Kissed by a Vampire. Caridad Pineiro
stop fighting this. Allow yourself to enjoy it,” she said against the side of his face, slipping her hands through his short-cropped hair. Enjoying the sleekness of the strands on her fingers.
“Enjoy it? Do all your men enjoy it?” Alex cupped her buttocks and pressed her ever tighter, caught up in the spell of her power. Groaning as she moved her hips back and forth across his erection, but even as he did so, he battled the need pulling at him. Fought against her control.
It wasn’t real, he told himself.
She wasn’t real. She was a demon. A vampire. Or maybe he was crazy. Maybe he was insane, because vampires did not exist.
“This is empty. Dead,” he said and yanked away from her, clearly surprising her as the power holding him in its grasp vanished like a soap bubble in the wind.
She stared at him, her face reflecting a myriad of emotions.
Bewilderment.
Anger.
Yearning.
The last startled him, but he masked his own turbulent feelings as she asked, “Who are you?”
“Alex Garcia,” he said, so befuddled by her that he failed to provide the alias he used when on assignment. He cautiously held his hand out in introduction, almost afraid of touching her once again.
She glanced at his hand, seemingly as wary, then finally took hold as she replied, “Stacia.”
“Stacia. No last name?”
She shook her head. “No last name.”
“Like Madonna and Cher. Very eighties of you,” he said, dragging up some humor in the hopes of dispelling the rather uncomfortable moment they were sharing.
She chuckled at his jest and shook her head, then glanced up at him, obviously intrigued. Just as he was fascinated on various levels: the dying agent who had imagined the demon’s kiss and needed to know the truth about that night and the man who crazily found her infinitely beautiful and sexy.
“Would you like to go somewhere more quiet? Somewhere we can talk?”
A hesitant but beguiling smile came to her lips. “I’d like that very much.”
Chapter 5
The shop—an eclectic hole-in-the-wall offering tapas, wine, coffee and pastries—was a short walk away from Lincoln Drive on the fringe of Española Way.
They had been silent as they strolled toward the historic district. His hand rode at the small of her back. The pressure of it was light, although she felt it as strongly as if she were chained to him.
At the shop he held the door for her and she entered. With a quick greeting to the waiter, Alex ushered her toward a table for two at the back, close to a brick wall and beside the plate-glass windows that made up the exterior wall of the establishment. He offered her the seat where her back would be exposed, not that it mattered to her. With her powers she could sense danger coming.
It clearly made a difference to him, she thought, watching as he eased into the chair opposite her with the wall at his back.
“You come here often?” Before he could answer, a waiter approached and offered them menus, then left.
“I meet my clients here on occasion,” he said, and was about to pick up the menu but paused and narrowed his gaze. “If I’m willing to accept that you’re a vam—”
“I am even though I sense you still do not truly believe,” Stacia replied, able to read the doubts swirling in his mind. Although she didn’t know why, she wanted to shock him. Shake away the seeming calm he was exhibiting outwardly. “I eat food on occasion. People a lot more frequently.”
His color paled a bit beneath the olive tones of his skin, but other than that, there was nothing to give away his reaction. “Do you mind if I choose, then? The food, that is.”
Stacia chuckled, admiring his bravado. In other circumstances, she would understand that real bravery didn’t rest beneath the surface, but in his case she knew differently. He was a man who didn’t run from danger, which could explain his reaction to her.
“Please do while I scope out a possible dessert,” she said, coquettishly glancing around the room, wishing to provoke his calm about her vampire state.
Alex had no doubt she was seriously trying to discomfit him, but he refused to buy into her game. He had already had a taste of the unusual and inexplicable power of which she seemed capable, so her actions now were more like those of a cat toying with a mouse.
He didn’t much care for her games.
Still, he remained captivated while recognizing that such attraction might not necessarily be good for him. Even if he refused to believe that she was a vampire, he couldn’t deny that she seemed to possess powers he could not immediately explain.
After the waiter returned to the table, Alex placed an order for some cheeses, an assortment of tapas and a bottle of red wine. The wine arrived well before the food, and after the waiter poured it, Stacia picked up her glass and offered a toast.
“To friends in common,” she said, before taking a sip.
Alex swigged down a healthy amount and nodded. “I’m assuming you mean Diana and Ryder.”
“I do, but Diana was more than a friend to you, wasn’t she?”
Alex met her gaze full-on and answered truthfully because he sensed that she would be able discern a lie. “We were lovers back in college. And you?”
“Not lovers yet, but I keep trying,” she said with a wicked grin that created havoc with his innards and had him chuckling at her cojones. He’d always had a thing for women with brass.
“So why are you here in Miami, then? Manhattan seems like a better location to accomplish that objective.”
She made a moue with her mouth, swirled the wine around and averted her gaze by developing an intense interest in the fingers of ruby-red wine along the edges of the glass. “Diana and Ryder aren’t the kind for threesomes. Besides, things got … tedious in New York.”
Tedious? he wondered. The last word he would use to describe anything involving Diana Reyes, his FBI agent ex-lover, was tedious. It made him wonder what had really driven Stacia from Manhattan. Something radical, if he accepted that she was a vampire of intense power. Not that he did.
He was about to press her on the comment, but the waiter returned with their order and placed the various tapas in the center of the table. Alex invited Stacia to sample the dishes, but she demurred.
“You first, please. It’s really not what satisfies an elder like me,” she admitted, even while taking another sip of the wine, which had him wondering if vampires could get drunk. Of course, that had him wondering why he was even considering such a thing as the existence of vampires.
“Was it you that night? In New York?” he asked, deciding to press for anything more concrete to substantiate her claims and satisfy his own desire to find out what had really happened that night.
His hand was resting on the tabletop, and she covered it with hers and softly said, “What do you think?”
Before he could answer, another rush of unnatural power swept over him, filling his body with need and his brain with images—vivid, almost-real memories of that night.
Her memories.
He sucked in a breath, battling the visions. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck from the effort until she whispered softly and her words echoed in his head.
Let me in, Alex. Don’t fight it. Let me in.
He relented. The rush of her thoughts pummeled his mind, invading it, but her emotions rushed in, as well.
Her rage as she entered the