Beauty Bites (29 page)

But I try not to lie to myself, and I wasn’t going to start now. It felt right—maybe because it
was
right? I didn’t like the idea, but in all honesty I had to consider it.

I put aside thoughts of getting rid of him and considered lasting happiness instead. A relationship.

A fairy tale come true.

Not. Possible.

I was missing something. Couples adjust to each other but we were far too different. Dissimilar at a basic level. Different to the point of being discordant.

But what if, despite that, we were meant for each other?

That did scare me. If, despite being true opposites, we were stuck with each other anyway, we’d rub each other raw. Which, considering the last half hour, wasn’t unpleasant…

Smack me with a
lutfisk
. Emotional fire in the bedroom most often translated to bloody strife outside it. Like social, vivacious Twyla and her self-contained, masterful Spartan. Like brash, confident Elena and her householder Bo…

No, they all seemed pretty happy, now that I thought about it.

So why couldn’t I have that? Why couldn’t I find happiness with Ric?

My stomach swooped. Why not?

Warmth filled me, surprising with its strength. I’d always pictured myself as a doctor, smiling at patients, discussing treatments. But even more clearly I could see a future with Ric—us sitting together reading, doing dishes, discussing our work over a cup of tea.

Maybe we could try it. Try…a relationship. I turned to Ric, opened my mouth to tell him my thoughts.

He was on his back, snoring softly, out like a light.

Dammit, this was important. I put my hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. Got distracted by velvety skin over rock. Mmm, nice. I forgot to shake, caressed instead—

A shadow filtered into the edge of my vision. I sucked in air. I swear I did not scream.

I did squeak a little.

Ric’s eyes flew open. He sat up so fast the covers flew. “What the hell? Aiden?”

The shadow inside the room was a
man
. I shrieked at that, a little girly yip, and grasped covers to my chest. Shrinking violet modesty and shrieking at shadows. Damn it, if this was what having a steady guy made of me, I’d have to rethink my relationship decision.

Beyond Ric, the shadow solidified. “Sorry to interrupt.” The laconic voice had a pained amusement in it. “But this couldn’t wait.”

“What’s so fucking important—?”

“The painting is gone.”

Chapter Twenty

“
What
?” Ric shot to his feet. “When? Where? How?”

The shadowman Aiden was wearing a black leather coat and looking bulkier than I remembered. “When, about an hour ago. Where, from where you told me to put it, the safe in your office. And how? It was an inside job. No new scents.”

“Damn. We need to find it.” Ric started throwing on clothes, boxers, torn shirt and one sock. “Let’s get back to the office—”

“Problem. Sunrise is minutes away. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

Ric collapsed, half-dressed, on the bed. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I was distracted.”

“I can tell.” Aiden’s eyebrows waggled suggestively.

“You.” Ric cracked an eye. “You’re cruising for a fist to the jaw.”

“You can try.” Then black eyebrows lowered and Aiden’s lips compressed. “Although it’s no more than I deserve for losing the painting.”

“Don’t. You didn’t lose it, it was stolen from us. The question is, by who?”

“Someone better than us.”

“Aiden, stop it. There’s no one better than you, not at tracking, not at intelligence gathering. So, an inside job?”

“No break-in, the safe wasn’t blown and then there’s the timing—almost the minute I returned. Someone was waiting at Holiday Buzz. Watching.”

“Someone we trusted has betrayed us.” Ric made a low, terrible sound.

A cell phone rang, muffled. I startled.

“It’s mine.” Ric snatched up his pants and extracted his phone. “Holiday.”

The voice on the other end sounded tinny, mechanical. Ric’s jaw worked hard; he didn’t like what the caller was saying at all.

I exchanged a glance with Aiden. Any softness had gone from his face, leaving only the cool ruthless shadowman.

Ric’s jaw abruptly stopped working. His eyes flicked to me.

Suddenly his face drained of color. He snapped, “Out of the question. This conversation is over.” He ended the call with an abrupt clip of his thumb.

“The thief?” Aiden asked.

“Yes. Using a voice disguiser, unfortunately.” Ric put on the pants then thrust the phone into his pocket.

“What did he want?” Wrapping myself in the sheet, I stood to put a hand on Ric’s arm. He was trembling with rage.

“Money. And other considerations to be named. Delivered at three this afternoon.” Ric’s nostrils were white and the tips of his canines protruded. “Whoever this asshole is, he’s got some nerve.”

“Steady, Ric.” Aiden slid away from the window, where dawn was creeping through the cracks between the vertical blinds. “At least we know the painting is safe. The question is, what do we do now?”

“I can go out in the sun,” I said. “Maybe I can deliver the money.”

Ric spun on me. “Not. Happening.”

I stepped back at his vehemence. “But I thought this painting is important. That it’s some sort of leverage against Nosferatu.”

“You figured that out? You’re quick. Most of the time I like that.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Which is his way of saying yes,” Aiden drawled. He leaned, arms crossed, against the door. “The portrait is…
was
his insurance that Nosferatu won’t attack his household or Holiday Buzz. We have to get it back.”

“But not by paying any damned ransom at three in the damned afternoon.” Ric glared—at me.

“
Sorry
. Only trying to help.”

“Help.” Ric whipped toward Aiden. “Can you trace that phone call?”

“Not from here.”

“Damn it.”

“Ric, what’s really wrong?” I touched his shoulder. His muscles were as tense as steel cables. “Is it the sunlight? Do you need to, um, go to ground or something?”

“No.” He made an obvious effort to relax. “I just hate feeling this exposed and not being able to do something about it.”

“Maybe we’re asking the wrong question.” Aiden started pacing, lean, springy. “Not who stole the painting, but who could get into the safe?”

“That’s good,” Ric said. “Nosferatu. He has some East European techies on his team.”

“His lieutenant Giuseppe Marrone,” Aiden said. “Marrone’s a tech.”

“Unless it’s that Ancient One guy,” I said.

Sudden, horrified silence.

“What?” I said. “He’s got techies on his team too, doesn’t he? And he knows everything, from what I can tell.”

Ric shuddered. “If the Ancient One is against us, we’re as good as dead.”

“Oh. Okay.” I held up one placating hand. “Not Elias.”

“Camille,” Aiden said. “She doesn’t have technical skills of her own, but she could seduce someone to crack the safe.”

“Seduce…?” I snapped my fingers. “And an inside job. Chicken Little.”

“Who?” Ric said.

“Sorry, I meant Charles Little. That cock’s comb hairstyle and red wattle neck remind me of a chicken… Ric, the point is, he looked awfully taken with Camille at yesterday’s meeting.”

“Little wants Holiday Buzz,” Aiden said. “He’s made no secret of that.”

Ric’s face hardened. “And he knows the combination to the safe.”

Aiden nodded. “That’s it, then. The instant the sun goes down, I’m going after the bastard.”

“We go together,” Ric growled.

“You’re forgetting something,” I said. “He wants the money at three p.m.. If he doesn’t get it, he might destroy the picture, and there goes your leverage.”

Ric glared—again, at
me
. “I won’t let him back me into a corner.”

I didn’t understand the glare. I was only trying to help, and it was a reasonable solution. “Why are you so stubborn about this? If it’s the money—”

“It’s not the money.”

“But—”

“Synnove, that’s enough!”

I drew myself up to my full height and glared coldly. “May I remind you, you can’t stop me?”

He stepped in until we were toe to toe. “Oh, can’t I?”

“Yikes,” Aiden said. “Get a room.”

I jerked away from Ric, my face hot but I couldn’t help smiling a little at him. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

“Yes. We are.” Ric’s tense expression eased. “Synnove, I’m sorry. I’m worried, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Me too.”

“Still here,” Aiden said. “And gooey making-up eyes are as bad as frustrated sex yelling. Can we nip all of this in the bud? Why don’t you call Little? Let him know we’re on to him.”

I got the impression that Aiden knew what really had Ric going nuclear. That with his vampire hearing, he’d heard what Little had said in that first phone call.

Ric smiled down at me. “Good idea.”

He dug in his pocket for his phone, thumbed up a number and pressed it to his ear. “Charles. I know you have the portrait. I want it back. Let’s talk terms.”

“It doesn’t matter that you know,” Charles Little said into Ric’s ear after a shocked pause. “I still want Synnove Byornsson here at three.”

Ric clutched the phone so hard the plastic
cricked
. When, as a child, he’d sneaked into that wagon headed east, he’d been trying for a better life. Now he was rich and successful. But his life really hadn’t been better, not until an aggravating, luscious female had walked into it.

A few hundred years of sex with both human and vampire females had given him a fine taste for it. He’d thought the body rush of pleasure it gave him was the epitome of delight. Delight, ha. Even kissing Synnove went far beyond mere delight. Orgasms with her made his whole brain detonate with sunshine and his blood fizz with joy.

In two sentences, all of that was threatened.

“No.” Ric snarled the word. That a man he’d trusted would betray him this way—especially for mere greed—made him shake with anger. “Not negotiable.”

“Every time you say that, the price goes up,” Little said. “I want a half million dollars—and control of Holiday Buzz. Majority stock transferred to me at three p.m.. Today. And Synnove will deliver the authorizations in person.”

Ric’s chest tightened. All the times Nosferatu and his sadistic trainers had threatened Ric’s life, he hadn’t felt this desperate.

“Is she there with you now?” Charles said, softly menacing. “Let’s hear what she has to say. Why don’t you put her on the line?”

“
No
.” Icicles stabbed Ric’s heart. Charles Little had just made himself Enemy Number One. And this had ramped up to war.

Ric summoned his predator’s instincts and his businessman’s brain, neither far from him. The ice burned away in a tumult of angry fire. “You’re not talking to her. And she’s not going anywhere.”

“That’s too bad,” Little said. “Because if I don’t get what I want, I have another interested party. Mr. Nosferatu.”

That cracked Ric’s anger. “Damn it, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

“And I can’t believe it took me so long.” He cackled. Chicken Little indeed.

“I’ll get you your stock,” Ric spat. “Hell, you can have the company. But you may not have—” he cut a glance at his beautiful blonde with the too-sharp eyes, “—any person under my protection.”

Now to move the sale along. “I’ll set up the stock transfer and the cash.” There. That would remind Little what he wanted that Ric would give. “Electronic, contingent on my ratification. We’ll meet at the office, tonight at nine. You bring the portrait and the receiving account numbers. When I get the picture, I’ll complete the transfers.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot? Camille told me what you are, Holiday—well, I knew your looks couldn’t be natural. I’m not insane enough to meet you after dark. The girl is not a negotiable item, nor is the time. I’ll have to contact my other interested party.”

“Little, wait—” The connection cut. Ric felt like he was breathing fire. “He hung up on me.” He stared at his phone. He’d lost control of the situation, like the time he’d had to abandon Eloise.

His anger chilled, leaving him scared.

“What did he want?” Synnove asked.

He fell into her clear blue eyes. Reaching out with a thumb to caress her healthy pink skin he breathed in her light clean scent. She had outer beauty, yes. But it was a reflection of her inner beauty, her inner strength.

His heart rate slowed. She was a strong, beautiful woman, not a helpless little girl. “He wanted what we figured. Money. Stock. Control of the company.”

“There’s more,” she said. “What else?”

She was with him and almost ahead of him. He’d have his work cut out for him, keeping up with her. He wanted a lifetime of it. “He wants it through an agent.” He bit off the words in a way that hopefully made her see the topic was closed. But to be sure he followed up with something to distract her. “I need access to a computer to set up the transfers. Do you have one here at the cabin?”