Page 51 of Seduction in Blood
"I've been known to stay for a few days, but usually no more than a week. And I always reserve hotels in faraway places for the same time period, making arrangements for people to spend time at the hotel, pretending they're seeing to my needs."
"That seems like a lot of work."
"It is. Someday, hopefully soon, I'll make a move to put an end to my enemy, or at least take the teeth out of his hold. Then I'll be able to make this place my own."
Cressa touched his arm. "I'm sorry. As much as you love this place, it must be difficult to come here for only short periods of time. Thank you for bringing me."
Her touch and words pleased him in a way he couldn't decipher. He cleared his throat. "Let's give you the grand tour, then I'll leave you to your own devices while I take care of some business."
She smiled with excitement. "So, I do get some time to myself?"
He couldn't help but match her enthusiasm. "As long as you stay out of trouble."
She only winked as she took his proffered arm.
ChapterTwenty-Four
I flippedthrough the pages of the women's magazine, the odd aroma of perfume mixing with the scent of early spring roses from the pots lining the terrace. Ginger would love it here, but based on our earlier call, she was the lucky one. The exclusive, members-only hotel was treating her like royalty. She had to cut our call short so she wouldn't miss her morning facial followed by an hour with the masseuse.
My left shoulder twinged, a leftover ache from my last training session. It seemed I didn't warrant spas or daily massages. But I couldn't begrudge Ginger's pampering. She'd never experienced that type of life and this might be her only opportunity. Fortunately, Ginger understood the world she'd been dropped into was a one-time shot, and she planned on taking full advantage. That was what it was like when you grew up poor, hungry, and battered. You grabbed what pleasures you could find and held on as long as you could.
Footsteps quietly approached, and I turned to see a young man refill my iced tea. He nodded when I smiled my thanks then disappeared with the same stealth. This was the life. When I'd lived at Christopher's, I never received this kind of treatment. That was for the adults—and April. I was always the outsider. Not here. Even in this massive estate filled with vampires, where I only knew Devon and Lucas, I felt more welcome than I ever did growing up in Christopher's house. I blew out a breath, pushing back the pain I felt every time I thought of my mother and how distant she'd become over the years. Ever since my sixth birthday. I couldn't remember most of it, that event that forever split the bond we'd shared after my father left us. Today wasn't the day for a trip down memory lane.
I tossed the magazine on the table and stood, raising my arms for a long stretch. I walked to the edge of the terrace and leaned against the glass railing to view the amazing backyard. It was reminiscent of the English gardens I'd seen in historical movies, full of wandering gravel paths, lush flower beds, and small sitting areas under trees just beginning to leaf out.
Lunch had been a simple affair, but Devon had invited two other vamps—Bella and Jacques—who had apparently returned late from an assignment. While Devon spoke about the job, which was basically tailing people I'd never heard of, Simone distracted me with nonsense about entertaining, dealing with the personal requests of seventy other vamps, and ensuring the liquor cabinets remained filled—the drama of running a household. I couldn't help but think of Anna's boring lessons. I'd drink myself silly if I had to deal with needy vamps for more than a day.
But Simone didn't fool me. While I had no doubt she knew a little something about everything she spoke of, I doubted she personally dealt with any of it. And if she thought I couldn't listen to more than one conversation at a time, she sorely underestimated an accomplished thief. Or someone who grew up an outsider in her own home. I might not know anything about Devon's business, but I could remember names and details. Who knew if they'd come in handy one day?
After lunch, I'd been left on my own as Devon and the others disappeared down the hall. I'd dipped my feet in the infinity pool and read magazines to the sounds of jazz. Now, it was time to explore.
The English garden beckoned, and I surveyed the paths from the second-floor terrace. A smaller dirt path meandered through the flower beds before trailing out through trees toward the lake. For a second, I saw a flash of a different lake, this one shining at night with large tents and dozens of people.
Curious, I raced down the stairs then slowed to a more moderate pace to the lower-floor terrace. The back of the house didn't have the typical solarium with glass walls and elegant French doors. Instead, these glass walls slid back to open an entire wall to the fresh spring day, with exposure to the early afternoon sun that kept the room warm.
I found the dirt path and forced myself to a steady pace, with time to appreciate the colorful blooms and emerging leaves. But I didn't see the flowers. Instead, images from the dreams emerged. After we'd waltzed to the music flowing from the tent, Devon had taken me to a spot under an oak tree. I stopped just before the wooded copse and turned in a circle, surveying the trees and elevation, searching for that knoll. My heart skipped a beat when I noticed a single oak, its stately branches a perfect dome. Could this be the same tree?
My feet moved without thought. The path moved toward the tree then turned toward the direction of the lake. After weaving through trees, the path opened to a small clearing that overlooked the lake. I braced my hand on the nearest tree, my breaths puffing out in short, rapid intervals. I forced several long inhales to slow my heart rate, then closed my eyes. Images of tents and colorful lanterns popped in my head. The song we'd danced to, the one I'd only ever heard in my dreams. This was the lake.
I touched my lips, could taste Devon's on mine, feel the warmth of his breath on my neck, the strength of his arms as he held me close, the whisper of my name. I shook myself.What the hell was happening?
I raced past the lake, following the bend in the path as it headed back to the house. After a hundred yards, the path ended at a rod-iron gate, decorated with impressive scrollwork. In the middle of the gate was the three-triangle symbol of the House Trelane. I didn't remember a gate, but I pushed on it, sure it would be locked. It wasn't. It opened quietly, and I stepped through, knowing what I would find. I closed the gate behind me and took the path to the left, stepping under the overhead vine covered with crimson roses and ending at a tree-shrouded grotto.
The same place I had waited in erotic anticipation. Where he'd held me and kissed me as if I was the only woman in the world. His head had been between my legs, making me writhe and moan until I screamed his name. Did that happen in the dream? Or was I projecting, knowing how it would end?
I dropped to my knees and ran my hands through the grass. Should I be able to remember the feel of the grass as my lover laid next to me? I fell back and spread my arms wide, staring into the azure sky—just a shade darker than his eyes, warm and inviting. I didn't know what the hell was happening to me. But rather than being terrified, I wondered if I ever wanted the dreams to stop.
* * *
Devon stareddown at his private garden from the second-floor balcony. No one had access to his master suite except for the house staff and Simone, who only came in when she required access to his private office. The garden had two entrances. The gate that Cressa must have come through and the door that led to the stairs to his suite.
The gate to the garden should have been locked. On their arrival, he'd forgotten to confirm that with Simone. He'd been too worried over what Cressa would think of the place to remember the garden. He hadn't meant for Cressa to find it. Certainly not. No. He just hadn't expected her to wander that far. He should have known better.
And the view of the garden simply surprised him.
After his meeting with Simone, he'd come to his personal suite to review the mission reports Bella and Jacques had filed. Somehow, he would determine the significance to his plans. The reports were filled with several avenues to explore if he could connect the dots. There had to be something in them he could exploit to his advantage. Lorenzo was excellent at covering his tracks. But everyone made mistakes—eventually. Devon was convinced he'd already made one. The trick was finding it.
Tired of thinking about Lorenzo, he'd thought instead about how to spend the rest of the day and evening with Cressa. One more meeting to go. He'd retrieved a glass of water from the bar and strolled to the balcony to let the fresh air revive him.
