Once Bitten. Clare Willis
shook his head. “Alas, no. It is a lovely city, but I’m here on business.”
I felt a not-so-little stab of disappointment. “Where do you live?” I asked, hoping he’d say somewhere close, but with the sinking feeling that the answer would be Paris, Tangier, or Burkina Faso.
Suleiman interrupted before Eric could answer, leaning forward to speak to both Kimberley and me. “Eric and Lilith are two of the people I had in mind for the ad campaign. I just love the way both of them look, don’t you?”
Well, one of them, yes, indeed.
“Lilith is a model, so she already has experience,” Suleiman said. Lilith gave me an “I told you so” smile.
“Show them your teeth, both of you,” Suleiman said.
Lilith drew back her upper lip and I let out a gasp. She had perfect little fangs, about a half-inch long, the color blended exactly with the rest of her teeth. They looked as real as the ones on the tiger in the San Francisco Zoo.
Suleiman said, “We did those for her about a year ago. I don’t know where Eric got his, but they’re even better. Show her yours, Eric.”
Eric’s eyes glinted in the candlelight. “Maybe later,” he said, and smiled without opening his lips.
I suddenly felt the need to change the subject. “So, Eric, where do you know Suleiman and Moravia from?”
“Oh, Sully and I are friends from way back. But let’s talk about you,” Eric said, moving toward me again. I leaned back. I wasn’t ready yet for another whiff of his magic spell.
“Sully tells me you’re doing the advertising for Macabre Factor. What are some of the other companies you’re working with?”
I picked some of HFB’s “household name” brands. “Strevichnaya vodka? You’ve seen those big billboards with the naked lady in the bottle, like a ship in a bottle?” Eric nodded, gazing at me with those translucent eyes. “Um, Comet toothpaste, you guys probably use a lot of toothpaste, we do their advertising. Tangento, they’re a big company, have a lot of subsidiaries you might know, Adonis athletic wear, Venus lingerie. Unicorn Pulp and Paper, they make, uh, paper products.”
Oh my God, I’m babbling.
Eric smiled. “Not at all. I am aware of all these companies. Very high profile.”
I wondered about his saying “not at all,” an obvious non sequitur. It almost seemed like he had read my mind.
“You must be very good at what you do,” Eric continued, “but you don’t seem like the type.”
“And what ‘type’ would that be?” I replied. I felt like he was toying with me, but I didn’t want him to stop.
“The business type, the nine-to-five type. You seem like an artist to me.”
“Well, I was an actor. Majored in drama in college.”
Eric nodded knowingly. “Yes, an actress, that’s what I would have said. Why did you leave it?”
“The usual three reasons. Food, clothes, and a roof over my head.”
Eric put his hand on mine. His touch was ice cold, but he had just put down a frosty glass. “Would you care to dance?” he asked.
Although I’d had years of physical training for the theater, my dancing was still strictly character actor. I thought up a quick excuse. “I don’t think so. The sledgehammer is not my favorite instrument.”
Eric laughed. “Not there,” he answered. “We insiders know a much better place.”
Still holding my hand, he helped me stand up. “We’re going to dance,” he announced.
“Have a good time!” Kimberley trilled, like a mother sending her daughter to the prom. Before we walked away I saw her pull her chair closer to Suleiman. I knew I should stay and chat with the clients, but ever since Eric had appeared I didn’t really care about the usual things anymore. Lilith was busy trying to light a cigarette and didn’t acknowledge our departure. We went to the back of the room and through a door with a sign reading MEMBERS ONLY.
The new room was designed like a Victorian opium den. The walls were draped with velvet curtains of indeterminate color. A group of tables, all of them set for two, lined one curtained wall. The rest of the room was divided into curtained-off areas, some open to display couches, although I suppose chaise lounge is the correct term for long sofas with one high back and side. Several couples were dancing to music that could not have been more different from the alligator underbellies. It had a slow hypnotic beat topped by the softly keening sounds of a woman singing in a language I had never heard before.
In front of us a woman with long dark hair danced with her back to another woman. Her head was leaning on her partner’s shoulder, eyes closed, an expression of ecstasy on her face. The other woman swayed in time to the music, stroking the dark-haired woman’s body rhythmically, nuzzling her neck. And all around me was that sweet indefinable odor. I thought I was going to faint. I stumbled and Eric grabbed my arm.
“What do you think?” His voice seemed to come from inside my head.
“I had heard that some of the bars in San Francisco have make-out rooms but this is something else.”
I tried to joke, but I wasn’t feeling very funny. In fact, I couldn’t tell exactly how I was feeling, but I knew I didn’t want it to end. Eric swept me into the circle of dancers. He held me away from him, as if we were in dancing school. His left hand held my arm aloft and his right hand gripped the small of my back, subtly directing me to move with him. Even though I had no idea how to waltz I was doing it, and feeling graceful besides. I realized I’d never danced with a man who really knew how to lead a partner. While we danced he gazed into my eyes, the Mona Lisa smile gracing his lips. The attraction I felt was so intense I wanted to look away, if only to catch my breath, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from him.
The music’s tempo became quicker. With one move Eric pulled me close, simultaneously angling me so that I was pressed against his right hip. His arm tightened around me and I felt each of his fingers separately through the thin silk of my dress. He pressed his cheek against mine and just like that we were doing the tango. His skin was soft and silky, but hard underneath, like marble wrapped in velvet. His breath was cool and dry but had the same rich, heady sweetness that seemed to seep from his pores. His scent was what perfume makers had been trying to capture for thousands of years: the distilled essence of attraction, indefinable but irresistible.
As the music morphed into a mesmerizing Middle Eastern tune, Eric moved me toward one of the curtained-off areas. He lifted me easily and laid me across the couch, and then pulled the curtain closed. He hadn’t released my left hand and now he lifted my arm and licked the inside of my wrist. I literally shivered with pleasure, even though he was barely touching me. I closed my eyes and felt his lips touch my cheek, cold enough to cause me to flinch, but warming almost instantly. His kisses moved lightly across my face to my neck. I breathed in his scent and it flowed through me like a drug, swept away my inhibitions, all my conscious thoughts. His hands slipped under my dress and moved everywhere, bringing the nerves to life all over my body.
“Angela, surrender yourself to me, and I will fulfill all your dreams.” His voice seemed to come from someplace deep inside me. Did he really say that?
“Yes, yes, God, yes…” Did I really say that?
His lips caressed my face, my arms, my neck. I felt his teeth against my skin like tiny shards of glass scraping and burning, but the pain was the same as the pleasure, and my body reached out to receive him. I was overwhelmed by a yearning to be closer to him, to merge with him so that nothing could ever separate us.
Then came a sudden pinch of pain, exquisitely sharp.
Chapter 4
Instinct told me to pull away, but my body wanted something else. It yielded itself up