Page 36 of Her Dark Salvation

I squirted water on my face and in my mouth. I handed it back to him with a scowl and headed for the locker room. I slumped onto one of the benches and gripped the old wood on either side of my thighs, hanging my head while I caught my breath.

Distracted. From the fight right in front of me and the fight to maintain control of my empire. And by a human, no less. A fragile human who’d likely never been exposed to crime and had no idea blood demons existed.

The instinct to possess and protect this woman I barely knew was running roughshod over the tight control I kept on my appetite for blood and sex. I wanted her. To feed from and to fuck, an inclination I’d never experienced beyond a fleeting moment. It bothered me.

I rolled my shoulders, pushed off the bench, and stripped out of my sweaty clothes. I didn’t wait for the water to warm up but stepped beneath the cold blast hoping to ice my unwelcome desires. I placed my palms flat against the tile, dropped my head, and closed my eyes. The water pounded the top of my head and shoulders.

Anna’s beautiful face appeared—its two little beauty marks, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the trusting expression she’d worn when she’d opened up.

Maybe she was right. Maybe there was more to life than responsibility. Maybe true happiness and satisfaction were possible.

Or maybe I couldn’t afford those things. Maybe belonging and companionship weren’t possible for an immortal criminal.

ChapterNine

Anna

The blinking cursor waited for my command. I typedstartat the terminal prompt, hit enter, and the compilation log flew up the screen. My first cut at a financial model of DEI’s European office. I leaned back in my chair and sipped my coffee through a self-satisfied smile. The draft was rudimentary. It had holes, and I’d fill those holes over the next week or two. But a structure in place after only five days? Not too shabby.

The silence of the penthouse was both a welcome reprieve and a disappointing vacuum. Mr. DeVita’s absence left an undeniable void.

The past two days had been illuminating, to say the least. Don Valenzano had visited my boss. He was, in fact, a close, personal associate of my boss. Then, the very next day, the same boss had attempted to bribe and threaten a city official. No matter how hard he’d tried to explain it away, that was extortion.

I shook my head and drained the last of my coffee. The model would take at least an hour to compile, and idle time was the devil’s playground. Or something like that. Time for a little internet sleuthing.

Google returned surprisingly few hits onMarco DeVita. The same three pictures showed up over and over again, and suddenly theNo Picturesclause of my NDA didn’t seem so strange. A younger portrait used for official DEI publicity. A casual but blurred picture of him holding a glass of wine at a charity event that could have taken place two weeks ago or two years ago. And a candid shot of him leaving Terme di Boston.

Waves of dark hair with silver pinstripes immaculately styled above stern features. A dominating stature accentuated by the clean lines of a fine, tailored suit. And obsidian eyes, staring into the camera, commanding attention and respect. A pleasant tingle rippled down my spine.

Brief glimpses of empathy and vulnerability had broken through Mr. DeVita’s domineering and arrogant exterior, and they tugged at the physical attraction I’d been trying to deny. Despite my best efforts to squash my growing interest, he’d become even more intriguing after the quiet moments we’d shared.

I shook off the warm sentiments, opened another browser tab, and continued my search. No mugshots or pictures of him with Valenzano. A sliver of relief cut through my suspicion and alleviated some of the guilt I had over my body’s reaction to his picture.

The results revealed more about DEI and the six terme than Mr. DeVita himself. I tried his name in a few people-finder websites as well, but records of Marco DeVita in Boston were thin at best, especially without a birthplace or a date. There was no telling if any of the hits were an exact match.

Hard to believe someone with such far-reaching financial interests could fly so far under the radar. Then again, given the NDA I signed, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. Mr. DeVita probably spent a small fortune keeping his name under wraps.

I pulled up the picture of him walking out of Terme, and the pleasant tingle morphed into a simmering heat. I closed my eyes and remembered the feel of his thick bicep beneath my fingers as we walked to the bakery. The heat spread, quickening my heart rate and making me squirm in my seat.

My eyes shot open. I’d never responded so primally to a man before. I reached for my water bottle, unnerved.

The elevator dinged, and I jumped, quickly closing the browser and restoring the terminal window.

Siobhán sashayed off the elevator with all the style and grace of an early Hollywood starlet. Her tea-length skirt swished above a pair of heels I’d give anything to master. Her white blouse was tucked into her skirt, the ensemble cinched with a tight belt around her tiny waist, and once again her hair and makeup were perfectly set, white teeth gleaming behind ruby red lips.

I sighed and rested my chin on my hands, stars in my eyes as I watched her glide across the foyer to my desk. I’d always dreamed of being tall, confident, and graceful instead of short, awkward, and clumsy.

“Hi, Anna,” she said, her voice light and friendly. She half-sat on the edge of my desk facing the window and folded her hands against her thigh.

We were around the same age, both career women, and she had an easygoing, nonjudgmental manner that reminded me a lot of Jeff. It made talking to her comfortable and effortless.

“Hi, Siobhán. What brings you up here?”

“You, girl. I’m here to take you to lunch. And to check on you.” She winked. “Marco mentioned he was flying out this morning and asked me to pop in to see if you needed anything.”

“Oh. That was… nice of him.”

“He’s a sweetheart.” Her expression and voice reflected the warmth she obviously felt for the man.

---