Coveted - Book 3 in the Gwen Sparks Series (17 page)

“Where are we going?” I mumbled, squinting to see my surroundings. We were on a narrow road bordered on either side with businesses. Above, wrought iron balconies hugged the buildings and were full of lush greenery.

“Home,” Dorian said. “It’s just around the corner.”

My vision blurred in and out of clarity, but I kept my feet moving and allowed Dorian to guide me in the right direction. I rubbed my cheek against the soft leather of his coat, inhaling the scent. The clicking of metal against metal sounded. I lifted my head and looked forward. Dorian held open a gray door with wrought iron detailing.

“Here,” Dorian said grabbing something from my arms. I realized after the thing was gone that he had taken my cat and placed her inside the home. Snaking an arm around my back, Dorian bent down and lifted me into his arms, cradling me against his body. I stared up at him, the strong outline of his jaw, the softness of his brown hair and the fullness of his lips. I hadn’t realized how afraid I was when he left until he came back. Though he had only been gone for a day, the fear that I would never see him again surprised me.

We reached a landing but he didn’t put me down. Instead, he carried me through the home and down a long hallway where we entered a bedroom. My eyelids were heavy and my vision was getting fuzzier the longer I tried to focus on any one thing. My limbs felt boneless and weak as they hung limp in Dorian’s arms.

Dorian laid me down on a bed and began slipping my shoes off. He drew the thick comforter up around my body and then turned to leave the room. I watched his silhouette getting further and further away as I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

My eyes fluttered open, and I stared up at the high ceiling of an unfamiliar room. I looked around. Toward the left was a wall of tall, arched windows. The sky was dark which meant I had slept all day. For all I knew I’d slept for multiple days. Lights from outside cast shadows to dance around the large room, making it seem more menacing than it probably was. A large armoire rested on the adjacent wall, antiquated and beautiful, and a large circular mirror hung on the next wall. The room was large, but mostly bare of furniture.

Slipping my legs over the edge of the bed, I braced my hands on either side of me and closed my eyes as I thought about what had happened. Dorian came back and cloaked figures were stalking me. I didn’t know whether I should be happy about Dorian’s return or afraid of more evil rogues hunting me. A mixture of emotions consumed me, but at the moment I would concentrate on the good ones.

Standing up, I hugged my arms across my chest and padded out of the room. A long hallway of gray stretched in either direction. There were two doors made of dark wood to the right. To the left there were two more doors and the opening of the hall. I chose left. As I got closer to the entrance soft music and a large, rectangular living room greeted me. I recognized the hauntingly beautiful piano melody as Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. It had been one of my favorites since I was fifteen.

Coming around the corner, I saw Dorian’s large frame sitting on a black, leather sofa. He was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as his head rested in his hands. His chocolate hair formed a curtain around his face. An amber filled crystal glass sat on the thick wooden coffee table in front of him.

“How are you feeling?” Dorian’s smooth voice carried across the room though he hadn’t spoken very loudly. My heart jolted that he knew I was watching him, but he made no movement to look at me.

“Okay,” I said closing the space between us while I looked around the room. It seemed his entire house was painted in varying shades of gray. The living room was dark, the color of angry thunderclouds. Wrought iron sconces clung to the wall every six feet casting a warm golden glow against the cherry hardwood floors. A kitchen sat toward the back of the room and was made up of one row of upper and base cabinets with frosted glass doors. A granite island separated the two rooms.

“Now I know why you thought my apartment was shit,” I joked. Five of my tiny apartments would have fit in this place.

“If you need to take a shower, the bathroom is at the end of the hall. There’s a closet of women’s stuff in your room if you need to change your clothes. They’ll have to do until tomorrow.”

I didn’t want to know why Dorian had a supply of women’s clothes, nor did I want to wear his one-night stands’ castoffs. I was standing next to him now, unsure whether I should sit or not. He seemed like he was in a bad mood.

I sat down beside Dorian and smiled when I saw my cat curled up on the cushion next to him. “Thank you…again,” I said. He didn’t respond or look up at me. Ignoring my annoyance, I said, “I’ve always loved this song.”

Dorian reached for his glass, taking a drink before leaning back against the sofa. When he looked at me his face was devoid of any emotion. “I’m going to head to bed.” He finished off the glass, stood up and walked around me and to the kitchen. Turning around, I watched him put the glass in the sink and head toward the hallway.

“Dorian,” I called out, confused and angry. He stopped but didn’t turn to face me. Scrambling off the couch I walked over to him and, without thinking, wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him. His body went stiff, unwilling to embrace me back. A door opened, and I stepped away from Dorian. A tall woman with brunette hair exited the far room. She was dressed in a long t-shirt that hung mid-thigh. She giggled when she spotted us staring at her.

“Bathroom?”

“Last door,” Dorian said.

Everything inside of me felt like it had been crushed. My lungs constricted as air tried to fight its way through. Angry and embarrassed, I stepped away from Dorian, turning my back to him. We weren’t a couple in the least so I didn’t want him to see the hurt and jealousy on my face. I had been so stupid to allow another man to weave his way into my psyche. Maybe the reason I kept getting hurt was because I allowed it to happen. I knew as soon as I met Dorian that he hopped from bed to bed. Hell, he’d even told me so himself. So why was I surprised to see a half dressed woman in his home? The more I thought about it the more I realized I was madder at myself then him.

“Listen, Gwen—”

“No explanation needed,” I said interrupting him. Turning around, I smiled though I felt like crying. “Good catch. She’s pretty.” Dorian glanced away, unable to look at me any longer. “Well, goodnight.” I headed for the sofa, willing myself to stay strong and not breakdown in front of him. The sound of his footsteps disappeared down the hall and then a door closed. I sat on the edge of the couch, unable to decipher the change in Dorian’s personality. He wasn’t the man I’d come here with. This man was distant and cold—detached. The door opened and closed again, but I tried not to think about the leggy woman sharing Dorian’s bed. It was none of my business.

A set of French doors led out to a balcony. Heading to the kitchen, I grabbed the first bottle of alcohol I could find and headed through the doors, shutting them quietly behind me. I should have probably eaten something, but my appetite was gone. The balcony was actually a rooftop patio. A wrought iron fence surrounded the entire perimeter. Terracotta pots with blooming flowers sat in the corners. A square table rested in the middle, surrounded by padded chairs. I made my way over to it, sat down and propped my legs up. Unscrewing the bottle, I took a long drink and choked back the burn crawling down my throat. I tried to think about anything except for Dorian and what he could be doing at the moment.

I took another drink from the bottle, sat it down and stood up. Walking over to the edge, I leaned against the railing and stared down at the crowded street. My eyes roamed over the French inspired architecture and I realized we were in New Orleans. I had only seen it in movies, but it looked exactly the same. I smiled as a couple of women stumbled their way down the sidewalk laughing like hyenas. It must be nice to be carefree and human. They had it so easy. At the moment, it made me miss Fiona. I hadn’t talked to her in almost two weeks. I hoped she was having more fun than I was and that her new relationship with the judgmental Ethan was working out. I didn’t like him but he seemed to make my best friend happy and that was the only thing that mattered. I made a mental note to call her tomorrow and catch up.

As I stared out onto the crowded street I found myself falling in love with the vibrant city. There were all sorts of characters to be seen; it was like a
Where’s Waldo
book come to life. One man was dressed in all black with a skeleton mask covering his face while he posed for pictures with tourist. Another man was painted entirely silver, sitting on a milk crate against a restaurant wall. I smiled watching these two free spirits. They weren’t concerned with what the world thought of them and I loved that. Too many times society played a major role in making our decisions for us. In New Orleans, the residents were true to themselves. I could learn a thing or two from them.

Morning came sooner than I wanted. I hadn’t gotten to sleep until around four. My face was plastered against Dorian’s leather sofa, a thin coating of drool on my lips. Sitting up, I wiped my arm across my mouth and grumbled at the bright sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Morning,” Dorian said from behind me. I turned, brushing my hair out of my eyes. Most of last night had been spent thinking about him and his houseguest, when I wasn’t thinking about Aiden and our bond. I could be the poster girl for chaos and drama.

Dorian’s hair was wet, his white t-shirt snug against his chest and two cups of coffee in his hands. I silently wondered if he was bringing
her
breakfast in bed. He answered my question when he walked into the living room and sat a mug down in front of me, taking the empty seat across from the coffee table. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses so I had a clear view of the cloudy abyss of his eyes.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, lifting the cup and taking a small drink. I couldn’t look at him without thinking about what he might have done last night; so I focused on the house. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting. Everything had a place and nothing was out of order. On the far wall hung colorful prints of jazz musicians and a large flat screen television hung. The entire place had cherry hardwood floors. A staircase was to the left of the living room, leading down to the front door.

“I thought about something last night,” I ended up saying when the silence began making me uncomfortable.

“Yeah?”

I nodded, glancing briefly at Dorian and then away. “Yeah. Aiden’s eyes didn’t turn blue. I mean they’re blue anyway, but they didn’t turn the electric blue they do when a vampire drinks our blood.”

“Oh yeah,” Dorian said, his voice complacent.

I nodded again, still uncomfortable. Was the woman still here? Would she come out in one of his t-shirts and nothing else? And why did I care?

“Something bothering you?”

“Huh?” I looked up.

Dorian signaled with his head to my hands. “You’ve got a pretty tight grip on the sofa.”

I glanced at my hands, releasing the cushions from my death grip. “No, just thinking. It must mean that the NAWC has restored the spell that protects our blood. Otherwise why wouldn’t his eyes change? And why haven’t they called me, or Fiona for that matter? If—”

“Gwen.” Dorian’s voice cut through my ramble.

“Huh?”

“Why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”

I pursed my lips and feigned innocence. “There’s nothing I want to know.” I took another drink, burning my tongue in the process. Standing, I stretched and asked, “Bathroom?”

Dorian lifted his arm and pointed down the hall. “Second door on the left.”

“I’m going to take a shower. Where’s my bag?”

“First door on the right.”

My head bobbed, and I headed for the hallway.

“Gwen?”

“Hmm?” I didn’t turn around. Instead I looked over my shoulder, pissed that Dorian looked so tempting this early in the morning. His feet were bare and his entire body seemed relaxed. I was trying really hard not to think of why.

He stood up and walked over to where I was. “About last night—”

I held up my hand. “You don’t have to explain. We’re friends, right?”

Dorian nodded. “Yeah, but it’s more than that. I need to get my head straight to gain my sight again. This,” he signaled to me and then himself. “whatever it is, puts your life in danger. Without knowing when you’re in trouble or going to die, I’m useless to you.”

“It’s cool, seriously. Do yothang.” I turned on my heel and sped walked down the hallway. Only when I closed the bedroom door did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“
Do yothang?” I whispered to myself, embarrassed beyond belief.

Pull your head out of your ass, Gwen.
I may have even pulled out the finger guns, which only made me cringe with more humiliation.

I spent a good forty-five minutes under the hot spray of the shower before the water began running cold. Sluggishly I dressed in a pair of jeans and green henley. I had gotten four hours of sleep, but my body felt depleted. Running a comb through my hair, I wrung out the excess water and picked up my old clothes, rolling them into a ball and exiting the bathroom.