A Vampire's Promise (7 page)

The rational part of my brain said this couldn't be happening because for Gabriel to do such a thing would require passing my physical body through the table. A table that was bolted to the floor, thank you very much. My irrational side, however, simply told me to shut-the-fuck-up. The booth, the table, the sad waitress who continued to stare longingly at Gabriel like he was the special at an all-you-can-eat buffet, everything would be gone if I would only open my eyes and look. So I did. And it was.

Gabriel was holding me in his arms, and as in any worthwhile fantasy, we were both naked. I could feel the warmth of his skin pressed against me, the smooth firmness of his chest against my more than ample one, the muscles that rippled and flexed beneath my touch. His thigh was wedged inside my open stance, with his erection pressed against my belly.

I gasped at the feel of him, too intimidated to actually lower my eyes, and he kept one hand pressed firmly against my lower back so I wouldn't be tempted to move away. I looked up at him. His mane of white hair appeared to be longer than before. Caught on a breeze I could not feel, it drifted around us like a sensual blanket. I stared in wonder, and then amazement, as I watched his eyes change.

The cobalt had now totally bled out, obliterating the white completely, and his pupils began to transform themselves. They were no longer black, but a brilliant gold. If I was supposed to be afraid, then I was going to seriously disappoint someone, because I wasn't. Intuitively I knew Gabriel would never harm me. Instead I felt this was exactly where I was supposed to be, and the sense that we had met before returned. Only it was much stronger this time.

You know who I am.

The words came at me again, the voice filling my head, trying to shake free a memory that lay buried inside. Only I didn't know who the memory belonged to, or what it might do to me once it was recovered. So I tossed the voice out of my head, smiling a little at the sense of frustration that it left behind.
Yeah, you and me both, buddy.

Turning my attention back to Gabriel, I concentrated on the strength I could feel pulsing through him, a strength woven with a desire that shattered any doubts I had about reciprocal physical attraction. Whatever was flowing through Gabriel went beyond the uninhibited need to possess me bodily. Stronger than anything I had ever known, it was something deeper. The breath caught in my throat, and my legs trembled, the wetness between them a release of my desire, my need for him. Shamelessly I rubbed myself against him, letting him catch the scent of my arousal, feeling him respond with a thrust of his hips.

If I thought my need of him was intense, it was nothing compared to how he wanted me. Every thick, gloriously hard inch of him throbbed impatiently, demanding to get inside me and show how any hunger I had would be satisfied. I gasped, sucking in a great mouthful of air, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips against mine, wanting his tongue inside my mouth, taking everything I had to give him before he—

“Rowan, are you all right?”

The sound of his voice, along with the stroke of his fingers across the back of my hand, jerked me back from the edge of the sexual mirage I had stepped into. Snatching my hand away, I sent my empty coffee cup spinning wildly across the table while I blinked frantically and looked around me. My mouth was open, I was practically panting, and I could feel perspiration on my upper lip. My breasts felt achy, my nipples hard, and a wave of longing throbbed at my core. What the hell had just happened?

A wild glance showed everything was just as it had been before. The table between us remained bolted to the floor with the plastic menus neatly stacked behind the sugar and ketchup bottle. Reaching for my spinning cup, Gabriel set it back on the saucer in front of me. My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips. Noticing, he signaled to the waitress to bring me a glass of water.

“What happened?” I asked, staring intently across the table.
Were his pupils ringed with gold?
I shook my head and blinked. The gold disappeared, and I realized I was still caught up in my fantasy.

“I think you zoned out on me for a moment,” he said gently, knowingly.

“Really?” I pulled at my lower lip with my teeth, not realizing his focus had shifted until I heard an unrecognizable noise coming from him. Whatever it was, it was highly sexual. “That's never happened to me before,” I said quickly, wanting to shift his focus away from my mouth.

“Me either.”

He sounded normal, so I told myself my ears had been playing tricks, fueled, I was certain, by my wanton imagination.

“Where did you go?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” I told him truthfully.

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing. I must have blacked out or something—can you do that sitting up?”

I was babbling and convinced Gabriel knew I wasn't being a hundred percent truthful. But how could I admit I was so attracted to him that my brain had sent me off into fantasy sex land? He gave me an odd look, one that said I didn't need to explain. He knew exactly where I'd been.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yes.” I gave him what I hoped was my most reassuring smile. “Probably just too much caffeine.”

The waitress brought over my water, and I gulped down half the glass before stopping to take a breath. Gabriel raised an eyebrow and gave me a thoughtful stare, and then signaled for the check. The flirty waitress looked positively heartsick that we were leaving together.

“A
re you sure you're okay?” Gabriel asked me again when we were in the car.

I nodded and smiled at him. “Yeah, I'm sure. I think I'm just overtired. It's been a long day.”

“Of course, I'm sorry. It was selfish of me to keep you out so late after you've been working. Sometimes I forget.”

“Forget what?” I chose not to correct him about my working habits. At this point, I'd rather have him think I was a lightweight who couldn't keep her eyes open past two in the morning than have him ask me any more questions about my strange little brain seizure.

“Not everybody's a night owl.”

“Is that what you are, a night owl?”

He nodded. “You could say that.”

“Out of choice or necessity?” I asked.

His hair shimmered in the glow of Francine's dashboard lights. It looked silky and heavy, and I wondered how it would feel in my hand . . . or brushing across my skin.

“Necessity, to begin with.” He glanced over at me. “But now I don't think I could function during the day.”

“Is this because of your job?”

“Partly.”

He was being vague—in the nicest possible way, of course—but I wasn't so out of it that I couldn't tell when a door was being closed on me. This was a man with secrets. Of course, everyone has secrets; it's just that some are similar to keeping a tiger in a cage. You never know how dangerous it is until you rattle the bars. I decided not so much to rattle as to give a little shake.

“What is it you do again?” I asked, with as much innocence as I could muster.

“Oh, this and that.”

Same thing he'd told me earlier. I looked over at him. His face was turned away as he concentrated on merging Francine into traffic. There were more cars on the road at this time of night than I would have guessed.

“Are you in the import-export business?”

I watched his eyebrows pull together in bewilderment. “Why would you think that?”

Movies involving drug dealers—successful ones, that is—always show them working in the import-export business. I figured it was based on something factual because
this and that
was not an occupation. It was a way of telling me not to poke my nose into something that didn't concern me. If he had a legitimate occupation, he would tell me, so all I could do was speculate that he was involved in something that was possibly illegal.

Just because he doesn't want to tell what he does doesn't automatically mean he's a criminal. There are plenty of occupations that, out of necessity, are performed at night.

For some strange reason my inner bitch was taking Gabriel's side. Pursing my lips, I shut her down, even though I admitted the truth of her statement. Maybe I was watching too much TV.

“I have absolutely no idea why I said that,” I said with a smile, leaning my head back against the seat and closing my eyes. “I don't make much sense when I'm tired.”

The rest of the ride back to Rosie's was uneventful, and silent as far as conversation went. I kept my eyes closed because I had a feeling that, given the opportunity, Gabriel might start questioning me again about my blackout. I couldn't say he would, but there was something in his face that made me think he wasn't buying my version of the event.

Through half-closed lids, I saw his long fingers turning the dial on the radio as he searched for a station. His car was a classic, and I thought his sound system might need an upgrade. I changed my mind when the sound of something classical and surprisingly soothing spilled out of the dashboard.

“Too loud?” He took his eyes from the road long enough to glance over at me.

“No, it's lovely.” I graced him with a real smile before turning my head so I could stare out the window, watching the dark night rush past us.

There had been no respite with my eyes closed. Instead, I had been able to reassemble the image of Gabriel holding me in his arms much too clearly. It felt so real I could taste the sweat beading on his chest, hear the steady rhythm of his heart beating, see the fascinating way his eyes changed from normal to . . . I don't know what. The physical hold he had on me leapfrogged to a scale I had never known before. My pelvis suddenly flared with a raw ache, as if reminding me. How was he able to do this to me?

I searched for some sort of rational answer. Was this what people meant when they said they were instantly attracted to someone? Picking up on pheromones that caused a chain reaction directly linked to their libido? Or was I just hallucinating without the help of hormones? I had absolutely no idea. The only certain thing I was able to hold on to was the fact that I have never felt such an overwhelming urge to get inside a guy's pants as I did right now. And I really needed to put some distance between the two of us before I did, or said, something stupid.

Upset at being disregarded, my inner bitch chimed back in, dispensing one last piece of advice.
Men like him don't go out with girls like you . . . and they don't sleep with them either.

 

The neon sign for Rosie's had been turned off, although there were a few lights still shining through the windows. Some last-call drinkers and the bar staff cleaning up would be my guess. I wondered if Miss Juicy was one of them. Saturday was probably a good tip night. I hoped Gabriel didn't want to find out.

Francine slid over the gravel toward the POS, which looked positively forlorn. The monster wheel guardians were long gone, leaving her all alone. Pulling alongside, Gabriel killed the engine and got out. Coming around, he opened my door for me, and even though he'd done it earlier, I was still flattered by the gesture. Most guys these days wouldn't have bothered. I gave him my hand as I got out, moving forward as he shut the door behind me. He gently muscled me back until I was pinned against the car. Tipping his head, he looked down at me, frowning just a little.

“What did I do wrong?”

His question took me by surprise, and I drew in a sharp breath. He was close enough that my breath also caught the scent of him, which made my head spin and my stomach roll in a really good way. I immediately became flustered. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you angry with me?”

I stared back up at him, feeling my own forehead furrow in puzzlement. “I'm not angry with you.”

“Could've fooled me.”

Where the hell was this coming from? He stepped back, and my head began to clear, letting me see the expression on his face clearly. It told me that, as far as he was concerned, there was a problem, one that was escalating. He wasn't going to be satisfied until it had been resolved one way or the other. Trouble was, I had no idea what was going on.

“Why did you shut me down in the car?” He took a step toward me. “And don't give me that bullshit about being tired. I thought we were having a good time.”

“We were—I was!” I protested.

“So why the change in attitude?”

I dropped my eyes, afraid that he would read the truth in them. What was I supposed to say? Looking at you makes me want to see how big the back seat of your car is, especially from a horizontal position? Somehow, I didn't see that going over too well. The only vibe I'd gotten that he was physically attracted to me had come via my little sex fantasy. Sure, he'd held my hand in the movie theater and behaved possessively in front of his Russian pal, but that was a far cry from saying I want to jump your bones. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to look at him. Aw, shit—no fair! He'd folded his arms across his chest.

“Trust me, Gabriel,” I began, “you didn't do anything wrong. The problem is with me—”

The angry, impatient breath he blew out cut me off. Okaaaay. Apparently he didn't much like where I was going with that one. I decided to try a different approach. Honesty. Shit.

“Look, it's been a while since I last went on a date, and to be honest, I never was much good at them to begin with.” I saw his shoulders relax. “When I arrived here tonight I
was
going to tell you the whole date thing was a mistake and we should just forget about it.”

“Then why didn't you?”

“I don't know . . . I honestly didn't think I would have to . . .” He looked puzzled. “I thought you'd be a no-show.”

He looked insulted that I considered him capable of such a thing. “I wouldn't do that,” he said stiffly.

“Yeah, well . . .” I scuffed the toe of my boot in the gravel, kicking up a gray cloud of dust that dulled the polish. Keeping my eyes downcast, I continued. “Anyway, when I got here tonight you didn't really give me a chance to speak, and you still seemed to want to go out with me, so I thought what the hell, let's give it a whirl and see what happens, and . . .”

“And?”

I raised my head. “And I had a good time.” I could see a glint of frustration in his eyes. I didn't blame him. As excuses went, this was pretty lame. I plowed on before he had a chance to stop me. “So much so, it made me nervous. I was opening up to you in ways I've never done before, certainly not on a first date, and I think being so comfortable with you . . . well . . . I'm just not used to it.” He stared at me with a look I couldn't read. “Believe me, Gabriel, you did absolutely nothing wrong.” I shoved my hands in the front pockets of my jeans and hunched my shoulders up to my ears, feeling like I was twelve.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded miserably. “Yeah . . . I'm sure.”

There was a long pause before he said, “Do you promise to tell me if I do?”

My heart skipped a beat, and an unexpected warmth bloomed in my chest. Not the fiery burn-a-warehouse-down-to-the-ground inferno that I had felt before, but more of a nice roasting-marshmallows-over-a-campfire heat. Gabriel had phrased his question in the present tense.

“You can trust me on that one,” I said with a shaky laugh.

Completely at ease, he came forward, his wide shoulders blocking the sight of my car and reminding me just how big he was. “I really had a nice time tonight as well.”

He softened his tone, changing it to a husky whisper that was ten times worse than the liquid silk. I could feel my spine start to liquefy, and I pressed myself back against the Fairlane so I wouldn't fall down. The image I'd seen before in my brain seizure suddenly flashed in my head. I closed my eyes and saw him as he was then, all muscle and golden skin. And very, very naked. I swallowed. He noticed.

“Rowan?” Mild concern sounded just as good delivered in the same husky voice.

“I'm fine, really, I'm fine.” This whole reassuring thing was becoming exhausting.

“Would it be okay if I called you?”

It took me the space of two heartbeats to realize that the planets and stars were in perfect alignment, and the gods were smiling down on me. This really was my lucky night. I didn't know if I was glowing; I felt as if I should be, but I was certain that if not for the couple of tons of steel propping me up, I definitely would have fallen down. My legs were that unsteady.

Gabriel leaned back, watching my face. I couldn't begin to imagine what it was he saw, but I tried to be cool and behave as if stunning men who dripped massive amounts of sex appeal asked to call me all the time. I know I failed miserably.

“Um, that would be nice,” I said, hearing my phone number fall out of my mouth before I could change my mind.

He repeated the string of seven digits once, committing them to memory, and then leaned back toward me. Placing his hands very deliberately on Francine's powder blue roof, he caged me with his body. I reached up and put a palm tentatively on his chest. He was solid, all muscle, and suddenly the idea of seeing him stripped down became nerve-wracking, especially when I thought of how soft my own body was. I made a mental note: first thing Monday morning I was going to join a gym and tone up. Leaning his head a little farther forward, Gabriel brought his mouth to my ear. I found myself hypnotized by the hollow at the base of his throat.

“May I?” he whispered.

I raised my chin so I could look in his eyes. Big mistake. They were huge and luminous, framed by thick, dark blond lashes; I could see shades of green hidden in their depths. I wanted to jump off the edge and drown in them. “May you what?” I must have missed something.

“Kiss you.”

I didn't say anything, I couldn't say anything, but I didn't need to. Gabriel took my silence as implied consent and leaned forward, his mouth on mine. And he knew how to kiss.

I suffered a pang of disappointment when he pulled away, wishing the moment had lasted longer, but when I opened my eyes I saw the look on his face change. It became hungry and wanting. He pulled me into his arms, and I molded myself against him, my arms going up around his shoulders, hard muscles flexing beneath my hands as the powerful strength of his torso pushed back against me.

And this time he really kissed me. It wasn't his eyes I should have been worrying about, it was his tongue. Velvet soft, it teased the corners of my mouth before gliding smoothly inside. Probing gently, he filled me with the promise of things I didn't even know I wanted. Keeping one hand cupped behind my head so I couldn't pull away, he dropped the other to my breast, caressing the fullness as he ran his thumb over my nipple. Even through the shirt and lacey cup of my bra, it burst into life, becoming erect under his guidance, begging for more. His hips surged forward, his spine clenched and his erection pressed itself into me. I felt, rather than heard, him groan in frustration at the barrier of clothing that stood between us.

“
Rowan!
” he murmured urgently against the corner of my mouth.

I didn't know my name could sound so erotic, and it felt good to know I wasn't the only one who wanted to get horizontal. And then the reality of what was happening, what I was hoping for, gave me a wake-up call. Images of my past failures in attempting sex rushed into my brain. Every muscle in my body froze, making Gabriel immediately pull back and stare down at me.