Possession Read online

  Confessions in the dark?

  “Going soft on me now?” she teased.

  That smirk again. “Quite the opposite.”

  “Naughty.”

  Julian looked down at her fingers, tracing the veins. “I’m glad you took the gloves off.” His finger trailed from the valley between her ring and middle-finger knuckles up to her shoulder, his eyes following the course to her neck. “You’ve been turning every head tonight, you know that? No, I bet you haven’t even realized…”

  “Julian…”

  “I don’t want to turn you over to him,” he added with conviction.

  It was said quietly, and he was still looking over her shoulder, but there was no doubt he was serious about what he said. There was just a question of why?

  “Then don’t,” she whispered.

  His gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips and back again. She waited, holding her breath. She didn’t know what he was going to do, or what she wanted him to do. He leaned in those few inches, pausing just shy of kissing her to give her a chance to bolt. She was still frozen.

  He closed the gap, his kiss gentle and achingly slow, full of longing. He was holding himself back for her benefit. She could feel it in the tremor of his hand resting on that knob of her spine at the base of her neck, resisting pulling her in and kissing her senseless. It was a short kiss, maybe thirty seconds, but it left her more aroused than their last session of practically mauling each other. They were touching foreheads, breathing in each other’s breath, though only one of them needed to.

  “Wanna get out of here?” he murmured.

  “We should see the night through,” she replied, her voice kind.

  Julian nodded and sat up straight, turning his attention forward. Catherine placed her left hand on his right where it sat on the armrest, surprising him. He looked at her, but she was facing the stage. Letting out a breath, he tried to relax and catch up with the narration below.

  ***

  The performance had been well received and people were leaving in a good mood. Those without other plans were heading for the party.

  Julian and Catherine walked side-by-side, his hand on her back, like he was testing how close he could get to wrapping his arm around her waist. His thumb kept brushing the bare skin between the laces of her dress, making her tingle.

  The meeting space had been transformed into an elegant ballroom, with champagne fountains and hors d’oeuvres no one could pronounce. A three-piece band was already playing at one end of the room. A few couples were swaying to the music.

  “Do you actually know anyone here?” she whispered.

  “Don’t know. We just walked in the door, love,” he replied, teasing.

  Julian steered her over to the refreshments.

  “Champagne?”

  “I’m underage,” she hissed.

  “Not in England, pet. Drinkin’ age is eighteen.” He handed her a flute. “Sip it slowly. Most birds like the stuff.”

  “I’m more interested in dinner,” Catherine grumbled. Not that I can fit anything in this dress.

  Julian winked and dropped a strawberry in her glass. She would’ve stuck her tongue out at him, if they’d been somewhere less formal.

  She followed him around the room as he surveyed the crowd. People noticed them--the man with the glow-in-the-dark bleached hair and the girl that had to be at least ten years his junior. At least, that’s what she assumed they must have been thinking. She would have fit more appropriately as someone’s daughter, here, not a handsome man’s date.

  Natural predator that he was, Julian both assessed every being in the room and held their attention. They couldn’t take their eyes off the great hunter and his trophy.

  “We’ve made a circuit around the room; can we go now?” she asked.

  He looked at her, surprised. “Not enjoying yourself?”

  “Not when everyone keeps staring at us!” she whispered back.

  He sidled closer. “Hottest couple in the room, love, why wouldn’t they?”

  “Hello, ego? More like they’re gossiping that I’m your trophy date.”

  “Really…”

  “Julian, even with your immortality, you’re obviously at least ten years older than me. People say things.”

  He took her hand. “Well, let’s give ‘em something to talk about. Dance with me.”

  “Oh, no…” But he was already dragging her over to the band to request a song. The bandleader nodded and counted off a Latin mambo beat. “A Dean Martin song?”

  “I know it’s not a rhythm you’re used to, but follow my lead, hmm?”

  “Jul--” Catherine didn’t get a chance to say more before he twirled her into his arms and started dancing.

  When marimba rhythms start to play

  Dance with me, make me sway…

  The crowd parted naturally for them, forming a circle to watch.

  Like a flower bending in the breeze

  Bend with me, sway with ease…

  Okay, so he was brilliant at this, somehow managing to make her look good in the process. She lost awareness of everything but looking into his eyes and obeying the commands of his body. She hadn’t even stepped on her dress yet.

  …Only you have the magic technique

  When we sway I go weak

  Others were joining them on the floor, now, not to be outdone, but they were on the edge of awareness. For a cold body, Julian was giving off a lot of heat, and she knew his hands would be wandering right now if they were somewhere else, or if she’d been wearing less.

  …Make me thrill as only you know how

  Sway me smooth, sway me now

  The chorus and refrain repeated as the song came to a close. He dipped her, quickly, pulling her back up against him. She was breathing heavily.

  Exertion, or lust?

  “I think I need a drink,” she said breathlessly.

  Julian turned for the bar. “Can’t have you wilting, can we?” he purred.

  She could still feel eyes on her back, only now they were daggers of envy. There was a saying about men who could dance…

  “Here you are, kitten.” He handed her a glass of clear liquid.

  “What is it?” she asked suspiciously.

  He chuckled. “Spring water. Afraid I’ll get you drunk?”

  She sipped the water. “The thought had occurred.”

  He leaned in to say, “Sweetheart, if I wanted to, I could seduce you stone cold sober, and you know it.”

  Her jaw dropped at his audacity. “As if!”

  He shrugged, unperturbed by her refusal. “Protest all you like… I’m going to go grab a smoke.”

  Ha! Definitely won’t be kissing you now! she thought as he walked away.

  At least she could nibble while he was gone.

  Sitting alone, the party was pretty boring. Catherine checked her lipstick and made sure she didn’t have food in her teeth. She people-watched. The few couples that looked happy together made her nostalgic for her family, the days when her parents and grandfather were still alive, and every holiday meant a gathering for feasting and love.

  Grandma was stuck in the past most of the time, now, thinking it was ten years ago, or more. That pang for home hit again.

  ***

  She smiled as soon as she saw him walking back, but he’d seen her true expression. He’d been watching a while, unnoticed, and knew she wasn’t happy. But that brave face was back up.

  “Miss me?” he quipped.

  She smiled back. “A little. I don’t know anyone here, so I got bored.”

  “We could dance some more, if you like?”

  “Okay.”

  The band’s repertoire was mainly songs you could sway to, so they casually joined the rest on the dance floor.

  ***

  Her chin on his shoulder, their bodies gently swaying to the music, she could almost pretend that they were two normal people on a normal date.

  “You’ve gone quiet,” he remarked.

 
“Just being in the moment. Only two weeks left. This night has been a bit different than I expected.”

  “Hm. How so?”

  “I expected more testing, I guess. Minding my P’s and Q’s like Mrs. Crumb taught me.”

  “Ah. Not really my kind of scene anymore. I don’t typically run my business like a tyrant, hard as that may be to believe,” he said.

  “Could’ve fooled me with that whole drill sergeant routine. So, what…you’re normally a girl’s friend?” she teased.

  “Depends on the girl. That bint that bit you, for instance--she had her certain charms, but I couldn’t stand her bloody voice for more than two minutes. Plenty of the demons are only attractive to their own species. And then, there was you--little slip of a human with a fire in her eye. No whining or crying for Mum…spirit of a fighter, despite being more than a bit bookish.” He waggled his brows and smiled rakishly. “Then you turned out gorgeous.”

  Catherine shook her head. “Can’t take the man out of the demon,” she sighed.

  “’Sum of all our parts’. Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Close enough. What is your demon like?”

  “’S not like that. It’s not a voice in my head. The demon heightens feelings, instincts…your cravings change, and you have no conscience, but it’s still your head doin’ the thinkin’…only as a fledge, not so much with the cerebral. You have to get past the hunger, most of the time. A vampire is just as unique and complicated as the human they were before. It’s what makes turning so unpredictable. You get a pansy, or you get Lorcan. Roll of the soddin’ dice.”

  “Have you ever turned someone?”

  “Minions, you know, easy labor…mostly just found ‘em, though, picked up the new ones. They’re easily controlled, but dumb as blocks. Usually, I had to do practically everything myself if I wanted it done right. There’s a lesson in that.”

  “Self-reliance. Got it,” she said, nodding.

  “You’re completely bored, aren’t you?”

  “No! Well, not with talking to you…”

  “But the energy left this dive half an hour ago. Come on, kitten.” Julian grabbed her hand and led her toward the exit.

  The doors shut, cutting off the music, and Catherine found herself backed to a pole and being kissed.

  “Better?” he asked, once he finally released her to breathe.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Holy mama…

  He smiled knowingly and took her hand again. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The trek back to the entrance took considerably longer than it should have, with Julian stopping every couple minutes to kiss her senseless again. They stopped at the coatroom to get her cloak. She bundled up while he called their driver on a cell. The door was opened for her once the limo pulled up, though Julian stopped to talk to the driver before getting in next to her.

  He immediately slid her closer. “Mmm, where were we?” he murmured, zeroing in on her lips again.

  She dodged the kiss. “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere more private,” he said, kissing her neck instead.

  “Not the house?”

  “Not yet…”

  “Julian…”

  He sighed and pulled back to look at her.

  “The contract says--”

  “I don’t care about the bleedin’ contract--”

  “Well, they’re my consequences!”

  Sure, she didn’t plan on being here in the morning, but she still needed to know where his motives fell. If he planned to use her and lose her, this wasn’t going any further than making out.

  “Catherine, I already said I don’t want to turn you over--”

  “That isn’t the same as ‘won’t’. He’ll figure it out, and then it’ll be worse on me because he can’t take it out on you. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  He glanced away. “You’re not.”

  “Betray my trust, and you’re the first one I’m coming after when I’m dead,” she promised.

  “Bossy thing, aren’t you?”

  “I’m serious, Julian! God, you can be such a jerk.” Catherine shifted to the far side of interior.

  He grabbed her by the hips and yanked her back. “Now, hold on!” He grabbed her wrists and held them to her lap so she’d stop fighting him. “If you’d let me finish… I don’t want to see you with Lorcan, and I won’t force you to go. I like you.”

  “You like me.”

  “Like being challenged by you, dancing with you, snogging…yeah, I like you.”

  “Well, that’s something…”

  He let go of her wrist and cupped her cheek. “It really is…”

  The kiss was its own dance.

  Catherine had enough of an answer to relax and meet him halfway.

  What naturally happened after this would come in its own time tonight.

  ["Sway" is the English version of "¿Quién será?", a 1953 mambo song by Mexican composer and bandleader Pablo Beltrán Ruiz. In 1954 the English lyrics were written by Norman Gimbel and recorded by Dean Martin.]

  Chapter 11

  Halloween night continued…

  It was a surprise when the limousine came to a stop. Catherine broke away from the kiss and looked out the windows.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  The chauffeur opened the door. “Sir?”

  Julian sighed and slid out. A bellhop was already on his way out to retrieve any luggage. When she didn’t immediately follow him out, Julian bent down to see what was delaying her.

  “It’s just going to come off again,” he said, referring to the lipstick she was reapplying.

  “It’ll last as long as we’re in public.” She dropped the tube and her compact in her purse and extended a free hand to the vampire. “Geeze, your hand is already freezing!”

  “It is a touch chilly out here,” he mused. “Shall we?”

  Wow.

  It was a magnificent hotel. Her satchel and a garment bag were loaded onto a trolley. They hurried inside out of the cold. She tried not to gawk. She glanced around while Julian signed something at the front desk and got the key.

  “You have the Royal Suite, Mr. Holbrook. Enjoy your stay.”

  Holbrook?

  “Is that your real name?” she whispered.

  Julian wiggled his brows. “Could be. Come on, pet. The lift is this way.”

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “Several times. Celia and I had supper here quite often during the early ‘20s. Still looks good.”

  “By ‘supper’, you mean…?”

  “We ate here, love. Interpret that as you will.”

  The elevator finally reached their floor. Catherine got another surprise.

  He smiled smugly. “The very best. We’re lucky it was empty.”

  The attendant unlocked the room and opened the door for them. He carried the bags somewhere inside.

  Julian strolled in like he owned the place. She was stunned. The entrance hall had elegant columns and antique furniture. That was just the beginning, of course. There was an enormous drawing room, with cream walls, sofas the color of holly berries, and a grand piano. The rug and other upholstery had hints of gold to complement the red and rich wood tones. Big windows with red velvet drapes looked out onto the city. A crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling. There were houses smaller than this, and this was just a sitting room! It even had a fireplace.

  He tipped the young man and closed the door, then watched her explore.

  “Good Lord, there’s even a dining room! Julian, this is too much! I can’t even fathom how much this place costs just for one night.”

  “It’s not the most expensive room in the world. Just enjoy it. There’s even butler service. Come, you haven’t seen the rest, yet.” He took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

  A king-size canopy bed had a red coverlet to continue the theme. It was another large room, with sumptuously plush carpeting and more elegant wood furniture. The bathroom had two sin
ks, a huge tub, and separate shower. The fixtures were all in gold. The rest was marble.

  “I’m afraid to touch anything,” she muttered.

  Julian came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Bath big enough for two. Bet they even included bubbles,” he murmured, his breath tickling her ear.

  She broke free and strode back to the drawing room, stopping at one of the windows. London glittered below, the lights like jewels.

  “Are you hungry? We can order room service, put our feet up…get cozy…”

  “You didn’t need to do all…this.”

  He sighed and walked over to her. “If it makes you feel better, I cashed in a favor. We’re not breaking the bank.” He reached around from behind and unclasped her cloak, his fingertips trailing along her skin as he drew it away. “There’s a beautiful room with a beautiful view and excellent company waiting right here to be enjoyed, love. Just relax.” He dropped the cloak on the floor. His hands slowly trailed up her arms. “Live in the moment.”

  She relaxed into his chest as he lips trailed kisses down the side of her neck, her eyes fluttering shut when his arms wrapped around her waist. He could bite and drain her right now and she’d be helpless to stop him. She almost wished he would, instead of whispering complements against her skin in that hypnotic voice of his.

  “Trying to seduce me?” she whispered.

  “Is it working?” he replied.

  She could hear the grin in his voice. She smiled, still facing the window. “Little bit.”

  His teeth grazed the tendon on the side of her neck. “Hmm…what else can I do to convince you?”

  She turned in his arms and kissed him. He hummed in pleasure and pressed her against the window. The corset was making it hard to take deep breaths, adding to the dizzying effect of making out with someone who didn’t need air. She took in great gulps of oxygen as he kissed her neck again. His hands were roaming up and down her sides and back, mapping her curves. Each time they slid back up, his thumbs skimmed the underside of her breasts.

  Her hands roamed under his tuxedo jacket and loosened the tie around his neck. She knew what he looked like, of course, from walking in on him that day, fresh from the shower, but her fingers itched to feel his skin. Learn if he was soft or coarse. She grabbed his face and brought his mouth back to hers for an intense kiss, then broke away to take his hand. His brow furrowed in confusion until he figured out she was leading him to the bedroom.