Page 23 of Blood Bonds

“Good girl,”he said as if to himself, and the sexual shiver trickled down my spine as he fed the flames of my fantasy.

Then my eyes snapped open, forcing me to let it go as Victor followed me by folding his much larger frame next to mine. Then he closed the door and the car soon pulled away to join traffic.

“You never did tell me where in the city you lived?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I live in Lower Manhattan,” I told him, and he looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he were filing away this information.

“Alone?” he asked, and that deep timber was back, as if he hated the idea that I had a boyfriend at home. Was that the reason for the sternness that slipped back in and coated that single word? The idea that he wanted me to be single nearly made me giggle with happiness.

“No,” I told him, trying not to smirk myself, not yet giving him what he wanted and wondering if he would press further. I wasn’t disappointed.

“And tell me, what would your boyfriend say now if he knew you were about to have coffee with me?” he asked, and as we passed the lights of the city, I could just see the hard set of his jaw, as if he struggled with the idea that I may have a boyfriend. So, I tried not to smile and instead turned to him, before telling him,

“I don’t know, but I can imagine he wouldn’t like it… that was if he existed. My roommate, however, well, she would most likely berate me for not having dinner with you.”

At this he visibly relaxed before allowing himself to grin.

“Then I believe that I will like this roommate of yours,” he said, and I couldn’t help but laugh at that, a sound he seemed to like if the intense look he gave me was anything to go by.

God, it was like he was watching my every movement, taking note or something. Was he really that interested in me? It was hard to believe, but I also knew that thanks to my last disastrous relationship, trusting the sincerity of people was hard for me. And well, someone this good looking, it also brought out the worst in me. My lack of self-confidence was like a cloud that loomed over me and sitting here now… it was thundering like a storm.

“We are here,” he said, because I had failed to notice that we had stopped, too lost in my bitter self-loathing. So, I tried to shake myself free of it and exited the car, opening the door just as the driver was coming to do it for me.

“Oh, sorry, I’m not used to having the door opened for me,” I told him, making the driver nod his head but not speak a word. However, Victor had heard this and commented once more, again doing so as if he was speaking to himself.

“Well, that is about to change… shall we?” he said as we walked to the door.

The view beyond the glass door was warm, inviting, and looked more like some trendy living room than a place of business. Of course, Victor made a move to open the door for me but at the same time I reached for the handle, getting there just before him. I turned just in time to see him gritting his teeth, that tick in his jawline jumping.

“Oh sorry… I just…” I didn’t finish because he hummed down at me, getting close to my ear, and sending another delicious shiver down my spine for the tenth time tonight.

“Ssshh now, sweet Vanessa.”

I swear I nearly stumbled to the floor, tripping over my own feet, and I was forced to right myself when I took a clumsy step inside. Jesus, what was it this man was doing to me?

I just hoped he hadn’t noticed it. He hadn’t started laughing or anything, so maybe I got away with it. I really envied those graceful women that seemed to have the ability to glide into a room with such sexy confidence, you just knew that they belonged. Like they simply commanded the space around them and forged it into whatever they desired.

Oh, to be that woman.

“Hi, what can I get you?” a pretty redhead said behind the counter. She was wearing a head scarf that matched the flowery pattern of her top, paired with flared jeans.

“I will have a mocha please… oh no, erm… oh, to froth or not to froth…” I hummed to myself, making Victor chuckle behind me. I knew one look at that devastating smile of his and I would be lost for words again, so I purposely ignored it.

“Sorry, can I have a vanilla latte, double shot of espresso but with extra foam please?” I asked, making her tap it into the till. Then I turned to find Victor smirking down at me as if he found my order amusing.

“And for you, sir?” the woman asked.

Without taking his eyes from me, he told her, “Black, Americano.”

Of course, he would take it black. I didn’t see him being a fancy coffee type of guy anyway.

“That will be 9.75 please,” the woman asked, and I turned to rummage through my bag for my wallet, when I heard the peep of a machine. I looked back to see that he had already tapped his card to the reader, making me shoot him a look.

“But I said I would pay,” I complained, something he grinned at, and it was one of those rare, full ones that had me near breathless.

“Must have slipped my mind,” he teased in a playful tone.

I opened my mouth to say something, although what that would be, I didn’t know. Thankfully, the woman behind the counter saved me the embarrassment.

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