Page 39 of Obsessed in Blood
From what Asshole implied, Lorenzo’s late-night meeting would be Brigette. I really had to check my need for attention because I shouldn’t be irritated that he was seducing me while having cozy nights with his mistress. These conversations with Lorenzo were a dangerous game, but spending time with him might provide valuable information. And one could never have too much of that.
I lifted my brows and gazed at the ceiling as if I were considering my options. The possibilities of what he’d allow me would be narrow, and no doubt his yet-to-be-revealed House rules would apply.
“I’d like a tour of the manor.”
His brows lifted. “You must have seen most of it with Mrs. Newbridge.”
I grimaced. “My feet would agree with you, but my days trailing behind her mad search for any drop of dust isn’t the same. From my quick glimpses, you have interesting art and amazing heirlooms. The architecture alone is stunning.” I lowered my gaze and shrugged. “No one can properly show off a house than the one who owns it.”
I crossed my fingers that I hadn’t gone too far. But the light in his eyes and the straightening of his shoulders revealed his pride leaking out.
“Ernesto, have our brandy served on the office balcony in an hour.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let me take you on a historical tour of my home.” His smile was charming. “I hope I don’t bore you.”
I stood, returning his smile as my skin warmed to his touch. “I don’t see how that could be possible.”
An hour later, I wanted to strangle myself rather than listen to Lorenzo pontificate on the glorious battles his ancestors fought in, his business prowess, or the rich artifacts he’d collected over his long life, which was somewhere around five hundred years, give or take a hundred.
The tour ended in his private office, which was elaborately decorated with dark-paneled walls and paintings of battle scenes. A massive wood desk was on the left with two bookcases behind it. On the right was a gas-lit fireplace surrounded by two leather sofas and four matching chairs. Twelve monitors filled the space on another wall above another sitting area. Next to it was a fully stocked bar. I expected an espresso machine, then sighed. Once again, other images were superimposed over reality, and I didn’t know why. Was I seeing remnants from House Trelane or a different place?
He led me out to the balcony where the brandy had been poured. Instead of sitting, I picked up my glass and strolled to the classic stone railing made with an open framework design and peered out over the island. The sun had set, and dusk was settling over the landscape, but it was light enough to make out a boat leaving the dock, heading toward the mainland. I checked the watch I’d found in a jewelry box. It was nearing eight o’clock.
“You found the watch.” He stood close enough for our arms to brush.
“Just this morning.” I made a pretense of showing him. “The diamonds are a perfect touch.”
“I thought so.” He wrapped an arm around my waist.
“Doesn’t it get old having to take a boat each time you need to go to the mainland?”
He turned his gaze to where the boat was already halfway across the small channel. “That’s the transport for staff and cargo. I use a small yacht with its own office. The trip is about twenty minutes including docking and isn’t much different than having to drive through traffic.”
“And I’m sure a limo is always waiting dockside,” I said in a chiding tone as I bumped his hip.
“Always.” He set our glasses on the railing and turned me to him, lifting my chin. “Just another couple of days and I’ll welcome you to my bed.” He kissed me, his body more than ready as he pushed it against mine, the rail now to my back.
The vamp knew what he was doing as one arm held me against him as his hand roamed. Through it all, I could only guess why he was waiting. Was it a mind game? And then it came to me. He wanted me completely mesmerized. He wanted me to come to him, eager and willing. Then his mastery of me would be complete.
His hand moved to a more intimate spot, and I tried to relax, knowing I couldn’t prevent his actions, when a chime made him stiffen. He didn’t stop until the chime rang again.
“Damn it. I need to take this.” He stepped away so quickly I had to grab the rail. I downed the rest of my brandy.
He was on the phone, and though I couldn’t hear what he was saying, his tone was growing angrier by the second.
I ignored him and considered the railing and ledge before leaning over the side, which required placing a foot in one of the open spaces between the stones. I climbed up another step that put most of my body weight over the railing. The height didn’t scare me. Instead, my gaze darted to the open stonework that framed the balcony, searching for hand and toe holds I could use to either climb down to the garden below or up to the roof.
I wasn’t sure why I might want to do that, but a memory flashed of a climbing wall, then I was clambering up the side of a three-story house, running across a similar railing before grabbing onto a cornice and pulling myself up to the next floor. I used a knife to slip the latch and open the slider.
The room was dark, and I scanned it with a penlight, searching for my target. I had entered a condo where the owners weren’t home. That couldn’t be right. That would make me—what—a thief?
I jumped down from the railing and sat down hard on the patio chair.
I remembered that place. Not only did I break in, but I went directly to the safe that was hidden behind a portrait. Not a surprise. Many safes were hidden behind paintings. This particular one had been a disturbing sight, and I’d run my penlight over it several times before the timer in my head said to move on. I cracked the safe with the third code I tried, found the envelope I’d been paid to recover, and took a stack of money and a small bag of jewels. After shoving the goods into a backpack, I raced toward the entryway and slid into a closet. I waited five minutes before the door opened with a card key and two people stumbled in. Based on the sounds, they’d been in heavy petting mode.
A soft thud that might have been a purse hitting the marble floor. Something slammed into the closet door, and I held my breath. When the sounds grew distant, I cracked open the door. They were down the hall and turning into the master bedroom. A single shoe lay halfway down the hall next to what looked like a blouse.
I glanced down before leaving the closet and saw the other shoe. That must have been what had hit the closet. I quietly opened the front door, grateful they hadn’t reset the alarm, though I knew the code. The outer hallway was empty, and I whipped off my face mask and stuffed it in the backpack. Once I hit the stairwell, I pulled off my black sweater and jammed it in the pack then ruffled my hair as I raced down the stairs to the first floor which had two exits—one to the lobby and one outside. When I opened the door, Lorenzo pulled me up by my arm, breaking the memory.
I held in my emotions as his angry face stared down at me. Had I done something wrong?
