Victor Page 12

  "Shhh," I warned her as I eased the kitchen door open and we crept up the back stairs to the bedrooms.

  "You don't want your family to know you have a girl in your room?" she teased.

  "It's not that," I whispered on a rough burst of laughter. "I just don't want to wake up Elaina and Reason. They need their sleep; it's not too long until finals. But you know that."

  "Last week in May," she confirmed.

  With my bedroom door closed quietly behind us, and the moonlight slanting through the window, I rubbed my hands back through my spiky hair and started making apologies. "We haven't had a chance to properly furnish the place yet."

  She looked around the bare room, a double bed against one wall and a rough wooden worktable braced against the opposite one. Her gaze found its way back to mine.

  "I did warn you."

  "It's fine," she said with a soft smile, and glided toward the bed. Stretching out on the white sheets, she tucked a pillow behind her neck and flung her arms loosely over her head. She looked beautiful in the moonlight that spilled across her young curves. She looked beautiful on my bed and my barbs screamed at me to join her, to mark her with my rune. And right now I was dangerous to her so I kept my distance.

  There was nowhere to sit in the room, so I hitched my butt on the worktable, pulling off my gloves and dropping them beside me then shrugging out of the hoodie and leaving it with the gloves.

  Of course, I wanted to learn more about the beautiful young woman lying on my bed. And more than anything, I wanted to ask her what had happened between her and her ex boyfriend. But I was afraid she'd just avoid my questions. And that wouldn't get us anywhere. So I was deliberately provoking when I asked, "Why did Nils dump you?"

  Her smooth brow puckered into a hurt little frown. "Nils didn't dump me," she answered. "I broke up with him."

  "What happened?" I asked, holding my breath and hoping she didn't lock me out.

  She shook her head and sighed. "It was prom night."

  "Did you wear a long dress?" I asked, bracing my hands beside me on the table.

  "Uh-huh," she murmured.

  "And did you dance?"

  "A little."

  "I bet you were beautiful," I said.

  "My dress was pretty," she admitted with a distant smile. "And I had a good time right up until the end."

  "Then what happened?"

  She was silent for so long that I was afraid she wasn't going to answer. Finally, she spoke. "I'd been going out with Nils for two years. And after the most…intimate evening of my life, I found out he'd been with several other girls while he was supposed to be my boyfriend."

  That was hard to believe. How could a guy be dumb enough to risk losing Samantha? My stomach knotted with unexpected emotion, although I don't know if it was a reaction to Nils' betrayal…or if I just hated the idea of her being intimate with someone else. "How did you find out?"

  "Our phones were the same," she sighed. "Identical. We even had the same protective cases. I picked his up by mistake and saw something I wasn't meant to see."

  "What happened next?" I asked.

  "I confronted him about it."

  "Did he try to lie?"

  "No," she answered. "But he didn't apologize either. And he didn't seem to think he'd done anything wrong. He said beautiful girls were always throwing themselves at him and a guy would be stupid to turn them down."

  "I think he was stupid to risk losing you," I shot back a little more sharply than I'd meant to.

  She studied me curiously for several seconds, like she was surprised at my reaction. "He said he didn't want to break up with me. That he loved me more than any of those other girls. He even said that all the other girls would never matter. No matter what happened—no matter who he was with—he'd always love me best. I'd always be Number One and he even wanted to marry me one day."

  I snorted softly. "Who could turn down an offer like that?" I asked.

  "Me," she answered with another sigh. "I deleted my contact information from his phone and told him to get in touch with whoever was Number Two."

  I nodded. "Good lass."

  "But I'm afraid he was right."

  I frowned across the room at her. "About what?"

  She pressed her lips together and her lovely eyes filled with tears. "That a good looking guy would be crazy to turn down all those pretty girls."

  Pushing away from the table, I walked across the room and dropped onto the bed beside her, reaching out to thread my fingers through her hair. "Then you can call me crazy. Because if I had you, I'd never even notice anyone else. I never notice that other girls were pretty, in the first place. The only person I'd see was you. The only person I'd think of was you, even when we weren't together."

  "Those are nice words," she said, giving me a skeptical look. "But I'm not convinced."

  I just gazed down at her, knowing it would take a while before she would trust again. In the meantime, I'd just have to be patient. I stretched out beside her on the bed and pushed out my own sigh as I stared up at the ceiling.

  "Why did you go to that party tonight?" she asked in a low whisper.

  "To see you," I answered. "To hear your voice. Just to be near you."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know," I admitted. "Obviously, I'm attracted to you. But it's more than that. It's like you're some kind of missing piece."

  "Missing piece of what?" she giggled softly.

  I shrugged, knowing that what I was going to say next was going to sound dumb. "A piece of my soul."

  "Oh man," she giggled again. "You really are a charmer, aren't you?"

  A low rumble of laughter lifted my chest. "I've been called that before," I admitted.

  "By any chance, were you in bed at the time?"

  "That is the best place for charming," I pointed out. "But…I'm being honest Sam."

  She rolled over and crossed her arms on my chest as she gazed down at me. "Well, how'd you like to charm the pants off me?"

  And that was a tempting offer. I smiled as I reached up to tuck her thick fall of hair behind her ear while my hackles throbbed like they were going to explode. "Nothing would make me happier…but I told you before that I was crazy."

  One of her eyebrows lifted in an elegant arch. "Is that a no?"

  "That's an ask-me-again-when-you're-sober," I told her.

  Pushing away from me, she flopped over onto her back and covered a yawn with her hand. "I guess I deserved that."

  I rolled toward her and lifted up on one elbow, sliding my hand over her hip into her waist. My thumb stroked across the soft fabric of her dress. "I'm not rejecting you, Sam. But you need to be completely sober when you decide that you like me enough for something like that."

  "Okay," she murmured although I'm not sure she was convinced I had her best interests in mind. Looking at my hand on her hip, she reached down and ran her fingers over my silver wristband, causing my barbs to surface suddenly.

  I pulled away with a jerk and closed my eyes, fighting back the surge of venom that threatened to spill out over the bed sheets. When I opened them again, Sam had averted her gaze. I could tell she thought I'd rejected her…again. And I didn't know what I could say that would convince her otherwise. "Do you have an alarm on your phone?" I finally asked.

  "Yes."

  "Why don't you set it to go off in eight hours? You should be sober by then." Okay, I was joking but only because there was no way I'd risk getting intimate with her when my barbs were screaming for me to mark her. If that hadn't been an issue, things would have been different. I was a twenty-year-old male, after all. But my suggestion worked because she starting giggling again.

  "Do the wristbands mean something special to you?" she laughed softly. "Are they an heirloom or something? They look really old."

  "They're old," I admitted quietly. "And special. And meant to be shared with the lass I love."

  "Really? How does that work?"

  "I wear one and the girl wears the other one,
creating a symbolic bond."

  "Like a promise ring?"

  "I suppose so," I answered. "Would you like to try one on?"

  And she seemed happy when the silver band was pushed halfway up her forearm. "Your wrists are pretty thick," she pointed out.

  "Aye," I answered. "Nay, don't take it off. Not yet."

  "So, what did you do before you came to the United States?" she asked, tucking her hands beneath her cheek and closing her eyes. "Tell me about your life in England."

  "I worked for my family," I told her. "We were…in the construction business."

  "Was that fun?"

  "The job was interesting and rewarding. But most of our contracts were public works and the politics could be tricky."

  "Tricky?" she echoed on another big yawn.

  "I spent a lot of time convincing the…city leaders to keep the work with my family. Several of them had daughters and they wanted me to…" I searched for a modern expression that would take the place of "courting". "They wanted me to show their daughters a good time."

  "I bet they were thinking a smart, successful guy like you would make a good son-in-law."

  I nodded. "And the ones who didn't have daughters had wives who wanted to have a good time too."

  "And of course you couldn't say no," she snickered.

  "It wasn't like Nils," I murmured.

  "So you didn't have any fun at all," she teased and blinked up at me before closing her eyes again.

  "I wouldn't say that. It wasn't all work."

  "But?" she prompted me.

  "I did it for my family. And I'd do I again if I had to. But my life was less than ideal. Because I was always acting. I could never be myself. "

  "Mmm?" she murmured.

  "It wasn't so bad back then because there was no one I was interested in. It would be different now. It would be harder."

  I watched her face as her breathing fell into a regular rhythm.

  "But I'm not like Nils," I whispered, leaning close and touching my lips to her forehead. "And I'd never willingly betray you."

  But she was asleep by then so I wasn't sure how much she'd heard. And for the next several hours, I lay beside her, watching her sleep, only dropping off when the sun finally started to come up.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was Samantha's laughter that finally woke me. I opened my eyes and jerked into a sitting position when I found my bed empty, dropping my feet over the side. I could hear the light music of Sam's laughter echoing in the kitchen downstairs so I got up and got going. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I raked a hand through my hair, brushed my teeth and hurried downstairs to join her, all the while hoping someone had made her some coffee.

  I needn't have worried because someone had. Walker had taken care of her, fixing her a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast.

  I stopped in the doorway and propped my shoulder against the jamb, feeling like I was intruding as Samantha grinned up at Walker. "Good morning," I murmured when she finally turned her head in my direction and found my eyes.

  She checked the time on her phone and pretended she was shocked. "Ten o'clock? What did you do last night, Victor?"

  I sauntered into the room and helped myself to a cup of coffee. "Evidently, I had too much fun. What about you? I see you've met Walker."

  "Yes I have met Walker, and his breakfast is the only thing standing between me and the worst hangover of my life," she laughed, giving Walker a grateful look that didn't exactly sit well with me. I like Walker a lot. But I didn't want Samantha smiling at him like that.

  "Always happy to help," Walker answered smoothly, carrying his cup to the table we'd brought home in his truck and taking a seat beside her.

  "Where are the others?" I asked him.

  "Elaina and Reason gave Chaos a lift to meet Torrie," he explained.

  Samantha lifted her eyebrow and caught me in her gaze. "I've been telling Walker how you rescued me from that party last night."

  "And at the club again later on," I reminded her, taking a chair across from her.

  "But you guys had met before, right?" Walker asked.

  "Once or twice," Sam admitted.

  "You're Torrie's sister," I said. "You're almost family. And you needed a little rescuing because the punch was spiked."

  She made a face. "Don't remind me," she moaned and quickly changed the subject. "So Walker tells me you guys are planning a dinner party next weekend."

  "That's right," I answered. "It's a housewarming. Havoc will be preparing a feast. You have to come."

  "I'd love to," she answered. "In fact, Walker said I could be his date for the auspicious event."

  "He did?" I choked and struggled for the next breath. "You're…going with Walker?"

  Walker's cup halted halfway to his mouth and he gave me an uncertain look. "That's okay, isn't it?"

  "Why should Victor mind?" Sam cut in with a melancholy smile. "Didn't you say he was taking a girl from Pine Grove?"

  Walker just kept on looking uncertain and I just kept on not breathing as I realized the trap I'd set for myself. As far as MacKenzie's brother knew, Samantha was just an acquaintance I'd helped out when she'd had too much to drink. And I'd told Walker to bring a date to the housewarming. What's more, I'd told him I was taking my girlfriend from Pine Grove. What the hell was I thinking when I'd invited Alexa? What the hell? But I forced an easy smile on my face and answered, "That's right."

  "So…we're good?" Walker asked tentatively.

  "We're good," I answered with a reassuring smile. But beneath the table, my fist was clenched so tightly that my fingernails were cutting through the skin on my palms. I ignored the blood leaking from my fist and said, "Crazy good."

  But everything was not good. Walker was tall, nice looking and insanely intelligent. MacKenzie had told us he was studying organic chemistry at this crazy good school in California where you have to be really smart to get in. And I was still learning to read! So yeah, he was a much better match for Samantha than I would ever be.

  And while I sat there brooding in stunned silence, Samantha got to her feet and thanked Walker for the breakfast. For the next ten seconds I sat staring at the wristband she'd left on the kitchen table as she gathered her purse and Walker took her out to her car. Then I pulled myself together and raced for the kitchen door, passing Walker on his way back to the house.

  "Sam," I called out and caught up to her at her car. "Are you going to be okay driving home?"

  The morning sunlight filtered down through the tree's new growth of green leaves. "Yeah," she answered with a faint smile. "Thanks for asking."

  "Listen, Sam. About Alexa. We're not really—"

  "Not really what?" she asked, spinning around to face me. "Because if you're going to tell me you're just pretending to like Alexa, it's not going to sound better to me. In fact, it's going to have the exact opposite effect."

  So, what could I say? I just stood there watching her get farther and farther away from me with every mistake I made.

  "And hey, I'm sorry about last night," she said flatly and opened the car door.

  I cocked my head. "Sorry?"

  She slid into the driver's seat. "Sorry about the way I threw myself at you. I wouldn't have done that if I'd known about your girlfriend."

  "I know," I answered quietly. "And you wouldn't have done it if the punch hadn't been spiked."

  "That's right," she confirmed.

  I leaned back on the open car door and looked down at her. "Sam?"

  "What?" she asked, fitting the key into the ignition.

  "There's just one thing I don't really understand about all this."

  "What's that?" she asked a little impatiently.

  "All along, you've claimed that you don't want to go out with good looking guys."

  "That's right."

  "So why are you going out with Walker?"

  Her eyes widened on me. "Walker isn't good looking."

  "Sure he is," I started then stopped myself w
hen I realized my gargoyle senses were affecting the way Walker looked to me. "He…isn't?"

  "Not if you're a girl," she said, giving me an out.

  "Uh, yeah. I guess that makes a difference."

  "But he's really nice and really funny."

  "I know."

  "Goodbye, Victor. Thanks for saving me from myself."

  "Anytime," I murmured, closing the car door and watching her drive away as a heavy weight of darkness dragged on my heart. Samantha was going to be Walker's date at the housewarming. And I was stuck with Alexa. And I had no one to blame but myself.

  But I buried those dark feelings of desolation and I threw myself into my work on the house. And by Saturday night, we were ready for the house warming—though only barely. It had taken us a while to find a white refrigerator to match the old stove in the kitchen; it seemed like everything was stainless steel. But once that was out of the way, we splurged on the dining room set, buying it at an upscale furniture store. Then we'd scoured the thrift stores for more furniture, finding a nice old credenza made of curly maple and a set of china with a blue and gold nautical pattern that Havoc was going to love.

  And while we were looking for things to fill up the large dining room, we picked up a leather couch and chairs for the living room that looked brand new. And an upholstered chair that looked less new but had a lot of character. Time had softened the sheen on the aristocratic gold brocade and it looked comfortable in the corner of my attic bedroom.

  The pack arrived about mid-afternoon and went to work in the kitchen. Chaos and I did a little more housecleaning while Walker left to pick up Sam, then we grabbed some quick showers. I'd just pulled on a black shirt when I heard a vehicle in the driveway, and I fastened the buttons on my way down the foyer stairs, thinking it was probably Walker returning with Sam. Hungry to see her, I ripped open the door.

  But it wasn't Walker's black truck that was parked in the driveway. And as my gaze focused on Alexa's blue SUV, I realized I hadn't thought about her all week except for the times I'd wished I'd never called her my girlfriend. Other than that, not once had she crossed my mind. Yet I started thinking about marrying her as soon as she bounced out of her car and started walking toward me on her black stilettos. And that seemed a little bizarre…even to me.