Demon Can’t Help It (2 page)

Instead she nonchalantly lifted her drink and took a lengthy swallow. She moaned with appreciation, the sound low and deep in her throat. She savored the soda water like it was a fine wine, her eyes closed, her lashes looking impossibly long and dark against her cheeks. Her lips parted once she’d swallowed, looking rosy pink and wet with moisture.

Maksim’s already reacting body managed to react even more, an erection pressing against the unforgiving material of his jeans. His muscles clenched with pure need.

The response maddened him further, especially when she opened her eyes, set down her drink, and regarded him with her usual impassive stare. All bliss disappeared behind a no-nonsense gaze.

“I got in last week.” She took another sip of her drink, again closing her eyes with appreciation.

For a moment, Maksim didn’t understand her words, already forgetting that he’d asked her a question. Of course that was before his raging hard-on and the fantasies of making her look as blissful as the icy soda did.

God, he was actually feeling like he was in competition with a carbonated beverage. Pathetic.

Just then, Maggie’s laugh drew their attention toward her. Ren, Vittorio, and the rest of the band were off the stage, and Ren had come up and captured his wife around the waist, catching her off guard.

“Come outside,” Vittorio said to the women. “We can talk easier without the music.” He gestured toward the speakers now playing recorded Top 40 pop tunes.

They all gathered their drinks and headed out to the sidewalk, where they could chat until the band was finished with their break. Jo followed them, not even looking back.

Maksim stared after her as she disappeared outside, confused and frustrated. What was it about that woman? And how was it she didn’t seem to notice he existed? He was no fool. He knew he was attractive to the opposite sex—sometimes the same sex, too, although that kind of “getting his freak on” didn’t appeal. The point being he knew he was good looking. He’d made that a fact when in the mortal realm.

As if to prove his point, a woman who’d been trying to get his attention all night approached him, blocking his view of the doorway where Jo had just exited.

“Hi,” she greeted him with a wide smile and a flip of her long blond hair. “I was wondering what you are doing after you get off work.”

He didn’t react right away, still mystified by Jo’s lack of reaction. Finally he focused on the woman. She was very pretty, curvy, and soft. And there was no question about the interest clear in her light blue eyes.

Now, Maksim was never one to waste time on futile ventures. He liked challenges, yes. But he wasn’t wasting time chasing someone who didn’t want to get caught.

Okay, this was in fact the first time he could recall meeting someone who didn’t want to get caught, but still he didn’t believe in working too hard. After all, there was always something, if not better, then just as good coming around the corner. And this was plainly one of those moments.

He smiled at the blonde, who practically glowed back at him, thrilled with his attention.

“I’m getting off work around two. Why? What do you have in mind?”

The blonde giggled. “Well, I can think of a few things.”

His smile broadened. “I can, too.” Then he extended his hand. “I’m Maksim.”

She slipped her fingers into his. “Jenna.”

See, he could forget about dark-eyed, dark-haired mortals just as easily as that.

But even as he told himself that, his gaze returned to the doorway that Jo had walked out.

“When did that guy start working here?”

Erika frowned at Jo, then glanced around the street where they stood with the band. “What guy?”

“The bartender.” Jo remembered his name, but she couldn’t even bring herself to say it. For some reason, she felt as if remembering his name would show too much…

Well, just too much.

Erika still frowned.

“I think she means Maksim,” Vittorio supplied even though Jo didn’t realize he’d been listening.

“Oh,” Erika said, her tone not exactly negative, but not exactly amiable, either. “He’s been working here for…” She glanced at Vittorio for an answer.

“A couple months,” he said. “Right after we got married, he started here.”

Jo nodded. She remembered him at Erika and Vittorio’s wedding. He’d looked stunningly handsome in his expensive, designer suit. He’d just screamed money, power, and sex appeal. He still did—even slinging beers.

“I wouldn’t have pegged him as being a bartender for a living,” Jo said. “He seems too…” She couldn’t find that right word.

“High and mighty,” Maggie suggested.

“Yes,” Jo agreed. “That’s it exactly.”

“Oh, he’s definitely not from around here,” Ren said with a enigmatic smile, making Jo realize that everyone was aware of the topic of conversation.

Jo didn’t quite know what Ren meant by his statement or how it tied in to the man’s demeanor. And his accent stated he wasn’t from Louisiana—or even the U.S. She’d been more focused on the fact that he seemed like the type who was waited on—not doing the waiting.

She could easily picture him in one of those ritzy nightclubs, the ones with dress codes and guest lists. Five-star restaurants and yachts with sexy women in bikinis. She certainly didn’t see him working behind a bar in the French Quarter.

So what was he doing here, then?

“Are you interested in him?” Maggie said after everyone had moved on to the subject of whether Drake’s guitar solo in Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me” was too long.

Jo blinked. “Interested in him? Hardly.”

Maggie nodded, seeming to readily accept her words, then she added, “He’s interested in you.”

Jo shook her head. “No, he isn’t.”

“Trust me, he is.” Maggie stated, and Jo couldn’t decide how her friend felt about the observation.

But then, she wasn’t sure what her feelings were, either. Jo wasn’t completely oblivious. She noticed the way the man watched her. She’d noticed it the past times she met him, too. But at the time she’d been too involved in her own issues to give it any thought. And frankly she didn’t have time to think about it now, either.

Plus, Maksim—and at least she didn’t have to pretend she didn’t know his last name because she didn’t—wasn’t the type of man she found attractive.

Okay, that wasn’t strictly true. Maksim Whatever-His-Name-Is was the type of man all woman found attractive. Truthfully, he was probably the most stunningly beautiful man she’d ever seen. Well, one of the most beautiful.

For a moment, her mind returned to her own problems and the mess she left behind in D.C.
But you didn’t leave it all behind, did you?

She shoved those thoughts aside and glanced in the doorway, catching a glimpse of Maksim serving a large, fruity-looking drink to a curvaceous blonde.

So sure, she’d noticed Maksim. He was hard to miss with his unusually pale green eyes that reminded her of peridots. His sexy smile that turned up just slightly at one corner. And his body, tall and lean with broad shoulders and—

All right, she sighed, closing her eyes just briefly, trying to block out the image of him. So she’d noticed him. He was a gorgeous man. But she also knew his type. Along with all that masculine beauty, she knew he had an ego the size of St. Louis Cathedral, and she had no use for that. Absolutely no use.

And in the end, he’d have no use for her, either. She’d learned that firsthand. Again, she told herself not to think about it. She had other things to focus on. Like work and friends and starting a new life. Starting a new life…

A wave of nausea, sudden and intense, hit her, and she looked around, panicked, deciding if she should rush to the restroom.

Calm down. Calm down.
She swallowed several times and the feeling gradually subsided.

Erika appeared at her side. “The guys are going back in for one more set.” She studied Jo. “Are you okay?”

Jo nodded, not quite sure she was ready to speak. She swallowed again, then pulled in a slow, deep breath.

“I’m fine.” She forced a closed-mouth smile.

Erika still watched her, her finely arched brows drawn together with concern.

“Are you sure you want to stay?” she asked.

Jo nodded. “Sure.” She wasn’t ready to be alone with her thoughts at the moment. She’d long ago realized that keeping busy was the best way to avoid things she didn’t want to think about. Busy was good.

“Okay,” Erika said, her voice uncertain. She glanced at Maggie again. Another knowing look shot between them. This time it irritated Jo.

“I’m fine,” she repeated, more firmly, and her friends didn’t say anything. They just followed her back into the dark bar.

A group of partiers boogied on the dance floor. The air was hazy and seemed to glow, smoke lit by neon beer signs. Jo ignored the overwhelming scent of cigarettes mingling with stale beer and headed toward the back of the bar to an empty round high-top table. It was a little quieter away from the stage. And she couldn’t easily see Maksim from this angle. Noticing his eyes and body and smile wasn’t doing her any good.

Men were not a part of her future. She was done.

“So tell me more about the community center,” Maggie said, and Erika leaned forward to hear over the band, who’d started again.

“Well, the center is woefully understaffed,” Jo said, gladly grasping onto the topic of work. “After Katrina, a lot of the employees and volunteers just didn’t return. The building isn’t in great condition, either, but at least it didn’t suffer any major damage. But even with the lack of staff and facilities, there are more kids there than ever.

“And the kids are great. Well, mostly great. There are a few troubled ones, which, given the area, is to be expected. But they are the kids who need this place the most.”

“So will you start looking for staff as soon as you can?” Erika asked.

Jo nodded. “Volunteers, mainly. We just don’t have the money to take on full-time employees. Yet. I’ve been looking into our funding options, what grants I can apply for. Once we know about that, I can start hiring. But my first order of business is coming up with volunteers to help out the kids in our daycare and aftercare programs. We have a lot of kids whose parents can’t afford a lot for daycare. And I need to make them the priority at the moment.”

Maggie smiled. “I think that’s great. And the work seems like something you will love.”

Jo nodded. She did love it. She needed to have that sense of helping others. And she loved working with kids. Seeing kids overcome and flourish even against such unfortunate odds. Nothing felt better.

For a moment her mind wandered again, straying to things she didn’t want to deal with.

“Yep,” Jo said, straightening in her seat, shaking off the sudden sweep of sorrow that filled her. “So St. Ann Community Center will be back on its feet in no time, as long as I can find some volunteers to help me.”

“Can I get you ladies some drinks?” said a voice, deep and velvety and tinged with an exotic-sounding accent, from right beside her. Jo started, clapping a hand to her chest.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling at her reaction as if it pleased him in some way.

Jo felt irritation rise in her chest, replacing the rapid beat of her heart. He probably thought she was affected by his sudden nearness. Because of some sort of uncontrollable desire, rather than genuine surprise.

She stared at him, trying to ignore the scent of him that managed to blot out the other smells of the bar. Something spicy, like burning incense, earthy and very arousing.

She immediately pushed back her stool and stood, making sure her vacated seat was between them.

“Nothing for me,” she managed, then turned to her friends. “I have to run to the restroom.”

She didn’t look back or wait for her friends’ reply as she hurried toward the back of the room and the door labeled
LADIES
.

Once inside, she leaned against the graffiti-scribbled wall, offering messages of “love 4 eva” and “for a good time call” and “New Orleans rocks!” She didn’t pay any attention to the plethora of yearbook-like captions, and instead focused on trying to get her wayward body under control.

She was not attracted to that guy. She wasn’t. He wasn’t her type and while he might be handsome and sexy and even smelled like sex—really good sex—she wasn’t going there. There was just no way in hell. Her life was already too complicated without another self-important, insincere and too-good-looking-for-his-own-good male in it.

And what was she doing thinking about men, period? Hadn’t she sworn off them? Hadn’t she just left D.C. because of a relationship that went horribly wrong?

She let her head fall back against the marker-and pen-scrawled wall. A wave of nausea hit her and she swallowed several times. Anger and disgust also threaten to gag her.

How could she even be attracted to anyone? Not when her life was in complete upheaval, and she was running away from her past. And her lover, who had somehow managed not to mention—and she’d managed not to notice—that he was married.

M
aksim glanced to where Jo had disappeared into the restroom, for the first time feeling just a tad hopeful that she did in fact feel something for him. He couldn’t quite decipher what, but she had reacted, and he was taking that as a good sign.

Damn, when had he ever been the type to settle for any old reaction from a woman? He was used to adoration. Attraction. Full-blown carnal lust. Not a reaction that could range anywhere between tepid interest to overwhelming disgust.

Disgust? Over him? That seemed unlikely. But he wasn’t sure. How irritating.

Instead of analyzing her reaction any further, he turned his attention to her friends, taking this moment to discover a bit more about the mortal who’d somehow become an odd fixation to him. A fixation that was increasing by the minute.

Did he mention he wanted to lick every inch of that woman?

“So did I just hear that your friend is working down here?” He kept the comment casual as he used a rag to wipe down the table. “Didn’t she live somewhere else? Somewhere on the East Coast?”

“Yes, she just moved down here from D.C. about a month ago,” Maggie said.

He noted that Erika frowned at her friend. Oh yeah, Erika wasn’t going to give him any information. Which meant, go little Pollyanna vampire, go.

He smiled widely at Maggie, pouring on the charm. “So she’s living here? Working here?”

Maggie nodded, completely oblivious to Erika’s disapproving look. “Yes, she’s the new director at the community center on Esplanade.”

“That’s great,” he said with a smile designed to reveal nothing.

“I don’t suppose you’d know anyone who’d be willing to volunteer there?” Maggie said, only to be cut off by a sharp shush from Erika.

Maggie frowned at her friend, confusion clear in her eyes.

“Volunteers,” Maksim said slowly, his smile widening. Oh, he’d be willing to volunteer for a thing or two with sexy Miss Jo as his director.

Instead he shrugged. “Not right off the top of my head, but I’ll think about it.”

Maggie smiled. Erika frowned—even more if that was possible.

“So more drinks?”

Both women declined, which gave him no real purpose to hang around. Even though he would have liked to ask more about Jo, he didn’t want to be too obvious. He excused himself and headed back to his prison behind the bar. Although tonight, it didn’t seem quite so bad. Amazing what a new project could do for his outlook.

“What were you thinking?” Erika asked as soon as Maksim stepped back behind the bar.

Maggie blinked at her friend, confused by her question, but more so by the terseness of her tone.

“What?”

“Do you really think he’s the kind of guy we should be asking about volunteers? Who would he know aside from other demons? Are you trying to get some minions from Hell to help Jo with her daycare?”

Maggie grimaced, seeing her point. “I didn’t really think about that. With all the paranormal folks in this city, I sometimes forget the people around us aren’t—well, really people.”

Erika nodded. “I sometimes forget that about ourselves,” then added, “But we shouldn’t be giving him any info about her. He’s very interested in Jo; it’s in the air like cheap, really stinky cologne.” Erika glanced at him. “It’s like he’s scenting, staking claim on her.”

“Maybe he is.” Maggie followed Erika’s gaze, watching Maksim take a drink order from a buxom brunette in a dress that barely covered her equally rounded derriere. Then she added, “That
was
a stupid move. Sorry.”

They were silent for a moment.

Then Erika said, “Do you think she even knows?”

“About us?” Maggie asked, not needing any clarification on who “she” was.

“No, about herself?”

“Oh. I’m not sure,” Maggie said, then considered Jo and her situation. A very surprising situation to say the least. “But I don’t think we can bring it up. We need to wait for her to do that.”

Erika nodded.

Maggie sighed. “I really shouldn’t have said anything to Maksim. I just figured given he had more access to daywalkers than we do, he might know someone. I know he’s a dem—” Maggie’s mouth snapped shut as she noticed Jo standing behind Erika. Erika must have seen the direction of Maggie’s gaze, because she turned to glance over her shoulder.

“Hi,” Jo said, not hiding her curiosity over the subject. “Who are we talking about?”

Jo waited for her friends to explain, finding the small bit she’d overheard quite—peculiar—to say the least.

“We’re talking about Maksim,” Erika stated. “Maggie told him that you were looking for volunteers at the center, and I just didn’t think that was a good idea. I don’t trust him, Jo.”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Maggie said, although she didn’t sound defensive, just contrite. As if she agreed that perhaps he wasn’t terribly trustworthy.

Jo sat back down and gave her friends a comforting smile. “I don’t think you have to worry about sharing that info with him. He doesn’t strike me as the Good Samaritan type anyway.”

He didn’t strike her as the good anything. She fought the urge to look in his direction. Except maybe good in bed, and she knew where that type of guy got a gal.

“That’s true,” Erika agreed, and Maggie nodded.

They all fell quiet as the Impalers started another song, “I Want You To Want Me.”

“So is that what you call us boring people with normal day jobs?” Jo asked suddenly over the chorus.

“Huh?” Maggie asked, and Erika raised an eyebrow in question.

“Daywalkers? Is that musician lingo for us boring people with nine-to-five jobs and regular sleep hours?” Jo said.

“Oh.” Maggie laughed. “Yeah. That’s just a private joke among the band members.”

Jo nodded, then said after a few moments, “And you started to say that Maksim was a deem…A deem what?”

“Oh,” Maggie said, looking decidedly awkward. She glanced over to Erika.

Again with the shared looks, although this time, it almost looked as if they were silently discussing their answer.

“He’s a de—de—” Maggie gave Erika another pained look.

“A demon,” Erika announced. “You know, with the women.” She winced when she was done.

Jo glanced back to the bar, where Maksim stood, hands braced on the countertop, watching her. She wondered why her friends seemed so reluctant to say that.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me. I have no doubt.”

“Girl, this is cracked. Totally cracked.”

Jo finished entering in the last numbers into the community center’s expense database. Then she blinked trying to focus on her daycare director, but impressions of small rows of numbers scrolling down her computer screen still blurred her vision. Even after several more blinks, she still couldn’t see what her daycare director was talking about.

“What’s broken now, Cherise?”

The woman placed a hand on her ample hip and rolled her dark eyes at Jo. “Nothing’s broken! Except this whole teacher situation. Which is cracked!”

Jo sighed, realizing now what had Cherise all worked up. Cherise was the only full-time employee she had, and she was a darned good one, with the energy and patience of three women, but she wasn’t three women, and she needed help.

“I got twenty-eight kids out there, and I can’t do it alone.”

Jo nodded, knowing full well that was the truth. She was amazed Cherise could do as well as she had been.

“I’ll be right out to help,” Jo said, sliding her glasses up and turning back to her computer to save her latest entries. Entries that revealed they were further away from getting another full-time daycare teacher than she’d hoped.

She clicked Save, and the ancient computer hummed and rattled and did this pausing thing that 50 percent of the time resulted in a total freeze-up.

“Mmm, girl, you can’t take on director of this place
and
my assistant. That’s two full-time jobs, and this place isn’t ever gonna get ahead without you trying to get us some funding and finding volunteers and setting up better programs.” Cherise raised an eyebrow after she was finished, as if daring Jo to deny those facts.

“I know,” Jo agreed with a sigh. “But for now, we have to do what we have to do.” She rose, a wave of lightheadedness making her catch herself on the edge of the desk.

“You all right?” Cherise took a step toward her, but Jo raised a hand to stop her.

“I’m fine. Just not getting enough sleep.”

Cherise crossed her arms across her plentiful bosom and made a tsking sound. “Not eatin’ enough, either, if you ask me.”

Jo laughed. “I eat.”

Cherise raised that dark eyebrow that spoke as loudly as the woman herself.

“But I’ll eat more,” Jo said dutifully.

She followed Cherise to the large room they used as the daycare “classroom.” The walls were decorated with flowers and butterflies and bees that Cherise had made herself, probably three or four years ago. The edges were curled, the colors faded, but they were better than nothing. And Jo chose to see the curling as more of a 3-D effect than the signs of age.

She grimaced. Well, she
tried
to see it that way.

At several worn wooden tables, kids between the ages of two and five sat eating their snacks. Well, “sat” made the state of affairs sound orderly and peaceful, when in fact most of the kids squirmed and pushed and chattered away. Very little snack eating seemed to be involved.

Lettie, a woman who had to be eighty-five if she was a day and who was nearly totally deaf stood sentry over the wild scene. Occasionally she’d point to one of the children with a long, bony finger and gesture for them to sit down. The child would obey, for about a half a second, then he or she would be again wiggling off the bench, giggling and ignoring the old lady. Which, half the time, Lettie didn’t notice anyway, because she was darned near blind, too.

But she showed up almost every day, and beggars couldn’t be choosers. Which Jo repeated yet again to Cherise, when her full-time teacher muttered, “Damned, Lettie. The old bat is practically a mummy.”

“Can’t even leave to use the bathroom without all hell breakin’ loose,” Cherise said, then headed toward the two tables, clapping her hands loudly as she approached the kids. “Everyone find your places!”

As their drill sergeant had returned, the children found their seats and snacks, although there was still plenty of fidgeting and giggling.

Jo moved forward to pitch in. She wrestled with a couple juice boxes and drink straws. She opened a yogurt. She wiped a runny nose or two. As she moved around helping where she could, frustration replaced any sense of satisfaction in giving her assistance.

All Cherise managed to do with these kids was glorified babysitting. She just didn’t have the time or the help to do projects with them. They colored and played in the courtyard. They had some puzzles and some games, but these kids needed and deserved a daycare that would get them ready for school.

Jo set the yogurt she’d just opened down in front of Damon, a particularly cheeky little four-year-old.

“I can’t eat that,” he informed her adamantly.

“Yes, you can,” Jo said. She knew that Damon’s mother was alone and every cent she had was precious to her. No food could go wasted, just because Damon was feeling contrary. She pushed the yogurt toward him and waited while he reluctantly picked up his spoon and dipped the very tip into the pink custard, then put it in his mouth with a horrendous twist of his face.

“Jo?”

Jo straightened, her heart grinding to a complete stop as she recognized the voice, even as she told herself she couldn’t. Slowly she turned.

Maksim stood in the midst of the curled, faded flowers and bees, sporting designer slacks and a perfectly tailored shirt that showed off his flawless physique to a tee.

A slow smile unfurled over his equally perfect lips as he saw her shock.

“Hi.”

Jo blinked. Was that all he could say? What the hell was he doing here? Her first impulse was to shove him out of the shabby classroom that just managed to further showcase his utter perfection.

Instead she pushed at the edge of her glasses and scowled at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Maksim’s smiled deepened as if she’d greeted him with warmth rather than shocked disdain.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

Jo’s scowl creased into a frown. Was he serious?

“Well,” she said slowly since it was clear he’d lost his mind, and might have trouble comprehending. “I’m at work, so I really don’t have time to chat at the moment.” She jerked her head toward the children. For the first time since they’d arrived this morning, all their little attentions were focused on Jo and her unexpected visitor.

Leave it to children to pay attention when you don’t want them to, Jo thought, praying they’d lose interest quickly. Of course, they wouldn’t.

“Actually,” Maksim said clearly undaunted by the miniature audience, “I really didn’t just stop by for a visit.” He smiled again, and held out his hand. For the first time, Jo noticed he held several papers.

She stared at them for a moment, then reached out to take the pages. Carefully, she studied them, flipping through one page then another then another.

She knew her eyes must have been the size of one of the flowers on the wall when she finally looked up at him.

He didn’t wait for her to speak, or maybe he realized she couldn’t.

“As you can see, I have plenty of experience working with—” he smiled at the kids, who still watched him as if he was a superhero come to life, “these little—fellas.”

He reached out to scruff the boy closest to him on the head. He smiled broadly at the child, but Jo noticed this time it seemed a little more strained.

She continued to gape at him. He wasn’t really saying he wanted to volunteer? He didn’t really have experience? He couldn’t. He just—couldn’t.

“Let me see this?” Cherise appeared at her side, snatching the résumé out of Jo’s numb fingers.

After a few seconds, she let out a low whistle. “Gorgeous and experienced.” Her chatty little eyebrow rose. “You must have dropped right out of heaven.”

Maksim grinned and extended a hand. “Something like that.”