Page 31 of Cursed

Chapter Eleven

Edeena swayed a little against Vince as he walked her away from his parents’ house beneath a broad canopy of stars, their pinpoints dimmed by the glare from the city. She wasn’t drunk—barely tipsy, in fact—but she was happy for any excuse that allowed her to fold herself into Vince’s big, warm body, so solid and sure.

“In Garronia, out in the country, you can see so many more stars in the sky than you can in the city,” she said, looking upward. She smiled at the memory, and at a newer one. “You can at Heron’s Point, too, some nights, when the clouds don’t bunch up on the horizon.”

“Easy does it, there,” Vince murmured as she lost her footing, and she blinked, checking her reaction.

“I’m not drunk,” she said, quite certain of that fact. “Really and truly.”

“Ah,” Vince said evenly. “That’s too bad.”

They’d reached the SUV and he pulled open the door for her, helping her inside. She climbed in easily enough, but stopped his hand when he moved to shut the door again. “Why too bad?”

His smile was soft and maybe a little bit mischievous. “If you weren’t feeling entirely yourself, I’d suggest you spend the night at my place, versus run the risk of falling ill on our way back to the island.”

He pulled away from her and shut the door, leaving Edeena to stare at him as he went around the front of the car. Her heart had begun to hammer recklessly, any residual fatigue from the long day now completely wiped away. She waited until he was seated, then turned to him as casually as she could manage. “Your place?”

“I have a top floor apartment in the historical district with a view of the harbor,” he said, putting the SUV into gear. “A good spot to crash, not too far from here.” He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “Very safe, should you ever need it.”

She lifted her brows. “And the only way I can finagle an invitation to this very safe location is if I’m sick? Not if, say, I was curious about the residence of this man to whom I’ve entrusted my welfare and the welfare of my sisters?”

He frowned, seeming to consider that. “It’s a good point,” he conceded at last. “As my primary current client, you do have a right to know that you can trust me.”

“And what better way is there to truly understand a man than to see if he wears pink slippers in his living room?”

Now his glance was a little bolder. “I can assure you, I don’t wear pink slippers.”

“Satin smoking jacket, then?”

That merited her a laugh. “No satin of any type in my apartment, I’m afraid. Or silk either. I’m much more a cotton kind of guy.”

“See, already I’m learning valuable information that could make or break my sense of personal safety.” Edeena settled back in her seat as Vince eased the car onto the street, turning toward the lights of the city. “You really must take me there.”

“If you insist,” he said, and she felt a curl of delicious anticipation whisper through her. She was going to the apartment of a strange man, she realized with almost giddy good humor. It was perhaps the first time she’d done so since she’d been away at college, away from the constant, careful eye of her father. Of course, she’d known she’d been followed at school, but there’d still been something so unreasonably scandalous about being in a student dorm without the usual thirteen layers of security.

She felt the same way now—safe, protected even, yet skirting along the edge of danger.

It only took a few minutes for them to reach the historic downtown area of Charleston, and Edeena’s enjoyment was only heightened by her wonder at all the lights and charm of the city center, even at the end of summer. “This place must be beautiful at Christmas,” she said, and Vince chuckled.

“Decorating is something we take very seriously in Charleston. Something for you and your sisters to keep in mind, if you plan on staying for the holidays. Any of them.”

Edeena winced inwardly, but refused to be put off by Vince’s idle words. He had no idea what the future held in store for her, despite all the files he’d seen at Heron’s Point. He probably still thought she would find a way to work around her problems. Only, she wouldn’t be working around them, exactly. She’d work through them, when the time came. And tonight was not that time.

Vince pulled onto a quaint street running along a park, and whistled as a car pulled out in front of him, affording him parking by the curb. “Definitely my—well,” he cut himself off abruptly. Edeena wasn’t about to wait for the niceties of him opening the door for her. Instead, she was out of the car almost before it came to a halt, stepping back so she could get an unobstructed view of the line of charming brick homes that marched along the street.

“You live here?”

“Admired it my whole life,” Vince said, and she caught the abashed note in his voice. “When I could finally afford it, I almost couldn’t believe it.”

“You worked hard,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to him. “You should receive the benefit of that.”

He shrugged. “Worked hard, got lucky. It’s all in the mix. Come on, I’ll show you.”

He took her hand and led her into the building, past the smiling attendant and into a gleaming elevator bay, the modern mechanics at odds with the old-world charm of the building. Vince used a special key to activate the keypad, and Edeena’s brows lifted as they sped skyward. “This must be some apartment,” she murmured, feeling strangely like the poor relation for the first time in her life.

“I like it,” Vince said simply. The doors opened a moment later onto a gleaming foyer with beautiful hardwood floor and an antique washing stand centered beneath a mirror. A single door rested opposite the elevator, and Vince ushered her toward it.

“You own this?” she said again, and he chuckled.

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