Love Bites (15 page)

His surprise slowly gave way to passion. He shook
his head. “But now that you're there, what do you plan to do?”

Rachel considered then suggested, “Ride you like a wild pony?”

Etienne's eyes widened incredulously. Giving a howl of mirth, he flipped her onto her back, caught her hands, and raised them over her head, holding them both there with one of his own. Arching one eyebrow at her wickedly he said, “I should have brought my handcuffs.”

“Handcuffs?” Rachel squealed. “That sounds kinky.”

“Hmm.” Etienne dropped his head to catch her nipple in his mouth, and suckled delicately. Lifting his head, he informed her, “In a hundred years or so, when we get tired of straight sex, you'll appreciate my kinkiness.”

Rachel shook her head, amused. Sighing as he bent his head to her breast again, she watched him lave her nipple with his tongue then nip lightly at it. Arching, moaning, and squirming as he did, suddenly his words registered in her mind.
In a hundred years or so, when we get tired of straight sex, you'll appreciate my kinkiness.

Did he really mean that? Did he expect her to be in his life in a hundred years? Was this more than an affair? They hadn't been together long, and she knew it was too soon to ask his intentions—if there ever really was an appropriate moment in this day and age
for such—but the thought nagged at her. Where were they headed? What was she to him besides the woman who had saved his life and whom he had saved, the woman his cousin had tricked him into sleeping with.

“What am I doing wrong?”

Rachel jerked back and met Etienne's gaze with confusion. “What?”

“Your mind is closed to me,” he explained quietly. “Which means you aren't excited. I'm doing something wrong. What is it?”

Rachel managed a smile and shook her head. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

Before he could ask what about, she lifted her head and claimed his lips. She had no desire to let him know what she had been thinking. If he had intentions or hopes for their future, she didn't want to put him in a spot where he felt he had to announce them before he was ready. And if he didn't have any intentions, she'd really rather not spoil this by knowing. Life held no guarantees, even for vampires, it seemed.

They frolicked and made love on the beach until well past midnight, then decided to head home to feed. Etienne's home, Rachel corrected herself as she picked up the blanket and folded it. Etienne rinsed out the bowl and two champagne glasses at the shoreline. They had eaten the strawberries and every last drop of chocolate, at a couple of points using each other's bodies for plates. Then Etienne had produced champagne and two glasses. Rachel had been curious
to know how the drink would affect her now that she was a vampire. She had never been much of a drinker; two drinks had always been enough to put her under the table. As it turned out, making love on the beach was a thirsty business, and she had managed to put away half the bottle Etienne produced without much effect.

Etienne finished replacing everything in the basket, picked it up, then straightened and held out his hand. “Let me take that.”

Rachel handed over the blanket and watched him lay it atop the basket under the handles. She placed her hand in his when he held it out again, and they started up the beach toward the parking lot.

The path was narrow and they had to walk single file. Since he knew the way better, Rachel stepped behind Etienne, allowing him to take the lead. They were several feet onto the wooded trail when he stopped, turned sideways, and whispered, “Look.”

Rachel stepped to his side and peered where he was pointing, then sucked in a breath. The air was full of brightly shining miniature lights.

“What are they?”

“Fireflies.”

“Fireflies?” she asked with disbelief. She shook her head. These weren't like any she'd seen before. They were much brighter, like tiny stars, really. She couldn't believe these brilliant lights were insects. Etienne apparently recognized her incredulity.

“Your eyesight is different,” he explained. “They'll appear a little different now than before the change.”

“Oh.” Her gaze locked on the tiny lights. Rachel was so enthralled, she hardly noticed Etienne slipping his hand around hers to clasp it. He tugged her gently sideways to lean into him, and they simply watched in silence for several moments. At last Rachel sighed and said, “It's beautiful.”

“Yes,” Etienne agreed. He gave her hand a squeeze and bent to press a kiss to her forehead.

Rachel glanced up at him with surprise, but he was already looking back at the fireflies. She stared at him silently, wondering what he'd meant. He had kissed her in passion, made love to her even, but this kiss had felt different. It had been affectionate, perhaps even a loving caress. It was the first sign that he might feel something besides desire for her, and she found herself cherishing the idea. Her own feelings were confused and slightly muddled, but she knew they went beyond desire. Rachel liked Etienne Argeneau. She also respected and was learning to trust him. She was starting to think things could get serious, at least on her part. But she wasn't sure what his feelings were on the matter, and frankly, that left her nervous.

“We should go,” Etienne murmured. “The sun will be making an appearance soon, and I didn't bring any blood.”

Rachel nodded and straightened, then fell into step
behind him. They continued along the wooded path. This time she didn't even bother to try not to stare at his behind as they walked. The man had a butt you could bounce coins off.

“Well, I think that's the one.”

Rachel stared at herself in the mirror, surprise clear in her expression as Marguerite plucked at some of the blond curls and drew them forward to frame her face. She couldn't believe the difference a wig could make. Rachel hardly recognized herself, and was quite sure that no one else would.

“Yes, this will do nicely,” Marguerite decided with a satisfied sigh. She smiled at Rachel in the mirror. “Now you can go to Lissianna's wedding…and so can Etienne.”

Rachel managed not to wince. Much to her dismay, she had learned today that Etienne, who was supposed to be one of the ushers, had skipped the dress rehearsal the night before because he hadn't wished
to leave Rachel “alone and unprotected.” She hadn't even known that he had skipped it until Marguerite arrived today, full of determination to take her shopping. She'd also said: come hell or high water, Etienne was going to be at his sister's wedding even if they had to disguise Rachel as a goat to get her there. The older woman had quickly followed that up with a reassurance that she was quite sure disguising Rachel as a goat would not be necessary; she had simply been making a point.

Rachel herself had been too busy glaring at Etienne to appreciate the woman's soothing words. Now, she stared at herself in the mirror and happily agreed that being disguised as a goat wouldn't be necessary.

“Well, it's makeup and nails next, and then we're done,” Marguerite announced. With a pleased sigh, she glanced at the woman who had been fitting Rachel with wigs. “Where is Vicki?”

“Waiting in her room,” the woman answered. “I'll escort you back.”

“Good, good.” Marguerite moved so Rachel could rise.

Following the girl, Rachel wasn't terribly surprised when Etienne's mother fell into step. She would no doubt oversee the makeup session as diligently as the wig selection. Marguerite was definitely a take-charge kind of gal, Rachel decided as she was led into a small room in cream tones.

To be honest, Marguerite had been in charge from
the moment they left Etienne's house. She had taken Rachel to her favorite clothing store first. It hadn't taken Rachel long to figure out why the designer was Marguerite's favorite. The shop owner had fawned over her as if she were royalty. The woman was also a vampire—Rachel had recognized it right away. She wasn't exactly sure how; she had just somehow been able to sense it, and supposed it was another instinct no one had bothered to mention to her. It was no doubt a handy skill to have. After all, feeding off other vampires could be quite debilitating, as she had found out.

Rachel had remained silent and agreeable as she was dressed in gown after expensive gown and paraded out for Marguerite's inspection. Etienne's mother had insisted on footing the bill for the excursion, saying that it was her pleasure. Besides, she was sure Rachel wouldn't wish to attend something as boring as a wedding were it not necessary for Etienne to go.

Rachel had tried to argue the issue until it was pointed out that she could hardly use her bank card or credit card as either would lead the police directly to her—and she hadn't yet gained control of her teeth, so being found wasn't an option just yet. Promising herself that she would repay the woman once her life was returned to normal, Rachel had acquiesced. And since the woman was paying for it all—even if only
temporarily—she felt Marguerite should have the major say in what she wore.

Fortunately, the gown Etienne's mother chose was Rachel's favorite. Created of dark blue lace over a long satin underdress, it was off-the-shoulder, featuring a fitted bodice and long tight sleeves of lace. Rachel felt absolutely beautiful in it, despite the fact that the skirt was a touch long. There were shoes made of the same material. Fortunately, the heel was just high enough that the gown was no longer too long.

“Here you are.” The wig girl stopped and opened a door, then held it for Rachel and Marguerite. Rachel led the way into the room. A young woman was seated at a table filled with cosmetics, obviously waiting for them. She jumped up at their entrance and rushed forward to greet them, and ushered Rachel and Marguerite to sit at the makeup table. After ensuring neither of them wished refreshments, the girl asked what they wanted, and Marguerite explained about the wedding, the color of the dress, and so on. Within moments the girl was working on Rachel's face, murmuring over the purity and healthy color of her skin.

Rachel didn't say anything in response to the girl's compliments, rather distracted as she was by gaping at her face. She had noticed that makeup wasn't as necessary anymore, but hadn't really taken a close look. Now, in the magnified mirror the girl held out, Rachel simply stared at herself. Her skin was as
smooth and soft as a baby's bottom. She marveled as the girl worked on her face, answering questions rather absently and agreeing with most of the woman's suggestions.

Marguerite suggested a beauty mark be applied to aid in disguising her, and Rachel found herself suddenly sporting one above her lip on the left side. The small addition, combined with Vicki's artistry and the wig, really made a difference. By the time they were done, even Rachel thought she looked exotic. She couldn't stop looking at herself as they moved to another mirrored room where both her nails and Marguerite's were shaped and painted.

“Well, that was fun,” Marguerite said as they got back into her limo.

“Yes,” Rachel agreed. She felt pampered and pretty, but also a touch guilty that she hadn't paid for any of it. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome, my dear. And please stop feeling guilty. It was my pleasure to do all this.”

The woman put the whammy on her as she gave the order. The guilt Rachel had been experiencing melted away, so she knew it. However, she decided not to resent the woman's slipping into her brain, instead deciding to enjoy it. Guilt was really no fun at all.

“Here we are.”

Rachel glanced out the window of the limo as it
came to a halt in front of a house. A huge house. Not Etienne's.

“Where are we?” she asked in surprise.

“My home, dear,” Marguerite answered. The driver got out from behind the wheel and walked around to open the door for them. “Etienne is going to meet us here to ride to the church. That way I can decide what jewelry you should wear.”

“Oh.” Rachel followed her out of the car. What kind of jewelry would a vampire own?

 

Etienne tugged at his tie, then promptly straightened it again, only to tug irritably at it once more. He hated wearing ties. He hated tuxes, too. Why had he agreed to be in this wedding party? He was more a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, which was why he enjoyed working with computers. He didn't have to wear business clothes to work. He only had to dress up for meetings with the company that produced and distributed his games.

Etienne readjusted his tie and sighed as he paced his mother's salon. He supposed ties were better than the cravats he'd been forced to wear when younger. That fashion craze had been one huge pain. Most of the clothes in the early eighteenth century had been rather foppish, although they had shown his muscular legs to good advantage.

He grinned at that slightly egotistical thought as the tap of high-heeled footsteps in the hall made him
glance toward the door. Probably his mother. Marguerite had always been quick at getting ready for such occasions. He wasn't sure if it was hundreds of years of practice, or simply that it took very little work to make her beautiful, but she had been quick at the task for as long as he could recall.

But it wasn't his mother. It was the most incredible blonde Etienne had seen in his life. It took a moment for him to register that it was Rachel in a wig. She floated into the room, a vision in blue lace and silk.

“Your mother sent me down to tell you Lissianna's almost ready. She also said it's getting late, and you and Bastien should go pick up Greg and Lucern and get them to the church.”

“That's a good idea.” Bastien entered the room. Rachel turned and offered a smile to the man. He smiled back, a tinge of surprise on his face as he took her in. “You look lovely, Rachel. Just as lovely as a blonde as you are as a redhead.”

“Thank you.” She blushed prettily, then moved around him and left the room, leaving Etienne to stare after her. Suave devil that he was, he hadn't said a word about her appearance. That was when Etienne realized that, for all his centuries of knowledge, he was a first-class idiot.

“Nice move there, Etienne,” Bastien said, grinning. “I can see the old silver tongue is working hard.”

Grunting, Etienne flopped into a chair.

Bastien merely laughed harder at his disconsolate
expression. Walking over, he clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on. Lucern probably has his hands full with a nervous Greg about now. We should go help him pack the groom in the car and get him to the church.”

Etienne heaved himself to his feet. Following his dark-haired brother out of the room to the front door, he glanced about, hoping he might spot Rachel again and perhaps get to give her the compliment he should have—but of course she was nowhere to be seen. He'd missed his chance. And if there was one thing Etienne had learned in his three-hundred-plus years, it was that life rarely gave you second chances.

 

“They make a cute couple, but it isn't him she wants.”

Etienne stopped glaring at the dance floor where Bastien was, in his opinion, holding Rachel far too close, and turned to scowl at his cousin. Thomas had paused beside him and was watching the couple dance too. Etienne glowered at him for his trouble and turned back to watch, trying to ignore the jealousy and resentment rising within him.

The wedding had gone without a hitch. The meal was over and the reception was in full swing, yet Etienne hadn't been able to share a single word with Rachel yet. He really wanted to correct his earlier flub and tell her she looked beautiful…among other things. Unfortunately, as one of the ushers, Etienne had been forced to sit at the head table with the rest
of the wedding party. Rachel had been placed at Jeanne Louise and Thomas's table. He'd felt bad about that at first, but she'd seemed to enjoy herself—at least, every time he'd looked her way Rachel had been laughing at something, so he assumed she'd had a good time. He himself had been bored to tears and impatient to rejoin her. Unfortunately, Bastien had been quicker, and had reached Rachel first. He'd immediately scooped her up and onto the dance floor—which Etienne felt was kind of a crappy thing for a brother to do.

“They're just dancing, Etienne,” Thomas said. He sounded vastly amused.

He didn't appreciate Thomas poking inside his head, but then Etienne was already a bit cheesed off at his cousin. Getting to enjoy Rachel's company during the meal was one reason, but he knew his jealousy was ridiculous, so he ignored it and said, “I have a bone to pick with you, cousin.”

“Uh-oh.” Thomas couldn't even dim his grin. He obviously wasn't too concerned. “What have I done now?”

“Sweet Ecstasies?” he asked, scowling. “What kind of setup was that?”

“Well, it was obvious what you two needed,” his cousin said unapologetically. “And it worked, didn't it?”

When Etienne remained silent, Thomas laughed and clapped him on the back. “You're welcome. I'm
sure you would have managed it without the drinks eventually. You're just a little rusty, so I decided to give you a little push.”

“Well, what if she hadn't wanted—”

“Not a chance, dude. I read her thoughts. Dudette was way hot for you.” He shook his head. “Even I—despite being the reprobate that I am—was almost moved to blush at the thoughts she was having.”

“Really?” Etienne asked.

“Oh, yeah.” He grinned widely, then arched an eyebrow. “But why the flak now? You didn't say anything when I delivered the blood to your house. Is there trouble in paradise already?”

“No.” Etienne glanced toward Rachel, his eyes devouring her body in its blue gown with both heat and knowledge. Then he turned to his cousin again and added, “I would have ragged you about it the day you brought the blood and we were locked out, but I wasn't really in any shape.”

“No, I guess you weren't,” Thomas agreed. “You were pretty drained. In more ways than one.” He burst out laughing, then walked away, leaving Etienne with a scowl.

“You should cut in.”

Etienne turned to find his mother, a soft smile playing about her lips. He temporarily ignored the advice and commented, “You look happy.”

“I am,” she agreed. “The first of my babies is married and settling down.
Finally
.”

Etienne chuckled at the emphasis. He'd heard humans complain about their children taking forever to marry and settle down. They didn't have a clue.

“So, are you going to cut in or not?” Marguerite asked. “She wants you to.”

“Does she?”

Marguerite concentrated for a moment, a smile curving her lips, then she nodded and said softly, “Oh yes, son. Rachel enjoyed dinner and is having a nice time but would definitely rather be in your arms. She'd rather dance with you. Bastien knows it too, and his ego is suffering for it. You should go save him.”

Etienne let his gaze drift out to Rachel again, nodding. “Thank you.” Without another word, he crossed the dance floor to the slowly moving couple.

“Brother.” Bastien greeted Etienne solemnly as he reached their side, then he released Rachel, gave her a polite, courtly bow, and left the dance floor.

“Hi,” Rachel said softly.

“Hi.” Etienne opened his arms in invitation and released a breath when she stepped into his embrace. It was where she belonged. He could feel it. In three hundred years no other woman had felt so right. He'd made the right choice in turning Rachel. She was meant for him.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” he murmured by her ear. “I've never seen a more beautiful woman in all my days.”