Garnet Lacey - Tall, Dark And Dead Part 6

I nuzzled under his arm. He smelled good, musk-manly and something spicy, like cinnamon. It felt good to be held. His fingers stroked my hair.

Oops. Suddenly I was all turned on. His presence, his smell, the rock-hard smoothness of his muscles had me thinking about kissing and grunting and sweating. Problem? He was being all brotherly comforting, and it would be wildly inappropriate to grab a handful of his silky black hair and plunge lips-first into a bruiser of a kiss.

What to do now? How could I transform this moment of sympathy into hot, sweaty s.e.x? I pushed myself closer under his arm, wiggled a bit, then felt foolish for even thinking about jumping Sebastian under these circ.u.mstances. I took in a deep breath and tried to be satisfied with the moment.

Nope. Too hot and bothered.

I straightened out of his embrace. "It's late, isn't it," I said glancing around the room for a clock. "I should probably call a taxi if I'm going to get home at a decent hour."

"I'm afraid all the decent hours have already pa.s.sed," Sebastian said. "It's quarter of midnight. Anyway, the guest room is already made up. You can stay here tonight."

I liked the sound of his proposition minus the guest bedroom part. Ah, well, I supposed he was being gentlemanly about it all and not presuming.

"Yeah," I said, trying to hide my disappointment. "That would be fine."

The room Sebastian showed me smelled of dust and lavender. Lace valances, white curtains, calico comforter, and doilies all seemed perfectly preserved from someone else's life. Somehow, I couldn't picture Sebastian collecting a wooden darning egg and displaying it so artfully next to a bra.s.s-bottomed kerosene lamp.

"Whose room was this?" I asked. "Vivian," he said, glancing at the window as if looking for something.

When he didn't volunteer any more information, I prompted, "Vivian?"

"The former lady of the house," he said. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "But it's perfectly safe now."

Safe? That sounded very bad. I got the sense that I didn't want to know the answer, but I asked anyway. "She died in this room, didn't she?"

He nodded. "Kept the house off the market for years. Apparently, the whole murder-suicide thing was very spectacular."

"I'll bet," I said. "So, which one was Benjamin? The murder or the suicide?"

"Suicide."

I should have figured. "And you kept the room the same?"

"Not me. Benjamin." Picking up an embroidered sachet of potpourri from the end table beside the bed, he tossed it on the bed. "That'll drive him spare."

"Let me see..." I said, working this story out in my head, "Every time you try to change this room, Benjamin fixes it?"

"The good thing is that his obsession makes him an excellent housekeeper. Sometimes I can get him to clean other parts of house by putting her things around."

"This is supposed to make me feel better?" I looked at the bed with its deceptively homey pile of throw pillows. "No way. I'm sleeping on the couch."

Sebastian tried to insist that Benjamin wouldn't try to ax-murder me in my sleep, but I was able to convince him that there was no chance of me closing my eyes for one minute if I stayed in Vivian's room.

After helping Sebastian gather some pillows and blankets from the hall linen closet, I made myself a comfortable nest on the couch downstairs.

The rain continued to fall softly on the window. "Are you sure you'd prefer to sleep here?" Sebastian asked for the seventh time since I had backed hastily out of Vivian's room. "It's only that Benjamin will probably rattle around all night, and... well, I'd prefer to have you closer."

Closer? I liked the sound of that, but I wasn't sure how he meant it. "Oh?"

I could have sworn I saw the hint of a blush color his cheek. "Yes, well, in case of... emergency."

Were we talking hormonal emergency or something else? I a.s.sumed he meant if the Order somehow followed me here or if the ghost tried to kill me. "Do you honestly think Benjamin is that dangerous?

Maybe I shouldn't stay here at all tonight."

"Oh, no. It's safe. Really," he said quickly. Sebastian put another log on the fire, replaced the screen, and stood up. "Benjamin can't come inside unless I allow it. He can stay outside tonight."

I glanced at the rain-spattered windows and thought about an angry ghost shuffling around outside.

"Aw," I said. I felt weirdly guilty for putting an evil spirit out in the cold. "This is.h.i.+s house. I mean-"

Sebastian put up a finger up to shush me. "This ismy house. And you aremy guest for the evening.

Benjamin doesn't mind the cold. Weather doesn't bother him. Besides, if he doesn't like it here, there are places he can go."

Like h.e.l.l? I wondered, but I didn't really want to start a discussion about the transmigration of souls with a dead guy, so I fluffed my pillow and said, "Okay."

"Well, good night, then," Sebastian said.

"Good night," I said, waiting for him to head upstairs before settling down.

Instead, he stood there, staring at me. I knew that look. He wanted me. But he'd decided to play the gentleman, and now he was stuck in the role. I suppose I should have said something inviting, but I couldn't think of anything other than "Hey, so, you wanna... ?" And while that might be effective, it could also completely turn Sebastian off.

Besides, part of me really wantedhim to be the one to make the first move.

"Right, then," he said finally. "I'm off."

"Yeah," I said, adjusting the blankets, wondering if I could stroke them seductively enough for him to get the idea that it would be more than okay to stay.

"Eh," he said, and marched determinedly up the stairs.

With a defeated sigh, I pulled the covers over my head and tried to sleep.

It's never easy to sleep in a strange place. Add to that a restless ghost and some serious s.e.xual frustration, and it was nearly impossible. I spent a lot of the night listening to the mantel clock ticking softly, wondering if I should creep upstairs and quietly slip into Sebastian's bed. If nothing else, being snuggled up to him would be warmer. More importantly, I'd be spared the image of Benjamin's pale face pressed against the gla.s.s window and the occasional rattle as he tried the doork.n.o.b. The wind sounded very frustrated as it moaned through the gables.

Man, this house was freaky. I hoped Sebastian got it cheap.

Which made me think of the Vatican agent who claimed to be his real estate agent. I didn't think I'd impressed upon Sebastian the seriousness of his situation. He seemed pretty blase about having a Witch hunter after him. Of course, the man had a murderous ghost for a roommate.

As though on cue, Benjamin rapped his knuckles on the window again, making me twitch. I'd be a nervous wreck if I lived here. It made me wonder if Sebastian had many lovers stay over. I mean, how did you explain the ghost roomie to a mundane? Or did they usually have some kind of signal system on the nights Sebastian wanted to bring someone back to his place? Benjamin didn't seem very tolerant ofwomen in general. I had no idea what happened with Vivian, but it didn't seem good that she'd died in bed.

Benjamin tried the doork.n.o.b again, and I put the pillow over my head. Maybe sleeping in the dead woman's room was better than this.

Honestly, I'd rather be sleeping with Sebastian.

I wished I'd been more forward. It's not like I'd never been the aggressor in a relations.h.i.+p before, but, other than my previous vampire, I tended to bag the weaker members of the herd. The sick, slow ones.

Okay, it wasn't that bad, but Mercury Crossing wasn't exactly happy hunting grounds for alpha males.

The kinds of guys who came to my shop fell under the cla.s.sification of safe, even for Madison, which I'd discovered produced more than its fair share of SNAGs, otherwise known as "sensitive New Age guys."

In fact, the majority of the men I dated were more than safe, they were feminists; they respected my G.o.ddessness. Which was all well and good, but I'd gotten out of the habit of dealing with a man like Sebastian.

I'd forgotten how complicated things could get. Especially since Sebastian sincerely intrigued me. I wanted to know more about him. How was it he came to have power over Benjamin? Why could he walk around in the sun? Was he really a thousand years old? Was he ever married? Who was he before?

How did he die?

My interest gave him power over me. If I wasn't so fascinated, I would be able to think more clearly.

I'd be able to control the direction of the relations.h.i.+p better. As it was, I watched the flickering shadows of the firelight elongate the cracks on his ceiling, trying not to be bothered by the insistent tapping on the window.

Above me, I heard the floorboards creak. Sebastian was awake. Would he come down? Should I pretend to be asleep? Act more frightened of Benjamin than I was? I seriously considered playing the helpless female and cowering in the corner-maybe even whimpering-but I couldn't do it. I didn't want Sebastian to lose respect for me. Not even if it meant getting into his bed.

HowI got into his bed that first time really mattered to me.

Man, I was in deep. Or I needed to get some serious sleep. Probably both.

I heard the toilet flush, and more creaking boards. d.a.m.n. Sebastian hadn't been thinking about me at all, just getting up for a midnight p.i.s.s.

After ruminating on that depressing thought for a moment, I fell asleep.

I woke up to the smell of frying bacon. I absolutely adored that smell. It was such a f.u.c.king shame I was a vegetarian.

Sebastian looked even more gorgeous in the morning. When I let myself into his kitchen, I found him busily chopping up red peppers, his back to me. And what a beautiful, broad back it was. I could inspect every inch of his muscled frame because he had no s.h.i.+rt. The only thing he wore was a pair of light cottonpajama bottoms covered with cartoon pictures of cherry-red Volkswagen Bugs. The radio was on and tuned to a country station. Sebastian hummed along to Johnny Cash as he washed mushrooms in the sink.

Man, but he was cute. I had this crazy desire to tickle him. I snuck closer as quietly as I could; Johnny helped cover the sounds of my bare feet on the linoleum. I was within striking range when he turned to toss the veggies into a frying pan, and the sun highlighted a nasty scar that ran from his shoulder blade to his b.u.t.t. I must have made some noise, because he turned to face me. We were inches apart. Which is how I came to be staring at the second, even uglier scar near his sternum.

"Holy Mother, Sebastian," I said, touching the rough skin just under his heart, "at some point you were, like, Swiss cheese."

Absently, his fingers rested lightly on mine, as though protecting the wound. "Alas, 'twas the killing blow."

I looked up, startled. "You were killed?"

He gave me a you-silly grin and put a finger on my chin as though to chide me. "That would be the part before my reanimation."

"Well, yeah, I mean, I knew youdied . It's just that, I guess I thought, you know, another vampire was involved."

"No." His jaw muscle twitched, as though this were some kind of bone of contention for him.

"Not at all?"

"Not at all." He turned away from me, back to the frying pan. Pulling a spatula from a drawer under the counter, he stirred the vegetables. The pleasant odor of onion and peppers filled the air.

Clearly there was something about this I wasn't getting-something important, something that bothered Sebastian. Frowning at his back for a moment, I tried to puzzle it out. I didn't know that much about the Awakening or whatever vampires called the moment they woke up dead, but I knew Parrish's story.

He'd been out on some English highway robbing a coach when one of his intended victims tried to make a meal out of him. Parrish said he'd have died except that, in a moment of fear-inspired chutzpah, he bit her back. She'd been impressed and took him under her wing.

Truth was, vampires were relatively rare. I had no idea if Parrish's story was typical or not. He made me believe it was, but then, he had that whole charm/glamour thing going on generally. h.e.l.l, he'd made me believe he was a nice guy for a while, too, and that had turned out to be a lie.

So no vampire had been involved in Sebastian's reanimation. How did that work? I supposed there had to be a first, but even if Sebastian was as old as he claimed to be, he didn't give off ubermaster vibes.

But then, what did I really know about it? Although he had sort of implied he was Dracula earlier...

Ugh. I needed coffee if I was going to think this hard. So I gave up. Slipping my hands onto Sebastian's shoulders, I leaned around him to look at the saute.

"Smells good," I offered, by way of an apology for whatever had so clearly distressed him. "I hope youreggs are organic," I teased, giving him a playful poke in the ribs.

He laughed. "Free range, nest laid. Only the best for you, darling."

And without even thinking about it, he leaned down to kiss me. I think it was meant to be a friendly sort of playful peck on the cheek, but I turned into it with my mouth open, ready with a witty retort. Which I think had been going to be the stunningly clever "Yeah, right," but instead it came out a smooshed "Yum."

His arms slipped over my shoulders, and I let my hands do what they'd ached to do since the moment I saw his naked skin. My fingertips discovered strong muscles and a few more scars and that oh-so-slender waist and a firm, tight- Then he broke the kiss.

"Oh,now what?" I said, digging my fingernails into the cotton of his pajama bottoms, just to let him know I wasn't letting go without a fight.

His eyes registered a bit of surprise, then a wolfish smile spread across his face. "I just thought I'd better turn off the stove."

Even I had to admit that was probably a good idea. "Okay," I allowed, "but hurry back."

Reaching around me, he clicked the gas off. I pressed myself closer and raked my fingernails over his ribs, just to make the job harder. "Knock it off," he said half-seriously. "You're going to get us killed."

Of course an admonishment like that just encouraged my misbehavior. I kissed his chest and ran my hands down the length of his back, slowly. I let my fingers caress the shape of him, taking in muscle and bone like a blind woman exploring a statue. My hands paused when I reached the drawstrings of his pajama bottoms, and I looked into his eyes. Sebastian stared back intently. Sunlight reflected an amber starburst that encircled his pupils.Witch's eyes , I thought. Then,No, a wolf's .

His body had gone preternaturally still, as though he'd held his breath in antic.i.p.ation and simply forgotten to start again. I started to ask him what was wrong when I saw them. His fangs had descended.

Well. At least I knew he was in the mood.

Stretching up on my tiptoes, I kissed him again. I let my tongue slide across the sharp tips of his fangs, purposefully cutting myself just a little. Blood mingled in our mouths.

Thatgot him moving again.

Sebastian's arms encircled my waist, suddenly, crus.h.i.+ngly. With his superhuman strength, he lifted me up, closer to him. I loved the power and strength of his arms as they enveloped me. The fingers that reached under my s.h.i.+rt were rough and calloused from hard work.

I threw my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and started nibbling at his ear. He smelled like breakfast; the scent of onions and peppers clung to his hair. He tasted of salt. Despite myself, my stomach growled.

He let out a little predatory chuckle and murmured into my shoulder: "That's supposed to be my line." I s.h.i.+vered but returned my attention to his earlobe. I was distracted again when he started walking.

When he used my back to push open the kitchen door, I stopped my ministrations entirely. "Where are you taking me?"

"You have your choice, my darling," he said. I noticed that, although he carried me in a very awkward position, he didn't strain at all. His breath wasn't even short. "The couch or the bedroom."

"Which one's closer?"