A Venetian Vampire. Michele Hauf
Especially those involving a beautiful woman.
* * *
Many hours after her visit to case the art house, Kyler Cole again left the building, but this time, on the sly.
Nabbing the Nécessaire Imperial egg had been too easy. So easy, in fact, that Kyler kept rubbing her palm over the black nylon backpack in which she’d placed the egg to reassure herself she’d actually done it. She had snuck into the Cannaregio Casa d’Aste and absconded with a nineteenth-century artifact that was worth millions. Go, girl!
And why had she, a thief who had only ever stolen to survive, taken on such a task? Because hidden within the egg was a spell that promised eternity, and that would give her freedom from worry and fear.
It had been a harrowing adventure—and entirely new for her—but well worth the risk. Her body hummed and tittered as she walked swiftly through a dark alleyway and toward the buzz of a crowd mingling at an outdoor bar near the Grand Canal’s sparkling waters. The Venetian nightlife bubbled with laughter and music from a live acoustic band. The air was rife with smells of salty seawater, fried seafood and sweet spices. Her mood compelled her toward the celebration.
Kyler’s toes barely hit the ground, and she propelled herself so lightly she thought someone might see her lift off from the pavement and fly at any moment. But she remained grounded by keeping one eye out for the local police, whom, she had noted earlier, dressed in gorgeous black-and-white uniforms and, with the addition of crisp, clean white gloves, looked like fashion models. Yes, she had a wandering eye for a well-dressed man.
She’d not tripped any alarms while in the auction house. The security had been lax. As well, she’d spied an open window on the second floor. She avoided the risk of setting off the alarms on the first floor, and a leap had allowed her entrance. Such skills she possessed! And once perched upon the windowsill, an interior scan had assured her no cameras were in the room.
If her luck continued to play well, no one would discover the theft until the final inventory preceding tomorrow night’s auction. She intended to leave Venice as soon as she got the call for the handoff, which she expected sometime tomorrow. The man she’d stolen the egg for would arrange for someone to meet her here in Venice to take it off her hands, but she didn’t have the details yet.
Right now, she could use a glass of wine, perhaps even champagne. Yes, a celebration was due! It had been a long time since she’d felt so elated. So ready to embrace the possibilities life now offered her. And some well-deserved merriment would wipe the tarnish from the crime, yes? She’d committed petty theft before. A few swiped cosmetics when she was a teenager, and the obligatory bottle of wine from the liquor store while her friends distracted the cashier. Stupid stuff. Last year, she’d upped it to food and pharmaceuticals when caring for her dying mother. Funds had been low. She hadn’t had any other choice.
The crime she’d committed this evening felt...not so terrible, now that it had been accomplished. What was contained within the egg would give a certain man the reassurance he needed—for her, as well.
She insinuated herself into the crowd of partiers milling about an ivy-draped patio and eyed the open-air bar. A few bar stools were empty, so...why not? Sliding onto a stool, she kept the backpack slung over a shoulder.
“Prosecco,” she told the bartender, and the bearded drink-jockey winked before turning to pour her a goblet.
She didn’t speak Italian, so she was thankful that a word here or there served to get by in this country. Born and raised in Iowa, her first trip overseas had been six months earlier. And she hadn’t looked back since.
“Celebrating?”
Kyler took in the side profile of the man who’d asked her the question in English. Chiseled cheekbone and a thick black brow. A blade of a nose and the hint of stubble darkening his upper lip. His hair was cut short, hugging a perfectly shaped skull, and was the same inky color as hers. She’d taken hers out of the ponytail after exiting the auction house. It was one of her best assets, and she now swung the thick mane over a shoulder as her sensual instincts screamed for her to get the guy’s attention—and keep it.
“Yes. I’ve had a good day.” She sipped the chilled prosecco. Beaming from the high of her accomplishment, she tilted her glass toward him.
He tipped his glass against the thin crystal. “My wine won’t match your bubbly, but I toast you all the same. To good days.”
“Most definitely. I feel great. Life could not be better at this moment.”
“Ah? I feel your enthusiasm. It is written on your face and in your movements.” His eyes glinted from a flash that carried from the overhead swag of Christmassy strands of white lights. And his European accent? Kyler felt the deep tones melt about her heart. “You visiting the city or a resident?”
“Just visiting.”
Her leg bobbed beneath the bar, and she cautioned her sudden nervousness. Nix that. She wasn’t nervous; she was exhilarated. And talking to a sexy stranger only heightened that amazing sensation.
Would it be ridiculous to consider a celebratory roll between the sheets? Not at all. She deserved a handsome man kissing her, whispering sweet nothings to her, tasting her...
“You?” she asked with a perkiness that felt false. She was trying not to lean too close to him. He might see her drool. Not that she’d ever drool. Oh, mercy, his voice.
“I live in the city,” he said, “but not year-round. Just arrived in Venice for a few days’ visit, actually.”
“Me, too. I’m here for a few days, that is. Might try to do some sightseeing in the morning.”
“You haven’t been yet?”
“Uh...nope.” She sipped again. Gotta watch what she said. She concentrated on the man’s gorgeous blue eyes. Wow. They were unreal in color, and he looked directly at her. His intense scrutiny of her lit a fire in her core, and she straightened her shoulders, which lifted her breasts. Attention from an attractive man? Go, Kyler.
“Forgive my manners. An introduction is necessary. I’m Dante D’Arcangelo.”
Really? If that wasn’t a sexy name, Kyler didn’t know what was. And the man certainly did resemble a delicious dark angel. Mmm...
He waited for her to respond.
“Oh, right. Me. Kyler Cole.” She shook his proffered hand, and at the sudden, scintillating, electric shimmer that shot through her fingers and up her arm, she tugged away and gasped. “Oh.” And then, as she settled into the realization of what the man who sat beside her was, she repeated her exclamation in a more sensual tone. “Oh.”
That shimmery feeling that had raced over her skin? It occurred only when one vampire touched another. Now she was definitely on board with a hookup. Because really, she hadn’t met many others like her in the few months she had been vampire.
“Oh, indeed,” he echoed in an equally sensual tone.
He turned on the bar stool to face her with his body, his knee hugging her thigh. Enchantment twinkled in his eyes as he took her in with undisguised wonder. It was as though he had discovered a diamond sitting among common pebbles. Kyler could eat up his attention for breakfast, dinner and supper.
“A like soul,” he said. “Refreshing to find another here in Venice. Shall we toast to one another?”
“Absolutely.”
Kyler had a tendency to trust most people, but a sudden moment of uncertainty emerged. To have walked straight up to another vampire like this? It was weird. Or possibly coincidence. Had to be coincidence. He’d already been sitting at the bar when she had arrived. Wasn’t like he’d been following her.
She sighed and sucked in her lower lip as she tapped a fingernail against the goblet stem. He seemed harmless. Too handsome, for sure. A man as sexy as he was would not be by himself. Not for long, at least. And yet the appeal of him being vampire could