Born Into Love (8 page)

In a shocking move he returned their stares and added a smile. A second later he sent a bottle of cabernet to their table.

Mercedes mouth dropped. “Why’d you do that?” Diego cut into a steak so rare that blood mixed with his potatoes. She grimaced.

“See?” he said. “You are free to wear that horrified
expression over my chosen entree, but poor Ms. Rogers, she is a nice person conned into eating lunch with a serpent and his gangster babysitter. She needs a delicious wine to ease her palate.”

Mercedes laughed but couldn’t stop staring at Diego’s plate. “How can you eat that?”

“No choice. I need my strength.”

“May I suggest supplements?”

“Once again I have managed to charm you.”

“Yes, you have.” She intended to sound playful but her comment held the ring of truth. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the heat rushing to her cheeks? “The sole melted in my mouth, but I can’t stay long and I want to call Annie. By the way, you have an unopened pitcher waiting below.”

* * *

“Really? Tell me about it.”

Mercedes ticked off a description and included other pieces.
Diego recalled some as items he and his brother had used. Items he should have left behind.

“Should I send the pitcher to radiography? I heard a faint sound when I handled it. We have a mystery on our hands.”

“I am sure it contains nothing important. Probably shells. The item is something given to me a long time ago.” Days he did not want to relive.

How could
he explain? Tell Mercedes that the gift spent hundreds of years bundled away in his castle? Forgotten because he wanted to forget. A sudden unease caught up with him. Perhaps he should examine it, but in the privacy of his own home. “I will arrange to have it returned to the house.”

“And then you’ll have it opened?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think is inside?”

“I suspect it contains something moldy and dank.”

“You’re no fun.” Her fingers tapped a beat on the table.

“You are anxious to revisit the ceramics.”

“Yes, but I’ll be thinking of you.”

“What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“Dr. Mendez arranged a direct donation at the blood bank. I’ll be their first customer.”

“I will drive you.”

“Please, Diego. I can’t accept.”

“I am not doing it for you. I am helping Annie.” Mercedes’ lips pursed like a gathering of rose petals.

“No wonder you do so well in business. You’ve cornered me.”

“Is that so horrible?” Her gaze rested in his. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“Oh yes.”

The loveliest rose tint painted her cheeks. He admitted to enjoying her blushes. He wanted to sweep her away to a spring fed oasis and feed her ripe dates. “I will accept your response as a good thing until you tell me differently.”

He
escorted her out of the dining area, all the time feeling Remy and the goon’s eyes on his back. Such awareness was not a vampire gift. When mortal, he always knew when and where an enemy lurked. Unfortunately the ability failed against the treachery of the sorcerer.

“Mercedes, I have several A-type investment managers to visit downtown. Shall we meet at the entrance at closing time?”

“Sounds perfect.”

In the pupils of her eyes
he caught his human reflection. An ache grew in his heart. How would she react when she learned he was a shell? A problem he would soon have to face, but his immediate concern was nausea.

She walked away and
he hurried to the men’s room. The blood of the animal that served as his lunch did not register as the greatest problem, but the flesh. The inability to digest food was the most humiliating reminder that he existed as something other than Mercedes’ dream man. Being sick to one’s stomach was more dramatic for him than for humans. When his bout ended, his only consolation came from having no witnesses.

He
washed his face and when he glanced up, Remy and the thug entered. Diego hid his condition with a smile and a squaring of his shoulders. Had he not faced down surly mariners and greedy compadres? “Not satisfied with stalking my neighbor, you now seek me?”

Remy’s luncheon partner leaned against the bathroom door preventing anyone from entering. Procteur moved to the sink next to
Diego and washed his hands.

“What I can’t figure out Castilla, is how your family history makes sense.”

“Ask a genealogist.”

A smirk smoothed his lips. “I have. He’s at a loss.”

“Don’t look at me. I wasn’t around till thirty-five years ago.” The number he had selected worked well enough because of its proximity to the age when he actually died.

“Too bad your parents vanished at sea.” He hesitated. “Your only relatives are missionaries in the Amazon?
Does that sound right to you?”

“They were. They passed away last year with a fever.”

“Why is it so hard to find the female line of your fabulous family? Tell me that.”

The weakness passed. “Get out of my way.”

Procteur sidestepped like a cabaret dancer. “Know what I think? You’re up to your eyeballs in crime. What’re you hiding? If you were trafficking in drugs, I’d know. Maybe you’re a spy?”

Someone in a hurry banged on the door. Using his thick torso, Procteur’s buddy pushed off from the door. Remy narrowed his icy eyes. “You’re a crook and I’m going to cut myself in.”

If nothing else, his verb usage showed promise. Diego walked to the door, pulled it open so the anxious gentleman on the other side could use the facilities. He stepped into a small foyer and waited for their attack. Remy and associate did not follow.

After that encounter,
the business meeting rated as anticlimactic. Diego went where his heart yearned to be—down to the museum workshop. Mercedes turned the key in the cabinet and did not glance his way.

“I recognized your footfall. You strike a little harder with one foot.”

An Inca lance had pierced his calf. Because of his situation, his body had no scars, but he favored the leg because his past played games with him. “I should have gotten here sooner. I could have seen the pieces.”

Mercedes hesitated. “Want to examine them?”

“No.”

“Not even the pitcher?”

He had not seen the artifacts in ages another twenty-four hours would not matter. “Tomorrow will be soon enough.”

By the time
they approached Mercedes’ home her energy waned. He escorted her to the door. “If you would like a swim later, you would be welcome.”

“I don’t know.
It depends.”

He
hid his disappointment and she said good-bye. Daylight always took a toll. His body ached and nothing could cure it but darkness and cold stone. When he entered the house, Luz escorted him to his chamber. A bowl filled with cattle blood rested on a carved granite table that belonged in a proper garden. He drank and settled his body onto his resting place. Grains from the village where he’d lost the most important battle of his life kneaded the muscles of his back.

Several hours later
he surprised Luz as she reached for another DVD. “Master, will you join me?”

“I must leave. Should Mercedes arrive, entertain her.” Luz seemed puzzled.

“I intended to say something about her, but it’s slipped my mind.”

“Do not fret. What happened when you checked on Annie?”

“As instructed by the doctor, she stayed lying down. We had orange juice and watched deliverymen return three tables and four chintz armchairs that had been refurbished. Not the fabric I would have chosen. She spoke with a man on the phone. I heard his voice.”

“I met him. He has known evil.”

Luz nodded. “Doesn’t matter what century we’re in. A good man is still hard to find.”

* * *

Mercedes slid into a newly delivered chair and admired the fabric. “Great print.”

Annie startled. “Hurry! Baby’s kicking.”

Mercedes placed her hand on her sister’s belly. “I love it when he does this. Little guy’s going to be a soccer dude like his auntie.”

Mercedes couldn’t think of a way to segue a transfusion into the conversation so she opted for a direct route. “I’m donating tomorrow.”

“Great.”

“Diego’s offered to take me to the clinic. Maybe I can arrange with the museum to officially change my hours so we’ll have one less concern.”

“Think they’ll cooperate?”

“I’ll ask.”

“Got plans for the evening?”

“I’m accepting Diego’s offer of a swim.”

Annie perked up. “I guess hobnobbing with the elite suits you.”

“He’s a gentleman and he’s kind.” Mercedes steamed veggies and set the oven to bake a frozen pizza. “Remy Procteur’s the low-life. I’m not going to let him catch me unprepared again.”

Annie leaned closer. “Remy? Who’s he?”

When Mercedes finished, Annie shook her head. “Just imagine what would’ve happened if you’d beaned him with one of those ancient pots.”

“I’d’ve lost the opportunity of a lifetime and ruined something precious.”

Annie yawned. “I’ll eat upstairs.
This body wants to hit the sack. Let me know if anything interesting happens in that pool.”

“Wait. How was Luz? You two get along?”

“Yup. Sometimes she seems a bit spacey, but she makes me laugh.

“Why?”

“Nothing in particular. Just her ways. I think she forgot to send a fax.” Annie headed for the hall. “I told her there’s always tomorrow. Sleep tight.”

Mercedes rooted through dresser drawers for another swimsuit. She found it and bent forward to adjust the red top. She tugged the bottom and grabbed another wrap. Strange thing about bikinis: on a crowded beach they didn’t attract much attention, but with a couple, alone? Another thing entirely.

She fluffed her hair, grabbed a white beach towel from the linen closet on the first floor and walked to the back of the house looking forward to the onshore breeze. From the top of a dune, his house loomed huge. The upper floor had lights on and she wondered if he was changing into a swimsuit.

The night swirled around her full of promise. Her stomach turned to hiccupping butterflies and her steps quickened as she followed the lighted path to his secluded back yard. Someone had left the gate open for her.

But things were not as expected. No Diego.

She glanced at her watch—-ten o’clock. Just when she started to rethink the visit, he stepped out of a shadow. The lanterns surrounding the pool snapped to life.

“You scared me. I didn’t see you.”

“Please forgive my tardiness.” He pointed to the pool area and the water lit from below. “You go ahead. I will join you shortly.”

Mercedes eased onto a cushioned lounge chair. Diego hadn’t scanned her outfit. He’d looked into her eyes. It hadn’t been soul-searching. They’d both been caught off-guard.

As the minutes ticked, she grew restless. Watching for movement at the windows facing the pool proved fruitless. The summer curtains, although made from a white gauzy material, didn’t allow for snooping. She called to the house. “I’m going in.”

First the water chilled her, then cushioned. Buoyant, she took a few strokes and landed in middle of the pool waist-level. Diego came out of the house wearing trunks. He walked to the deep end.

He offered the perfect blend of muscle on bone. In the soft patio lights his arms, legs and chest showed uncoerced definition. His proportioned legs left her with the impression he’d spent a lifetime on a bike.

He dove in and slowly swam to her. “Do you always assess men so thoroughly?”

“First time I’ve had a chance to. . . .”

“Get acquainted?” He stood next to her.

“Something
like that.” The sky seemed too close and the heavy air made her think of the tropics. “What happened to the breeze?”

“We are not going to need it. The water is cool.”

“Are you wearing cologne?”

“From the Amazon. Luz prepares it.”

“Potent.”

“Let’s not talk.” His hand freed the wet hair she’d tucked behind her ears. “We have urgent business.”

“I know.”

He led her to a depth where the water rode her shoulders. He drew her closer. She linked her hands behind his neck, pausing to feel his loose dark hair under her fingertips. His lips closed over hers. She met him with an emotion that danced along her skin.

His touch sent a cascade of joy through her body. His whispered words tinged with emotion flew away, lost to her in a surrender she willing gave and a shared intimacy she needed. Reluctant to part, they held each other tightly as if to keep even the air from parting them. He swept her into his arms and carried her out of the water onto a thick blanket.