Night's Touch (34 page)

After breakfast, she went upstairs to shower and dress, and then Di Giorgio drove her over to Vince's garage, but the place was locked up tight.

Disappointed, she asked Frank to take her back to her parents' house. After walking her to the door and seeing her safely inside, he told her he was going to his place for a quick shower and a change of clothes.

"Don't be running off without me," he warned. "Your folks will have my hide if anything happens to you."

"Don't worry," Cara said, "I'm not going anywhere."

Anton woke with a start. Disoriented for a moment, he glanced at his surroundings, relieved to find that he was at home. Apparently, he had fallen asleep on the sofa.

Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair. He'd had the most horrible nightmare. He shuddered at the memory. His father had been terrorizing the city and his mother's burned body had been at his father's side. It had been like every horrible zombie movie he had ever seen. The two of them had had him backed into a corner, their skeletal hands reaching for his throat, when he woke up.

Rising, he went into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Leaving the bathroom, he paused outside his mother's bedroom. She had never let him into her room, insisting she liked her privacy. Well, she wasn't there to stop him now. It took only a moment to force the lock.

Stepping inside, he hit the light switch, then glanced around, wondering what she'd had to hide. He saw nothing out of the ordinary: a double bed with a flowered comforter, a pair of nightstands, a lamp with a fancy shade, a six-drawer dresser littered with yellowed newspaper clippings. He wondered how many times she had read the story about his father's death.

Moving farther into the room, he went to her closet and opened the door. Her dresses took up one side; the other was filled with men's clothing—all new, with the price tags still in place.

Going into his mother's bathroom, he opened the medicine cabinet, where he found an assortment of men's toiletries.

Regret burned deep in his soul. His mother had been certain her incantation would work. And it would have, he thought, his anger rising, except for DeLongpre's daughter. But for her, his father and mother might be here with him now.

Anton clenched his hands at his sides as he remembered how it had been, growing up without a father, listening to other guys talk about playing football with their dads and going camping and hunting and fishing. Their fathers had taught them how to drive and mow the yard and bait a hook. Their dads were there to cheer them on at little League games. Other boys had fathers they could talk to about things that a guy couldn't discuss with his mother.

Anton sighed. He had never had a father, and now his mother was gone, too, and it was all that tramp Cara DeLongpre's fault.

Going back into his mother's bedroom, he stood there a moment and then, not certain why, he went to his mother's dresser and opened the drawers one by one. The right side was filled with his mother's underthings. The left side held neatly folded T-shirts, shorts, and handkerchiefs intended for his father. It occurred to Anton that it all belonged to him now: the house, the cars, and the contents of the house. He picked up one of the T-shirts, then rummaged through the others, noting that there were a variety of colors—red, navy, green, and black. Under the last shirt he found a wand wrapped in a sheet of tissue paper.

It wasn't his mother's, and it wasn't his.

Curious, Anton picked it up and felt a faint vibration of latent power flow from the wood up his arm. He ran his fingertips over the satin finish, knowing it must have belonged to his father.

Taking the wand with him, he left his mother's room. Now that Cara's parents knew who he was, it was unlikely that he would ever be able to get close to her again.

Frowning thoughtfully, Anton ran his thumb over the wand. If he could find a way to control the creature, he might be able to avenge his mother's death before sending the creature back where it belonged.

Going down to the basement, he began rummaging through his mother's spell books, searching for an incantation that would enable him to control the creature inhabiting his father's body.

Vince woke late in the afternoon to find Cat sitting on his chest. "What do you want?" he muttered irritably. "Go on, get out of here."

Cat yawned, displaying sharp white teeth, then, tail sticking straight up in the air, he padded to the edge of the mattress where he sat down and began washing his face.

With a shake of his head, Vince sat up. He had kept watch outside the DeLongpre's house last night until the rising of the sun had forced him to seek shelter.

As always, his first waking thought was for Cara. Drawing on his preternatural power, he concentrated on her and after a moment, as if there was a tangible link between them, he knew she was at home and that she was thinking of him.

Vince smiled, pleased that he had apparently mastered a new vampire skill. If it wasn't just a fluke, it meant that he would always be able to find her. Thinking of what Brenna had said to him the night before, he decided maybe that wasn't such a good thing after all. If he was going to sever his ties with Cara, it would be better if the break was clean and permanent.

Damn! How was he going to tell her the truth after all this time? Would she hate him for waiting so long, or simply for being what he was? And yet, why should she hate him? She loved her parents. He tried to tell himself there was no difference, but, of course, there was.

For a man who had resigned himself to spending the rest of his existence alone, he had fallen hard and fast. Damn and double damn. He never should have come back here. Nothing had changed. He couldn't just walk out on her without a word this time, not when he had promised her that he would see her today, even though that would probably be easier on both of them. He would see her tonight, he thought, and then he would never see her again. He shook his head, thinking he had promised himself the same thing only a short time ago.

He swore softly, remembering how Cara had looked with that baby in her arms, the light in her eyes when she had talked about having a big family. Leaving her again would be like ripping the heart from his chest, but he loved her too much to ask her to give up a normal life and the family she longed for and deserved.

Cara stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair. She had spent the day cleaning house, not that there was much to clean. Her parents were very tidy people. Still, dusting, vacuuming, mopping the floors, and washing her few dishes had kept her busy. Changing the sheets on her bed had made her think of Vince. It seemed like years since they had last made love. She had clutched her pillow to her chest, closed her eyes, and imagined that he was there with her, that his hands were caressing her, that his mouth was hungrily kissing her, that he was lowering her to the mattress, his body covering hers…

In the midst of her daydream, he had called to say hello. Hearing his voice had put a smile on her face, a glow in her heart, and a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. Thank goodness he couldn't read her mind! She smiled at the memory as she pulled the brush through her hair.

"My, my, what put that smile on your face?"

Cara turned to see her mother standing in the doorway. "Mom! You startled me."

"I'm sorry, dear. You're not planning to go out, are you?"

Cara nodded. "Vince called a little while ago. He's picking me up in twenty minutes."

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"I'm just going over to Vince's for a few hours."

"Why don't the two of you stay here?"

Cara turned back to the mirror, a faint blush warming her cheeks. How could she tell her mother she wanted to be alone with Vince, that she wanted to curl up in his arms and stay there forever?

But no words were necessary. "I see," Brenna said quietly.

"Have you heard from Dad?" Cara asked, hoping to change the subject.

"No, but he's fine."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. Cara, please don't go out tonight."

"Mom, I'll be fine. Frank will…"

"Frank was there when Anton kidnapped you, remember?"

"Are you saying you think I'm in danger with Vince?"

"No, of course not. Do I need to remind you that that creature is still out there, and so is Anton? Both of them are dangerous."

Cara bit down on the inside corner of her lower lip. Her mother was right, of course. As much as she wanted to be alone with Vince, going out suddenly seemed foolish.

"I'll stay in my room if you and Vince want some time alone," Brenna offered, thinking it might be wise for her to be nearby. If Vince chose tonight to tell Cara the truth, her daughter might need consoling later.

Cara blew out a sigh. "All right, we'll stay here."

"You promise?"

"I promise, Mom."

Relieved, Brenna gave her daughter a hug. "Call me if you need me," she said, and left the room.

Cara stared after her mother. What an odd thing to say, she thought, and then forgot all about it when she heard the doorbell ring.

Hurrying down the stairs, Cara looked through the peephole before opening the door, felt her heart somersault inside her breast when she saw Vince standing on the porch.

"Hi," she said breathlessly.

"Hi yourself. Are you ready?"

"I'm afraid I can't go. I promised my mom I'd stay in tonight."

"Oh? Why's that?"

She looked at him as if he wasn't too bright. "Hello? That creature is still out there, you know, and Mom seems to think Anton might be a threat, too."

Vince followed Cara into the living room, admiring the sway of her hips and the way the lamplight shone in the wealth of her hair.

"She's probably right." He suspected the real reason Brenna wanted Cara to stay home was to keep the two of them from "going any further."

Cara sat on the sofa, then looked up at him expectantly.

He sat beside her, drawn by her warmth, the glow in her eyes, the seductive smile playing over her lips. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was, or how hard it was for him to resist her? Even now, it was all he could do to keep from dragging her into his arms, brushing her hair away from her neck, and tasting the sweetness pulsing through her veins. She attracted him on so many levels—her beauty, her intelligence, her ready smile. With her, he felt whole, complete. Loved. He closed his eyes. How could he leave her? Even if he lived as long as Mara, he knew he would never again find anyone like Cara.

"Vince? Is something wrong?"

He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her brow furrowed with concern.

"No, darlin'. How could anything be wrong when I'm here with you?"

She batted her eyelashes at him. "Why, sir," she said in a mock Southern accent, "you do say the sweetest things."

"And you, miss, are the most enchanting female I've ever known."

His voice moved over her like a velvet caress. "Vince…"

"Come here, darlin'."

She scooted closer, her eyelids fluttering down as his mouth found hers. In moments, she was lying on her side on the sofa, his body aligned with hers, their legs entwined. He kissed her as if he could never get enough, as if he needed her as much as the air he breathed, as if his very survival depended on her. It was a heady sensation.

His hands caressed her with tender urgency and she drew him closer, reveling in the feel of his body pressed against hers. Heat unfurled deep within her, spreading outward, warming her, arousing her until the rest of the world fell away and there was only this man, this moment.

She murmured his name, begging him to carry her upstairs, to make love to her all through the night.

"Ah, darlin'," he replied, his voice ragged, "I'd like nothing better."

"Then what's stopping you?"

"We're not alone," he reminded her.

"Then let's go to your place."

"I thought you promised your mother you'd stay here?"

"I did, but…" She pressed her face against his chest. "I want you so much."

It was tempting, but he wasn't about to put her life at risk. He wasn't afraid of Anton. He could destroy the weasel with a look, but he wasn't so sure about the creature inhabiting Anthony Loken's body. Vince blew out a sigh. Against mortals, he was nearly invincible. Against a creature raised from the dead… he didn't know, and he didn't intend to find out, not if it put Cara's life at risk.

She stared up at him, her lips swollen from his kisses, her breathing uneven. He could smell himself on her, smell her need, her desire.

"Please, Vince?"

Damn! How could he refuse her when he wanted her as much as she wanted him?

For a moment, he was tempted to pull her into his arms and carry her to his place, creature or no creature. After all, though she didn't know it, this was to be their last night together. Coward that he was, this time he was going to kiss her good-bye and walk out of her life forever. For a moment, his yearning warred with his good sense. In the end, his good sense won out. Leaving Cara again was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done, but she had no place in his world. He couldn't be certain that he would always be in control of his hunger or his lust, and if anything happened to her because of him, because of what he was…

Muttering an oath, Vince sat up, his body aching with need. Keeping a tight rein on his desire, he took Cara into his arms again. With his fingertips, he stroked the soft curve of her cheek, the wealth of her hair, the sweet temptation of her lower lip.

"You know that I love you, don't you?" he murmured.

"You do?"

"More than I've ever loved anyone, or anything."

"Oh, Vince… I love you, too!"

"I know." He rained kisses on her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her forehead, the tempting swath of warm skin beneath her ear. The hunger rose within him, whispering for him to take her now, take it all, even as his desire urged him to bury himself in her sweetness one last time.

"Vince, let's go upstairs…"

Ah, love
, he thought,
if only I dared
. But as much as he wanted her, needed her, he couldn't take her here, under her father's roof. He couldn't make love to her knowing he intended to leave her once again with no explanation, only this time it would be for good.