As long as she had Dante on her side, she could use him, just as he had used her. Much as she hated to admit it, she needed him. He knew the city and werewolves.
Ten minutes later, he emerged in a cloud of jasmine-scented steam, wearing a towel tightly wrapped about his hips. After rubbing his hair with another towel, he then tossed that aside to his abandoned clothes pile. His short hair stuck up like bristles on his scalp, a dark cap that drew her eye directly to his face. His bone structure was something else. All lines and angles and exquisite shadows. Mmm, for one more taste of his sex-warm skin.
“Maybe housekeeping can dry and iron your shirt for you?” Kyler offered in an attempt to redirect her wandering lust.
She got up to sit in the armchair beside the TV. She’d forgotten to get dressed between fretting over werewolves and what she’d say to her friend if she didn’t get the egg back.
“It’s silk. It’s ruined.” Dante toed the heap of his wet clothing. “I’ll leave it for the hotel to donate to charity. If anyone wants to bother with this disaster. The shower felt great after a swim in the canal. And the water was still hot, much as you may have wished otherwise. Though I abhor the shampoo scent. I smell like flowers. Ah. Still in the ugly shirt, I see.”
“You are such a charmer. How did I ever see Casanova in you?”
“As I’ve said, I’m nothing at all like that roustabout.”
He sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard and stretching out his legs, giving no indication he might consider getting dressed. Kyler wondered how long it would take the tailor to deliver a new suit. Depending on the length of their wait, it could prove good, bad and so, so...naughty.
“I should get dressed.” She stood and wandered to the closet, selecting a snug pair of black capris and a red shirt. She nodded toward the muted TV. “Check out the news scroll.”
Behind the closed bathroom door, she swiftly changed and then drew some eyeliner on and combed her hair. She rarely did blush and eye shadow because she never could get makeup right. Her skin was flawless, though, so she never missed a made-up face. She bet Dante dated glamour-pusses. Those who really knew how to put themselves together and who could wield a makeup brush like an artist.
“Just average,” she said to her thoughts. A sigh felt necessary, but she did not.
What was wrong with enjoying an exciting affair with a sexy man? Beyond that he wanted to steal something from her. She needed him as much as he needed her. So she’d work with him. For now.
Back out in the main room, Dante observed the TV. “The media is not reporting it as theft, merely missing,” he said. “Curious. They must be trying to keep it quiet.”
“By broadcasting it on TV?”
“Can’t prevent the reporters that feed on the sensational, I’m sure. We need to get out of Venice.”
“Not without the egg. It’s noon. Do you think we’ll be able to pick up the werewolves’ scent again?”
“So you are relying on me now to help you in your endeavors? I thought you had decided to hate me?”
“I do hate you. With a passion.”
“Always be passionate about your endeavors, Kitten. It makes them tolerable, whether good or bad.”
“Whatever. But you do seem to have the better nose. I’ll follow it until it leads me to the prize.”
“I will do my best. But there will be a struggle between the two of us at the end—I can assure you of that.”
“I’m strong.”
“Yes, I noticed that last night.” He tilted forward a shoulder and looked over it. “The claw marks are no longer there, but you do like to dig in and hold on, don’t you?”
“You loved it.”
“Of course I did. You are exuberant and fiery when properly aroused. And wow. Red is really your color.”
She blew out a breath and shook her head. He was baiting her, and she should not take the hook. Again. It was just another line in his Casanova script, she told herself. He probably said the same thing to every woman he fucked.
“What is your reason for stealing the egg, if you’ll share with me?” he asked. “I would guess the monetary reward, but really, we both know fencing that thing will prove a bitch. It’s too famous. A lost Fabergé egg?”
“It’s worth millions,” Kyler said. “Why wouldn’t I want the thing?”
“So you’re a professional thief, are you?”
No belief in that question whatsoever. She set back her shoulders with as much confidence as she could muster. “I am.”
He eyed her soberly.
Kyler felt her bravado slip. The man could read her like a book. And that stare was 100 percent seduce and master.
She wandered to the end of the bed. “I’m not going to give details. In my profession, that’s never wise.”
“Of course not. So it’s a profession for you? I’m so glad I stepped aside to allow the professional to handle the details.”
“Damn right.”
“So you’ve a fence or buyer lined up?”
“Maybe.” She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.
“And where does this friend come in? I thought you said you’d picked up a piece of art for him. Or was that a lie you made up when we met at the bar? It is a him, yes?”
“It is. And it wasn’t a lie. But how can you know the art I told you about was the egg?”
“You’ve committed two heists since arriving in Venice?”
Kyler shook her head. The man was insufferable! “Just the one. What about you? You said you were casing the place the same time as me. You don’t strike me as particularly in need of pin money.”
“I am quite well off, thank you.”
No kidding. The palazzo must be worth a fortune, and she bet the suits set him back a couple thousand per outfit. “And I recall you said you weren’t a thief? I don’t get it.”
“There’s nothing to get, Kyler. I wanted the Nécessaire egg. I devised a way to obtain it, via you.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
“I can’t argue the night ending on a high point with you pierced by my cock.” He stroked his jaw. The move was so sensual Kyler’s body heat rose a few degrees.
Neither could she make the argument. And just the sound of it—pierced by his cock—ooh, it gave her a good shiver.
“And I do love a good adventure. Such as werewolves,” he continued. “They provide a challenge. Keeps an old vamp on his toes. And in this case, I’ve also the pleasurable challenge of dallying with a very pretty vampiress thief who wishes to thwart my mission.”
“I’ve never thwarted anything. I’m not a thwarter. But I will win this one. I don’t care why you want the egg. It was mine. I had my hands on it. And I will have it again.”
“Do you know what the egg does?”
She shrugged. She had a good idea what the egg could make happen, and she understood it wasn’t the actual egg, but something inside it. But she wasn’t about to lay down all her cards before this guy.
“I thought it was a woman’s cosmetic kit inside the Nécessaire egg?” she said. “That’s what was advertised on the auction profile.”
“Right. Filled with combs, nail files, a mirror and so on. But beyond what the public knows...let’s say it is important I obtain the egg. For the safety of many.”
Kyler rolled her eyes. “Too vague. You didn’t win that argument.”
Dante tilted his head back against the headboard and slid a hand down his abs. The action took her out of her cautious reluctance and into a wanting desire for what was not-so-cleverly hidden beneath the towel.
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll play this game of cat and mouse. I like games. Especially one matched against a beautiful woman.”
“I never mix business with pleasure,” Kyler said quickly.
“Too late,” he said in a singsongy tone. “I’ve tasted your sweetness. Everywhere.”
Her shoulders dropped. Yeah, tell her about it. She hated the man. But she also found him irresistible. And she hated herself for being interested in him. This was exhausting.
“So what will we do with ourselves until my clothes arrive?”
“I’m not waiting for clothes,” she said. “Perhaps I’ll step out and see if I can pick up the trail.”
“That wouldn’t be wise.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“I would only wish to do such when you are naked and wanting before me.”
She bristled and turned her head quickly to hide the sigh that crossed her lips.
Dante leaned forward. “Have you experience with werewolves, Kyler? With fighting them? We do know the ones we heard on the bridge are armed with stakes. And they have our scents. How many times have you faced down the pointy tip of a stake?”
She’d forgotten about that. Her answer was never, and please, never let it happen anytime. Soon enough she wouldn’t have to worry about a stake being her end. But if she wanted to maintain any sort of advantage in this game of Dante’s, she couldn’t let him see her bluff.
“And what is your experience with fending off wolves?” she countered. “Are you some kind of trained killer? A werewolf slayer?”
Dante chuckled and swung his legs off the bed. As he stood, he ran his fingers through his hair, which had already dried; the short strands stuck up ever so invitingly. “Over the decades I’ve picked up some defense skills. Werewolves may be strong, but they’re slow. We vamps have speed and agility going for us. And I’d like to think we have the brains, as well. The dogs are stupid. But if they are part of a pack, then we have to be careful. Two or even three werewolves shouldn’t present a problem. A whole pack? Then we’ve got issues.”
“How do you know if they are with a pack?”
He shrugged. “That is something we probably won’t know until it’s too late.”
Kyler scoffed at his lack of knowledge. “What about you? Are you in a tribe?” She knew vampires gathered in tribes. She remained independent—not for lack of wanting to be in a tribe but rather for not knowing how to approach one to join.
“Yes.” He strolled around to the end of the bed and stood three feet from her. Kyler’s neck heated. She could feel his electrically sensual draw prickle at her skin through the air. Her nipples hardened. She caught her breath before another exhale could escape. “Tribe Incroyables.”
“Seriously? The Incredibles? That’s kind of cocky, don’t you think?”
“We are rather incredible,” he said with all the boisterous pride such a statement demanded. “I didn’t name the tribe. It’s a tip of the hat to Dumas’s musketeers. Our tribe leader, Christian De Bareaux, was a musketeer in the seventeenth century. He’s a good man.”
“How many are in your tribe?”
“About a dozen. But no women allowed. Johnny Santiago’s sister wanted to join, and we wouldn’t allow it.”
“So an old boy’s club, eh?”
“Exactly, and we like it that way. What about you?” He took her in, assessingly this time. “You are tribeless.” He stated it as fact.
“I am, and I like it that way. I don’t care to have vampires telling me what to do.”
“What vampire has told you what to do?”
She met his gaze and felt his delving intrusion deep in her being. It felt as if he peeled her open to expose the center, the secret parts she tried desperately to keep concealed. She fiddled with the shirt hem as he stepped closer.
“No one,” she said, looking away. And then, more testily, she argued, “None of your business.”
“Ah. So someone has told you what to do, and you’re rebelling against it ever happening again. Good for you, Kitten.”
“He didn’t tell me what to do. I want to do this for him. I owe him.”
“Ah? For what, may I ask?”
“None of your business.”
“But the he you mention is the same he you’ve stolen the egg for?”
“This conversation is over.” She turned to pick up the backpack, and he placed a hand against the wall over her shoulder.
“Since we can’t leave,” Dante said, “and since we’ve dispensed with the get-to-know-you bullshit, and you’ve set a boundary on conversation topics, I’m of a mind to make a suggestion for a new activity.”
She could make one guess what that activity was, but she wouldn’t—couldn’t—succumb to his seductions. No matter that this was the first time she’d seen him in daylight and noticed how clear his sea glass eyes were. Cool and mysterious, like the Venetian lagoon.
“And what is your suggestion?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“We can either turn up the volume on the television and zone out on some idiotic talk show, or...” He leaned in until his nose brushed her wet hair above her ear. “Despite the fact you’re fully dressed, I could nail you to the wall with this.” The heavy weight of his cock beneath the towel thudded against her hip.
Kyler maintained a modicum of strength. “I thought you liked the red shirt?”
He nodded and nuzzled his nose aside her cheek. “I do. The color makes your skin glow. But it’s a bit loose. It doesn’t emphasize your assets as something tighter would. I like your curves, Kitten.” He licked her skin. Shivers traced her spine. The vampiric shimmer sparkled into her belly. “All of them.”
