Out of the Dark (Forbidden Love) (4 page)
Read Out of the Dark (Forbidden Love) Online
Authors: DANIELLE JAMES
He smiled a slow grin.
“I am familiar with that establishment. I will be there at nine. It is a date then,” he said, tossing a bill onto the table. “Keep the change. Good night, Brea.”
Brea watched him all the way out the door, admiring his firm backside.
Oh how I love to
watch you walk away
, she thought. She turned her attention to the money on the table. He left a fifty. Wow.
Remembering that she lied about meeting friends, Brea took out her cell and dialed.
“Keelie, I need your help.”
“This is stupid,” Brea huffed, staring at herself in the mirror. “Why do I have to look like a floozy?”
“You do not look like a floozy.” Keelie replied sternly. “This is appropriate clubbing attire. Now sit still.”
Brea tried to remain still while Keelie assaulted her with eyeliner. Brea rarely wore makeup, and when she did, it was little more than powder and mascara. Keelie brought over a dress for Brea to wear as well as an entire beauty salon
’s worth of hair things. Most of which she didn’t even know what it was for. But she endured while Keelie buffed, polished, and painted every surface of Brea’s body. “There! You look delicious!” Keelie beamed, tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder.
“Um, in case you forgot, I am meeting a vampire. I don’t think delicious is the look I want.”
“Stop fretting and look at yourself. You are stunning. And it isn’t
any
vampire. It’s Angel Knight! You are so lucky!”
Brea looked in the full length mirror at her reflection. The green dress was pretty, even if it was too short. It had the barest of spaghetti straps to hold it in place. Brea
’s hair was down, spiraling down her shoulders and back like red Christmas ribbons. Her bare shoulders and chest were coated in glitter. She looked like a present. “No.” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. She resisted the urge to stamp her foot to further her point. “I will not show up looking like a gift. I look like a fucking decoration.”
“Fine, fine, wear the blue one,” Keelie sighed.
Brea changed and was much happier with the sapphire blue dress. It covered more skin and
didn’t give off a Christmas vibe. The last thing Brea wanted was to look like she gift-wrapped herself for some man, famous or otherwise, and especially not for one with fangs.
The club was packed. In fact, there was a line at the door. Brea sighed to herself. There were women far more beautiful than
herself waiting, there was no way they were getting in anytime soon. But Keelie didn’t seem to notice. She tripped lightly to the front of the line, Brea in tow. All it took was one smile from Keelie, and the bouncer moved the rope to let them in.
“How did you do that?” Brea asked.
“It’s all about who you know,” she replied.
Inside, the club was hopping. There were people dancing, talking, and sitting at the tables. Keelie led Brea to one of the tables near the bar.
“So what time is your date supposed to be here?”
“It’s not a date, and nine. What time is it?”
“Nine fifteen. Do you see him?”
Brea looked around before answering.
“No.” Of course he was late. What else would she expect from a man who everyone in the world waited for.
“Well, let’s get a drink.” She waved to a server and ordered them both margaritas. Normally, Brea didn’t drink. But on that night, she would make an exception. She was nervous and jittery and needed something to calm herself. After the second drink, she felt much better.
A pair of tall, handsome men approached the two women.
“Would you like to dance?”
“Sure,” Keelie answered immediately. After studying the men for a moment and determining they were both human, Brea agreed. The music was loud and it had a good beat. The man who said his name was Jack or John or something like that held Brea close to him. He was too close, Brea thought, and she stepped back away from him. He followed. He bumped and grinded against her leg, completely oblivious to the fact that Brea was trying to put some distance between them.
Angel saw Brea accept the invitation to dance. She was stunning in her blue
dress, her hair was silky and smooth, curling down her back. Angel ground his teeth to avoid acting on the instinct to punch the man dancing with her right in his smug face. He didn’t like one bit the way the man rubbed himself against Brea. They might just have well been having sex with their clothes on!
Mine,
his mind cried out. Why had she even agreed to dance with him? But then again, maybe that’s what she liked. Besides, Angel was late. He made sure that he overstuffed himself, leaving no room for any attempt to feed. If he had been on time, it might be him she was dancing with.
Unable to stand it any longer, Angel made his way through the crowd to his woman.
Not his woman, he had to remind himself. Not yet. He tapped the stranger lightly on the shoulder, intending to ask if he could cut in. One look at Angel’s face, though, and the man backed away immediately.
“Thanks,” Brea said, turning to face Angel. “He was getting a bit fresh.”
“I wondered if that was how you liked to dance,” Angel said.
“Not with him, all he wanted was in my pants. And they are firmly off limits.”
“I see.” Angel wanted to ask if that included himself as well, but figured it did, and any attempt to change that status would only drive her away from him. Brea swayed to the music, swinging her hips and raising her arms over her head. She was a vision of beauty and sensuality. Angel groaned inwardly as he felt himself getting heavy in his groin. Unable to resist the urge to touch her, he reached with one hand to her waist, and she didn’t object. Even through the thin fabric of her dress, her skin felt like fire to his touch. He wanted so badly to pull her against his body, but resisted. There would be plenty of time for that later.
Brea was grateful to Angel for saving her from the goon humping her leg. Other than his hand on her waist, he made no move to touch her further. When the song ended, he led her back to her table. More drinks. After three margaritas, Brea was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol.
Her ears were buzzing lightly, her nose was numb, and her lips felt tingly.
“So have you considered my offer?” Angel asked.
“Why aren’t you on tour or something? I mean, are you here for a while?”
“I live here. I am home for a while, yes. But you did not answer my question.”
“If you can get John to agree, than how can I say no?”
“Wonderful,” he said, taking her hand. He leaned over the table so that he could speak at a lower volume. “I will arrange for you to be picked up at your home tomorrow morning.”
“How is it that you are here, everyone knows who you are, and no one is bothering you?” Brea asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Angel chuckled to
himself. “It is a glamour. I don’t want to be noticed, therefore, no one notices me.”
“I notice you,” Brea answered. Of course she noticed. He was strikingly good looking. Every move he made caught Brea’s attention. She found it difficult to think of anything but him when he was near.
“That’s because I want
you
to notice me.”
“Are you doing some kind of hocus pocus on me now?” she snapped at him. It was one thing for her mind to betray her, it was a whole other thing if he was doing it on purpose.
“Never,
Ma Cher
, I will never do any hocus pocus, as you call it, on you.” He lifted her hand to his nose again, breathing in her scent. Brea should have been angry. She should have jerked her hand away. Should have, but didn’t. He held her hand in front of him, tracing the veins in her wrist with his other hand. Then, he lifted her hand to his mouth. Brea’s heart was pounding in her chest. He was going to bite her, she just knew it. Knew it, but couldn’t bring herself to stop him. But he didn’t bite her. He brushed his lips over her pulse, then returned her arm. “I will never do anything to you that you do not wish,” he said, leaning closer. So close. Close enough that Brea could smell his spicy scent.
Acting without permission from her brain, Brea leaned in closer to
breath him in. She was inches from his face. Her eyes caught on his lips. They were perfect for kissing. Not too plump, not too thin. She realized then she wanted to kiss him. Just once, to see what it was like. She closed the distance between them and took his lips.
Angel stiffened momentarily, taken by surprise,
then returned her kiss. Her lips were soft and gentle against his own, and they smelled of lime and alcohol. He didn’t care. Caressing her face with his hand, he deepened the kiss. Trailing his tongue over her bottom lip and when she sighed, he darted into her mouth. She tasted of margaritas and strawberries. He could spend eternity drinking her in. When she moaned lightly against his lips, he took her mouth harder, bruising her delicate lips with the force of his kiss. Her tongue darted out against his own, playfully dancing with each other.
“It’s him! I knew it!” a woman’s voice called out.
“It really is! It’s Angel! Come on!” another shouted.
Angel had been so engulfed with kissing Brea that he let go of his glamour. Now
everyone
noticed him. “I think I will have company in a few seconds,” he said.
Brea righted herself in her chair, rubbing her lips as if she could still feel him there. Her lips were swollen and wet. Angel couldn
’t wait to taste her again. Before he could cast another glamour, he was surrounded by women. “Can I have your autograph?” “Will you sign my chest?” “Have you eaten tonight? Drink me!” He was so bombarded that he didn’t notice when Brea quietly slipped out of the club.
Brea paced the apartment she shared with Brandon. It was eight o’clock, her bag for the week was packed, and she was dressed in her best business attire. She smoothed the knee length skirt and straightened the lapels on her jacket. She didn’t know who would come for her, since she had run out of the night club without giving Angel the chance to explain. And what had she been thinking! Kissing him had been a mistake. One she would not repeat. This was a business deal, nothing more. It was the alcohol. It made her do things she wouldn’t normally do. There would be no more of that, either.
Brandon emerged from his bedroom quietly, draped in nothing more than a sheet. He put his index finger to his lips in a silent sign to be quiet. Brea wondered who, or what, was sleeping in that room. One could never be certain with Brandon. When the door softly clicked closed behind him, he turned to Brea with a mischievous smile.
“Helluva night, how bout you?”
“Interesting,” she mused. “I’m going to be gone for about a week. You gonna survive?”
“Yeah, where ya off to?”
“I’m going to be assisting that Angel guy for a week.”
His eyes bulged and his sleepy expression was quickly replaced with shock.
“
The
Angel? The one you waited on? Rock star extraordinaire? Yummy, yummy Angel Knight?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. I know it’s short notice, but he’s paying me enough to pay all the bills for two months. I can’t turn that down.”
“What kind of ‘assisting’ are you going to be doing?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows at her.
“I don’t know, exactly. Something to do with him having some kind of special company, planning parties or something like that. Hell, for what I’m getting paid, I don’t care what it is as long as he keeps his fangs off me.”
“Just his fangs?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not a whore!” she snapped.
“Didn’t say you were, I was only getting my facts straight. He could touch me with his fangs, or anything else he wanted, for that matter.”
“You are such a slut, you know that?”
“Yeah, but you love me.”
“It’s a good thing, too.” she laughed. At least, living with Brandon was interesting.
The buzzer rang and Brandon strolled over to press the button on the intercom.
“Yeah, who is it?”
“I am here to escort Miss Breanna Hunt to the Knight estate.” The voice belonged to a man.
“Come on up,” Brandon said to the disembodied voice, pressing the button that would allow the stranger into their complex.
The man who carried Brea
’s suitcase was human. He was built like a brick house, though. Probably somebody on Angel’s security team. Did everyone who worked for Angel have to be so damn tall? His blonde hair was short, big brown eyes, and he looked like a bouncer. He said his name was Ricco. He carried her bag to a large black limo, the windows tinted so dark that no one could see even the slightest detail inside.
Brea allowed him to open the door for her and she slid into the plush leather seat. She was alone in the car, the man who escorted her doubling as the driver. She sat in silence as she rode to the Knight estate.
Brea looked up when she felt the car stop. They were in front of an enormous iron gate. The driver tapped some numbers into a box outside his window, and the gates opened. They drove slowly up a long driveway, and Brea admired the greenery surrounding the drive. There were strategically placed tulips mixed with elephant ears and ferns. Trees decorated the lawn further back.
The mansion was made of stone and seemed to rise up from the ground as if it had grown there naturally. Green ivy with some kind of little white flowers grew up the walls, framing the windows. The windows were all tall, each tinted so darkly they were nearly blacked out. What else did she expect in the home of a vampire? It was silly to think that they slept in coffins in some damp and dark dungeon. Wasn’t it?
