SeduceMe (14 page)

“Goddamn it,” he mumbled angrily. She was human and he
should have been more careful with her. Christ, they’d be lucky if he hadn’t
cracked one—or all—of her ribs.

He rubbed the knot at the back of his neck, hating himself
for hurting her. Hadn’t he sworn he never would?

As he continued to pace and berate himself, he wondered how
far an apology would go. The idea of begging for her forgiveness didn’t even
pacify
him
. How could it possibly satisfy her?

Of course he wouldn’t blame her for being furious with him
or for hating him for causing her pain. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. He’d
been a vampire for over two hundred years—he knew better this! How could he
possibly have thrown out all of his convictions in one night and given into his
desire for a
human
?

But then when she came out of the bathroom, looking as
impeccably put together as she had the moment she’d set foot on the premises,
he knew why he’d taken such a huge risk with her tonight. She was simply
irresistible.

She handed over his shirt and then clutched her purse close
to her breasts. She’d freshened her makeup and lipstick and had brushed her
long, silky curls, draping them over her bare shoulder. She looked
breathtaking, save for the severity of her stance. Her shoulders were squared
and her chin lifted a notch. But her lower lip quivered. And her eyes were
slightly puffy and red.

He really had scared her with the bruises. Maybe even more
so than Jane had with the blood.

He took a step toward her, wanting desperately to take her
in his arms and hold her, but fearing he’d only damage her more.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, though words couldn’t make up for
what he’d done to her.

She shook her head and said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s
really nothing more than what I expected.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “You were expecting this?”

She let out a short, hollow laugh. One that pained him to
hear. “I’m used to it, remember?”

Now he was confused. He reached his hand out to her. “Shana,
I—”

“Please.” She stepped away. “It’s okay. Really. I’ll
survive. I always do.”

She moved briskly past him and walked to the door.

“Wait,” he called out. “You can’t just leave. I don’t want
you to go. I really need to apologize. I feel horrible about—”

“Don’t,” she said, not even looking at him. “I enjoyed the
evening, regardless. I’ll be fine. Just…forget about all of this. Please.”

She pulled the heavy door open and disappeared into the
hallway.

With every fiber of his being, he wanted to run after her.
To beg her forgiveness. To tell her he’d never hurt her like that again. He’d
swear to be more careful with her. Yet at the same time, he knew that was
impossible. She made him ravenous with desire. She drove him absolutely wild
with her sultry smiles and breathy sighs. Everything about her made him want to
crush her to him, as he’d done numerous times because he couldn’t seem to get
close enough to her or deep enough inside her.

Which would just lead to more bruises.

Infuriated, he tossed the shirt into the fireplace, knowing
he’d never get the scent of her out of it. A worthless effort, really, and a
waste of a three-hundred-dollar shirt, because he’d never get the scent of her
out of his nose. Everything about her was engrained on his brain and burned
into his now-confirmed-damned soul. Causing him to be even more tormented than
he’d been
before
he’d had the privilege of making love to her.

He skulked about, irritated and loathing himself, wondering
what the hell to do next. Drake wasn’t the type of man to bury his head in the
sand when something needed to be addressed. Especially something this critical,
this dire. But his rational mind told him it was best to let her walk away.
What did he have to offer her anyway? Pain every time he laid a hand on her,
which of course he wouldn’t be able to resist doing. The need to leave her
friends behind when he moved on every decade so no one noticed he didn’t age.
And, eventually, her mortal death while he continued to live for eternity.
That’s what.

The thought of moving on stayed with him as he dumped out
the rest of the champagne and the ice that had turned into a pool of water in
the chiller. He’d ruminated over the need to pull up stakes if anyone found out
about his or Jane’s existence and now that Shana knew… Maybe it was a good idea
for him to head back to London for a while. Put some distance between him and
the object of his never-ending desire.

He poured a scotch and swirled the amber liquid as he
absently rotated his wrist, seeing nothing but her eyes in the bottom of the
glass.

Too bad it’d take a couple bottles of booze to dull his
senses. Unfortunately, dull wouldn’t be enough. He longed to be completely
numb. Then maybe he wouldn’t still feel her soft hair and her supple skin.
Maybe he wouldn’t smell the intoxicating scent of her arousal and hear the hypnotic
sound of her playful laugh, her sensual begging, her soulful moans.

He had no idea how much time passed as he stared into his
glass and wondered how the hell he was going to recover from experiencing the
most intense physical and emotional pleasure known to man or vampire when he
knew he’d never experience it again. He didn’t know how to move on from here.
The burning desire to see her again made it difficult to decide what was right
and what was wrong—go to her and apologize again, comfort her. Or leave it be
and let her get on with her life without him.

Sensibility told him to let it lie. So he drained his glass
and focused instead on what needed to be done to wrap up his business, shut
down Body Scenes and return to England.

He wasn’t surprised when the security guard stationed at the
elevator that led to his private office phoned him to say Finn Griffith and
Yvette Samson wanted to see him.

Letting out a pained sigh, he said, “Send them up, please.”

He reached for his suit jacket to pull it on, though his
shirt was currently incinerating in the fireplace. He decided it was moot to
put the jacket on—it’d be obvious either way what he’d been up to this evening
and it was doubtful Finn and Yvette were arbitrarily dropping in. They were
friends of Shana’s, so their unexpected visit wasn’t likely coincidental.

Hoping to keep the conversation congenial, he poured two
more scotches and had them in hand as Finn and Yvette entered his office.

His hopes were dashed as Yvette immediately demanded, “What
the hell did you do, Drake?”

Holding his sigh in check, he handed over a glass to Finn,
who accepted it graciously, then set Yvette’s drink on the corner of the desk.
He said, “That’s between me and Shana.”

Yvette, always more than willing to say exactly what was on her
mind, told him, “I just saw her downstairs. She was clearly upset, though she
wouldn’t tell me why. What happened when she was with you?”

“I assure you, I—”

“She couldn’t get out of this club fast enough, Drake!”
Yvette’s temper flared. “She wouldn’t even wait for Finn’s driver. She rushed
out and grabbed the first cab that pulled up to the curb, practically climbing
in before the other people had even gotten out of it!”

His jaw clenched. He really didn’t need someone else to tell
him how deeply he’d hurt Shana. He’d seen the bruises himself and was suffering
every conceivable consequence for being the one who’d inflicted them upon her.
But he’d obviously also upset her emotionally and that was even more
disheartening.

For as territorial as he felt toward her, it’d take all the
willpower he possessed not to maim anyone who harmed her. So it was the worst
damn feeling in the world to know
he
was the one who’d done it.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out, but again, that’s between
Shana and—”

Very unexpectedly, Yvette stepped forward and slapped him
across the face.

“Yvette!” Finn grabbed her around the waist and pulled her
backward, stepping in front of her so he was between her and Drake.

Not that Drake would ever hit a woman, but Finn apparently
intended to take any potential retaliation for his girlfriend. One more thing
he admired about Finn. He also adored Yvette and was more than willing to
overlook the slight.

In fact, he said, “I deserved that. Not that I would ever
intentionally hurt Shana. Please believe me. I’m very enamored by her.”

Oh Christ, what an understatement that was!

But it seemed to catch Yvette’s attention and quell her
temper at the same time. “I don’t understand. If you’re so fond of her, why did
she say you don’t find her attractive?”

He stared at her, his eyes bulging. “
What?
”

Yvette said, “She was devastated and her eyes were bloodshot
as though she’d been crying. I asked her what happened with you and, I mean…
You knew she was a virgin, right?”

His eyes rolled. Hardly the conversation to be having with
Finn and Yvette. In a dour tone, he replied, “It was brought to my attention.”

“Then how could you have taken advantage of her?” This from
Finn, who seemed genuinely surprised his friend would do such a thing.

“In my defense,” Drake started to say, but then turned away
and stalked over to the wet bar to pour himself another drink. There was no
defense for what he’d done this evening.

He’d worshipped Shana White from afar and it should have
stayed that way. He’d given into Jane’s desire to “help” the woman because
she’d connected with Shana’s soul and had felt something tragic dwelled within
Shana that she and Drake could somehow miraculously cure. And it almost seemed
as though they had released her from her demons as she’d so freely given
herself to them and allowed herself to experience the pleasure they wanted to
bring her.

But his passion had been too forceful, too aggressive, too
powerful. And he’d ended up hurting her. So what
was
his defense? He had
nothing.

“Look,” he said as he turned back to his friends. Ones he
would miss when he moved back to London. “I regret certain things about this
evening.” Making love to Shana was not one of those things. He’d enjoyed it too
much to possibly ever regret the actual act and the pleasure they’d both
derived from it. “But I can’t explain them to you. It’s not anything you’d
understand.”

“She specifically said,” Yvette told him, “that she had the
most wonderful night of her life. ‘The most beautiful experience’ were her
exact words. And then you seemed to snap out of whatever euphoric haze you’d
been in, took one look at her and suddenly decided you didn’t want her anymore.
Seriously, Drake! How could you be so callous?”

He stared at her a moment, her words hitting all new
chords—and they weren’t lyrical ones. His usually quick mind slowly processed
what she was saying to him and he was certain he stared dumbfounded at her.

Finally, he said, “She left because she thought I didn’t
want
her anymore?”

Yvette’s eyes narrowed on him. “She said you gave her a
disgusted look when you saw her naked.”

“Oh bloody hell.” He slammed his glass down on the desk,
surprisingly not breaking it, which was what he’d thought he’d do if he
continued to grip it so tightly. He considered what his reaction had been when
he’d glanced down and seen the bruises on Shana’s body—caused by him. He’d been
admiring her body one moment and kicking himself in the ass the next. And that
latter expression was the one she’d seen.

“Son of a bitch.” He let out a low growl. “She completely
misunderstood. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t what she thought. Fuck!” He knew how
self-conscious she was of her body. How difficult it had been to let go of her
inhibitions, to let him undress her. She was self-conscious and what she’d seen
when he’d been so disgruntled over having hurt her physically was not a look of
disgust directed toward
her
. But that’s how she’d taken it.

“Great,” he muttered. “That’s just fucking great.” Not only
had he injured her body, he’d damaged her pride.

“Umm, what exactly happened tonight?” Yvette asked, suddenly
looking contrite. “Because I’m getting the impression it’s not what I thought.”

Finn rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m guessing this is a
case of jumping the gun.”

“Hey,” Yvette snapped, “when my friend is devastated and
this
close
to bursting into tears and can’t get away from a man fast enough,
that sends up red flags.” To Drake she said, “You hurt her. Somehow you hurt
her feelings. I can clearly see by your reaction that it wasn’t intentional,
but
she
doesn’t know that. She was totally destroyed. So much so, it
broke
my
heart.”

Which basically broke his, knowing how much he’d distressed
Shana, even though that was something he’d never willingly do.

Giving Yvette an earnest look, he asked, “How do I fix
this?”

“Go talk to her.”

He groaned. Picking up his drink again, he took a few sips,
hating that the alcohol wouldn’t help to salve the sting. Equally frustrating
was the fact that he knew couldn’t go talk to her. Yes, he wanted to. But he
was back to acknowledging that he wasn’t the man Shana deserved. He wasn’t a
man at all. He was a vampire. It would be detrimental to them both if he didn’t
accept that—no matter how she’d made him feel earlier. Regardless of the fact
that he’d felt more alive when he was inside her than he’d ever felt before
he’d been turned.

To Yvette, he simply said, “She’s better off without me.”

Yvette fumed. Finn took her by the arm and told her, “We
should go.”

She didn’t protest. But she did say, “I shouldn’t have
slapped or accused you. I hope you can forgive me.”

Drake shook his head. “There’s nothing to forgive. This
whole thing is my doing, my fault. I just want you to know that I feel very
deeply for Shana. I wouldn’t hurt her on purpose.”