Secrets of the Night Special Edition (113 page)

After he rescued Stevie, he must leave her and eventually succeed Moloch as leader of the undead. God, why did it hurt so much?

* * *

Inside the manor house, Stevie paced back and forth from one end of the great hall to the other, her footsteps slapping along the tiled floor. Sick to her stomach, sleepless from worry, filled with hopelessness, she knew there was nothing she could do, no way on earth she could rescue Galan.

Her family! They'd get desperate when she didn't write or call. Okay, so she had an uneasy relationship with her father and stepmother, she still kept in touch with them. Now, there'd be no "keeping in touch.”

Her frantic thoughts wrenched back to Galan. Assuming he'd come back for her--and he had to! --could they work something out between them? She had to face facts. She loved him, this vampire. Always would.

Every wonderful thing about him flashed through her head--his low, sexy voice, the tender expression on his face when he held her tight in his arms, his loving touch. All his special qualities came to mind, his kindness, his consideration of her, his courtliness, a trait you didn't see much anymore.

Could she come to terms with his vampirism? No point in asking. She'd take him any way she could.

* * *

"Galan!” Stevie rushed into his arms, covering his face with kisses, pressing him close to her heart.” Galan, you came back to me!” Tears misted her eyes, and she brushed the back of her hand across her face.

"Stevie, my Stevie!” He returned her kisses, his body hard and strong against hers, the most wonderful sensation in the world.

Her hands on his shoulders, she drew back to look into his face and saw his own eyes moist with tears.” I thought . . . I thought . . .” She swallowed and shook her head.

Galan smiled down at her, his eyes so full of love it chased every worry from her mind.” You thought I wouldn't come for you?” 

Tears streaming down her face, she choked on her words.” I didn't know . . . what had happened to you. But I'm so glad you're here with me.” She hugged him fiercely.” So glad.” Several moments passed before she could talk again.” What . . . what happened to keep you?”  Her fingers traced a path from his forehead to his neck, lingering on his hairline, smoothing across his unruly curls.

"Rosalinda gave me a bit of trouble. Later, I shall tell you more. Suffice it to say she is truly dead now, no longer a danger to you. A friend of mine killed her.”

Stevie wiped her hand across her cheeks, trying to speak in a level voice.” Looks like she made a lot of enemies.”

"True, but enough about Rosalinda.” Galan embraced her again, feathering kisses on her forehead, her cheek, behind her ear, his hands playing across her back to ease her ever closer.” My love, I have missed you so.” He looked longingly into her eyes and ran his finger along her cheek.” Now we can put all this trouble behind us and return to
Miami
.”

She smiled dreamily.” Then what are we waiting for?”

* * *

Returned to Stevie's apartment, Galan embraced her as a wave of despair halted his speech. He kissed her long and lingeringly, too well aware of the little time they had left between them. Too well aware he must let her go . . . for all eternity.

"Galan,” she murmured in her husky voice, “I was wrong when I said I never wanted to see you again--remember, the night when you told me what . . . what you were.” She sighed.” I've never been so wrong in my life.”

He turned away, his mouth working. What could he say?

She lay back on the sofa, drawing him with her, her arms wrapped across his back.” We don't have to stop at kisses,” she murmured. A smile of embarrassment skimmed over her face.” I'm usually not this bold. I've never . . . never suggested this to any other man before. But with you . . .” 

"Oh, my darling!” How easy it would be to surrender, to disavow his promise to Moloch. But he couldn't take her to bed, couldn't bind her to him when he must leave her for all time.

As he lay next to her, she feathered kisses across his cheek.” Hours before daylight,” she said, her breath warm on his skin.” No excuses.”

Her body was sweet torment, a temptation near impossible to refuse.

Galan rested his head by her beautiful throat and breathed a deep sigh.” You know I want you.” He nuzzled her neck.” But perhaps we should deal with this some other time. You are vulnerable now, I fear, after your recent capture and then your sojourn in
England
. Best to wait.” He didn't want to wait, he wanted her now. God, how it hurt.

"Don't think I'll change my mind about you . . . or us.”  Her fingers traced the harsh lines and angles of his face.

Quiet for a moment, a look of understanding came over her.” You're scared you'll forget yourself while we make love, is that it? You're afraid you might, uh, feed on me. That's it, right?” 

There! She had presented him with a perfect reason, albeit a false one. Take it.” Now you know how it is with vampires. I would never forgive myself if I took your blood. So best I avoid temptation.”

"But it wouldn't matter to me,” she said, placing light kisses down his cheek.” I'd stop you in time.”

Drawing on all his willpower, he sat up and eased away from her, then rose from the sofa.” But it would matter to me.” Unable to remove his gaze from her, he tucked his shirt in his pants.” I must depart now,” he murmured, the words choking him. His gaze lingered on her, to every dear feature--her blonde hair, rose-tinted cheeks, her full, lush breasts, slender waist, and long legs. But more than that, he caught her very essence, her easy laugh and warm smile, all the qualities that made her the woman he loved.

She sat up, too, brushing her hair from her face.” When will I see you again?” 

"I shall come to you soon.” And then leave you forever.

* * *

A few days after her return to
Miami
, Stevie knelt on the floor of Bookworm's Delight, shelving books in the Architecture section, a pile of volumes beside her.

Why hadn't she heard from Galan? A week had passed since he'd brought her back to
Miami
, and she hadn't had a word from him. Sighing, she rested her hand on the bookrack, trying not to worry, telling herself there had to be a logical reason for his neglect. Sure, any number of reasons, she mused with false optimism. Maybe he was sick. Did vampires suffer illnesses, like mortals? She'd never heard of such a thing, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen.

Finished stocking the books, she rose to her feet and adjusted her cotton pants.

"Hey, it's good to see you back.”

A tall, nice-looking guy with light brown hair and blue eyes stood next to the bookrack, a biography of Anne Boleyn in his hand. She thought hard, trying to place him. Now she remembered--he was the same man who'd helped her pick the volumes from the floor only a few weeks ago, a steady customer.

"Were you on vacation?” he queried.” Or shouldn't I ask?” 

Stevie stifled a laugh. What if she told him where--and when--she really was.” Right, I took a few weeks off.”

He looked around the bookstore, his gaze settling on her again.” I'm a regular here, you know. Love to read when I have the time. Only TV I watch is the History Channel. But I see you’re busy, so I won't take up your time. By the way, I'm Mark Farrell, a history professor at the
University
of
Miami
,” he said with a slight nod.” And you are . . . ?” 

"I remember your name, and you can call me Stevie.” She liked his boyish looks; hard to believe he was really a college professor.

He shifted the book in his hand.” Okay, Stevie, how about having lunch with me? Bayside is only a few blocks away,” he said, referring to the downtown shopping center with its many eateries.

"We're very busy, and I've got a lot of books to take care of.” She needed more complications in her life like she needed a broken toe.

He threw her a teasing smile.” But they give you a lunch break, don't they? Or do they starve you here?” 

Starve! Her days in the dungeon came back to haunt her. If only he knew! Well, why not have lunch with him? She'd had enough exotic experiences to last her a lifetime, so a switch to the mundane might be good. Never mind her earlier pronouncement against complications. Becoming a hermit wouldn't bring Galan back to her, and she could use a little fun in her life.

"Since I'm the store manager, I usually take off for lunch at one.”

"Just for today, do you suppose you could take off a little before twelve? That way, we'll beat the lunch crowd and have a more relaxed time together.”

She nodded.” Ten 'til twelve. No problem.”

* * *

"You said you were on vacation?” Mark asked. He sat with Stevie at a table in El Gaucho, a cozy restaurant located on the ground level of Bayside, the downtown shopping center. Several tables away, only a few other people occupied the Spanish restaurant at this early hour, so she and Mark virtually had the place to themselves.

"Vacation? Um, yes.” Reluctant to elaborate--he'd think she was nuts--Stevie glanced around the place, a much fancier restaurant than the other eateries at Bayside.

"Three weeks in
England
,” she said, fiddling with the napkin in her lap, wanting to end this conversation, afraid he'd trip her up on something.

"
England
! Place is cold this time of the year. Where did you stay--
London
?” 

As a matter of fact, I stayed at a manor house in the fifteenth century, in the middle of summer.” No, north of
London
, near
Oxford
. You're right, it was cold,” she lied. Frantically, she searched her mind for a fresh topic.” What history do you teach at the University?” 

"English history. And yes, I know the usual argument. How can you make a living teaching history? Well, I make a pretty good living at it, besides enjoying the profession.” He looked up as the waiter brought their orders.” Now, tell me about your trip. Of course,
England
is chockful of things to see and do. Been there a few times myself.”

"It was an unusual vacation, I'll say that much.” She pushed the paella around on her plate and licked her bottom lip.” I lived at a manor house, learning how people lived in the fifteenth century.”

"Oh, a study program! Now, that is interesting. I've participated in study programs, also. Spent several weeks in
England
and
Scotland
. Now--"

"Are you from
Miami
, Mr. Farrell, or should I say Professor Farrell?” 

"Just say Mark. No, I'm from
Cincinnati
. But--"

"Do you miss
Ohio
?”  She dipped her fork into the rice, glancing up at him.

"The cold and snow? Not on your life. And give up trying to change the subject, because I want to hear about your vacation, especially this manor house.”

"Well, I guess the house was typical of the fifteenth century, made of creamy stone with a pretty oriel window in front, a tiled floor downstairs, stone steps . . .” She sipped her iced tea, then set the tall glass down. . . .

"So,” she said a few minutes later, “I enjoyed my stay in
England--
"A lie; she was worried out of her mind the entire time--"but it's good to be back in
Miami
.” She spoke quickly.” You like your job at the University?” 

"Wouldn't teach if I didn't enjoy it.” Mark set his glass of burgundy back on the table.” One more question. Do you have a boyfriend?” 

"No, what about you?” 

"No boyfriend for me, either.”

She laughed.” You know what I mean.”

"Let's just say I have no entangling alliances. So why don't we do something this weekend. You don't work on Sunday, do you?” 

"No, not on Sunday.” Now that she gave it some thought, it might be good for her to see this man now and then, if that's what he wanted. Galan hadn't made any commitment to her.

"--lots of things to do on Sunday,” Mark was saying, “Movies, the beach . . .”

"Does the zoo sound too crazy? I always enjoy seeing the animals.”

He looked surprised.” The zoo, then. Sounds like fun. Now give me your address and telephone number. . . .”

Back home that evening, Stevie had second thoughts about accepting a date with Mark Farrell. In her bedroom, she undressed, tossing her cotton blouse, bra, and panties into the clothes hamper, then made her way to the bathroom to take a shower. It was only a date, after all. She didn't intend to marry the guy.

What if Galan discovered she was seeing another man? She paused as she stepped into the stall and turned the faucet on. Hey, a little bit of jealousy might be a good thing. Right, she thought, soaping face and arms, working on down to her stomach and legs. Jealousy might be a very good thing.