Blood Calls. Caridad Pineiro
family in the rubble. He had found them a day later—dead beneath the remains of their home.
As Diego had helped Simon bury them, he had seen grief like Esperanza’s in the man’s eyes. It had only made Diego regret making him a keeper, and had reinforced his decision never to use his vampire’s kiss again.
He shook off the unpleasant thoughts, comforted by the fact that he had left Simon ensconced in his favorite chair, watching a History Channel special on the San Francisco earthquake, and muttering about his own survival.
Diego pushed through the door of the auction gallery, but stopped short as he collided with a woman in his haste to see the Manet. He reached out to keep her from falling.
“I’m sorry,” he began, but smiled when he recognized Ramona. “I didn’t expect you here, little one.”
Ramona gazed up at Diego, thinking he looked as elegant and polished as ever. He had grabbed her arms to steady her, and she in turn had placed her hand on the sleeve of his overcoat. The expensive cashmere felt smooth against her fingers, in sharp contrast to the itchy wool of her own peacoat.
She pulled away from him, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket, both to keep from touching him again and because the chill of the late fall night had bitten into her body.
“I came to see the auction, too,” she explained, walking toward a row with two empty chairs. But then she stopped short. “I’m sorry. I just assumed you were here alone, but if you’re with—”
“I’m with you,” he said with a smile, and confirmed her choice of seating.
Ramona told herself he was just being kind, much as he always was, but it was tough not to imagine how it might be if it were different. If he saw her not as an eccentric, reclusive painter always living on the edge, but as an attractive woman.
Although how could he? she wondered, gazing down at the coat that was a bit too big on her, thanks to all the weight she had recently lost. Even before her illness, his actions had been nothing other than brotherly. She’d always admired his faithfulness to the woman in his life.
When she sat, he paused to remove his overcoat, and revealed yet another fine silk suit and shirt. The top two buttons of the shirt were open, exposing the curly, light brown hairs on his chest. She wondered whether that hair would be crisp beneath her fingers.
“Ramona?” Diego said, and she realized that he had asked her a question.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Do you want to take your coat off?”
Cold lingered in her body from the autumn night, so she shook her head. “Not just yet.”
He sat beside her, his size and strength striking her again, but she had little time to think about him as the auctioneer came to the podium.
She leaned forward, eagerly watching as a covered painting was brought in and placed on the easel. A hush fell over the room, replaced by murmurs when the painting was unveiled and the auctioneer named the opening price. Fifteen million dollars.
She held her breath, examining the painting from afar. She told herself it must be the original, but once again her artist’s eye could pick out the differences. Why hadn’t anyone at the auction house seen that this wasn’t the authentic masterpiece? Why didn’t any of the prospective buyers realize it?
As the bidding for the painting climbed ever higher, she shifted closer and closer to the edge of the chair, her arms wrapped tight around her to ward off the frost filling her body. When the bidding ended at thirty million, she gasped, shocked by both the price and the fact that it seemed as if van Winter was going to get away with his deception.
Diego’s hand lit on her back, and she glanced over her shoulder and met his concerned gaze.
“Estas bien?” he asked, rubbing his hand against her shoulder in a soothing gesture.
“I’m fine. I just can’t imagine…” She wanted to say that she couldn’t believe that no one had realized the fraud, not even Diego, who was usually so astute.
“It is a lot, but one day you may command similar prices.”
“Sure. When I’m dead,” she muttered, and Diego chuckled, not realizing the irony behind her statement.
“Do not worry, little one. Your day will come.”
She forced a smile and fixed her attention back up at the front of the room. As had happened for the first painting, the next two were sold swiftly.
All three of her paintings fetched a grand total of nearly one hundred and twenty million dollars. She wanted to stand up and shout to everyone that they had been deceived, but who would believe her?
This was one of the city’s better known auction houses, selling off paintings for one of the world’s richest men, and she was no one.
Merely the struggling unknown who had unwittingly helped him carry out the deception.
A sick feeling twisted her gut, and the chill that hadn’t left her all night made her numb inside, weak, she realized as she tried to stand, and found that her legs were a little wobbly. The anxiety and the late hour had taken their toll on her.
“Ramona?” Diego questioned, but she couldn’t answer as spots began to dance before her eyes.
She had pushed herself way too much, she realized as Diego slipped his arm around her waist, providing stability.
“Let me get you home,” he said, and she didn’t argue, lacking the strength to make the trip on her own.
Besides, she needed to conserve her strength for what would be a tough road ahead—proving that van Winter had sold forgeries, and even more importantly, clearing her name of any involvement in the crime.
Chapter 2
So maybe he was wrong to be taking advantage of the fact that she was feeling unwell, Diego thought. But it was the first opportunity to be close to her since Esperanza’s death. He had noticed Ramona well before that, but being an honorable man, unlike he had been in his human life, he had banked his attraction to her.
Even now a part of him said this wasn’t right. She was human and he was undead. He could offer nothing, but he couldn’t deny that he liked the weight of her in his arms as he held her on his lap the entire cab ride home.
She murmured a protest when they arrived at her loft and he insisted on carrying her upstairs. With his vampire powers, he barely registered her weight. Actually, even with just his human strength he could have easily managed. She was so petite. Thinner than she had been a few months ago, he belatedly realized.
It brought out protective feelings in him that should have sent up major warning bells. The last woman he had felt this way toward was Esperanza, and look how that had ended. With death both times.
But that didn’t stop him from depositing Ramona on the sofa in the living area of the large loft, and getting her settled. Despite her continued reassurances that she was fine, he insisted she rest while he prepared some tea, since he noticed yet again that her hands were ice cold.
Way too cold, combined with way too pale…
Diego opened up his vampire senses, but found Ramona’s energy to be totally human and a little frail. The hunter in him recognized she was easy prey, but he tamped down such a thought.
He hadn’t fed from an unwilling human for quite some time. He wasn’t about to begin now.
Although the look that she gave him as he approached with the tea hinted that Ramona might not be so unwilling.
Handing her the mug with the honey-laced concoction, he sat on the coffee table before her.
“Gracias, Diego. You didn’t have to do this.” She cradled the cup with her long fingers, her actions graceful as she brought it to her full lips and took a delicate sip.