Cursed Kiss (Paranormal Romance) (11 page)

Monique tapped a fingernail on the table between them, her expression hardening. "On the subject of taking over…Edward was supposed to become president of Moray."

Her tone had changed, grown dangerous. Clare had not expected to have to justify her actions to her grandmother. "I was the majority shareholder. I saw no reason not to take the top job. Do you have a problem with my decision?"

The moment of tension stretched until Clare almost couldn't bear it, then Monique's face relaxed. "It made things slightly more difficult than expected, but if you're stronger than Edward, I want you in charge." Monique's eyebrows rose. "He's angry, of course, but that doesn't matter."

"You've been in contact with Edward?" As the question left her mouth, she realized that of course the two of them were in cahoots. That made sense and explained Edward's superior attitude. But it still didn't explain why her grandmother had faked her death to come here and why she'd left her precious company in the hands of others. Then another thought occurred to her, one that made her anger rise.

"Is there really a problem with the Taldom's blood additive, or did you fake that to manipulate me?"

"I prefer the word motivate."

"Manipulate, motivate, whatever." Clare gestured in irritation. "You set me up to find Luka and send him back here, didn't you? Oh, and by the way, I refuse to put his blood in our products anymore. I can't believe you did that."

Monique ignored her tirade and sniffed the red flower. "I love this scent." She held out the bloom to Clare.

It smelled like overripe fruit. Sickly, on the edge of rotten.

"This is called Red Death." Monique stroked the red petals across her cheek. "Handled carelessly, the flower is deadly. But when heated in water to just below boiling point, it's possible to generate a mother tincture that has incredible properties as you can see." She patted the smooth skin of her cheek. "First we'll add it to Faceglo, then I've plans for a new formulation called Bodyglo. It'll be a license to print money."

Using a plant extract in Faceglo was preferable to using blood, but there had to be a catch. "Any side effects?"

Monique dropped the stem on the table and framed her face with her hands like a fifties model. "Do you see any problems?"

There was no doubt her grandmother looked great, but she'd said the plant was deadly when handled carelessly. "It'll take years of research to develop a product we can bring to the market safely."

Monique's dreamy gaze hardened. "You let Edward deal with that side of things. He'll update us tomorrow."

Clare felt her jaw go slack. "Edward's here?"

"No, but he comes when I call him. The three of us can sit down together and do some planning."

There was so much to take in, facts and questions spun around Clare's head. She hardly knew what to think anymore. Despite that, her thoughts kept going back to Luka as if he were an anchor.

"You set it up so I'd bring Luka here. Why?"

"Enough questions for now." Monique rose and clapped her hands. All conversation ceased abruptly. Her gaze traveled over the guests. Some returned Monique's appraisal, most looked away, a few fidgeted. "It's time for some entertainment. Who's going to oblige me?" Slowly Monique's gaze drifted back and settled on Pablo. "Ah, the Spaniard."

An almost imperceptible sigh of relief whispered from the other guests.

Clare snapped to full attention, no idea what was about to happen but sure she wouldn't like it.

Monique rose and trailed a finger over the back of Pablo's chair. "Have you ever seen a bullfight, Clare, darling? I love the way those matadors strut around in their tight pants and nifty little jackets."

Pablo's shoulders hunched and he slid lower in his seat.

"The Spanish bullfighters wear crimson so the blood doesn't show when they're gored." Monique laughed. "Such dedication to the performance."

Everyone had stopped eating, a sense of morbid expectation hanging in the air.

"You'll oblige us, won't you, Pablo. Stand up."

He became preternaturally still like an animal caught in headlights.

Clare met his gaze across the table. "You don't have to," she said.

"Of course he will. Anything to please an old friend, isn't that right?" She brushed a hand over his hair and he cringed away. All the blood had drained from his face, giving his olive skin a sickly hue.

"Can't you see he's not feeling well?" Clare was on her feet and moving around the table before she had time to consider her actions. She didn't want to incur her grandmother's wrath any more than the next person, but she couldn't sit back and see Pablo intimidated.

Monique gestured to a group of musicians in a gallery at the end of the room. The first strains of a melody floated into the taut silence.

"Clear a space on the table," she commanded. Some of the men stood and swept the platters, goblets, and plates aside, leaving a cleared area of polished wood. "Climb up there." She shoved Pablo's shoulder.

"No, stop this." Clare grabbed Pablo's arm, holding him in place.

Monique turned her cold blue gaze on Clare in warning. "You're quite at liberty to join him if you like, darling."

Clare froze. She hadn't expected that from Monique and didn't know how to respond.

"I thought not." Monique dismissed Clare with a flick of her fingers. "Go and sit down and stop interfering."

Clare owed her grandmother a lot. She'd rescued her from a miserable existence and given her a fresh start and a new life. Even so, Clare had soon learned that Monique was not a kind and sympathetic relative.

Every instinct Clare possessed told her to sit down, but she'd promised Pablo she would stay with him and she would. She met his gaze and nodded. With a look of surprise, he rose slowly to his feet. "Okay," she said, to her grandmother, "we're ready. What is this, karaoke or something?"

Monique stared at her for a moment, her mouth open in surprise. She snapped her teeth together and her expression hardened. "Pablo is going to strip for us. If you want to help him, then go ahead."

"Strip! You're not serious."

Monique held her gaze steady. She was serious. Monique pointed at the table to indicate they should climb up.

Clare was ready to refuse, but the glint of warning in her grandmother's eyes made the words catch in her throat. If she humiliated the woman here, in front of all these people, there would be consequences. Better to play her little game, make light of it, and get it over with quickly.

Pablo climbed on the chair and up to the table, then extended a hand to help Clare.

It was strange standing above everyone. Far from feeling victimized, this position gave Clare a sense of power. They would put on a show and enjoy themselves. Clare would not allow her grandmother to win.

Pablo seemed to pick up on her attitude. The wariness on his face faded and he smiled. He bowed and she curtsied, then they came together and waltzed down the surface of the long table, knocking aside plates and cups.

Clare hummed along with the melody and Pablo joined her, his smooth steps growing more confident.

"I said strip," Monique shouted down the table.

"I haven't danced in ages and this is so much fun," Clare answered. She caught the eye of a woman who was nodding in time to the music. "Join us, everyone," Clare shouted. "Come on." She reached down and offered her hand to a young man. His gaze shot to Monique, but Clare wasn't about to let go of her advantage. She pasted on her most charming smile and tugged on the man's hand.

Meanwhile, Pablo had invited a pretty young woman up to dance with him. Other couples abandoned the last of their meals and climbed up to join them, laughter and chatter filling the room.

Monique had crossed her arms, her expression thunderous. There would be hell to pay later, but Clare had not lived with Monique for six years without learning a thing or two about handling the woman's foul moods.

The music finished and everyone clapped. As the hilarity died down, Monique continued to clap slowly until it was the only sound in the dining hall.

People scrambled down from the table and resumed their seats, heads ducked like guilty children who'd been caught misbehaving.

Pablo jumped onto a vacant chair and handed Clare down. He held her hand tightly as they returned to the head of the table and took their seats.

Clare drew in a steadying breath and met her grandmother's ice cold blue gaze. For long moments neither spoke, then Monique broke the tense silence. "You think you've spared him, do you?"

"We provided entertainment. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Monique beckoned a burly man wearing a thick leather breastplate and gestured at Pablo. "Take him to my room."

The man grabbed Pablo's arm and pulled him from his chair.

Clare shot out of her seat and hurried around the table to Pablo's side, then kept pace as the man shoved Pablo ahead of him towards the door.

"Clare!" Monique's tone of voice fired warning sparks along Clare's nerves. But she couldn't let Pablo out of her sight.

Monique barked a command and her lackey stopped. Slowly, the woman rose and her shoes tapped a threatening rhythm against the flagstone floor as she approached. Her hand fixed around Clare's arm and her fingernails bit in. "You're playing a dangerous game. One you don't understand."

"I promised I'd get Pablo back safely. I keep my promises."

Monique pressed her scarlet lips into a flat line, her eyes narrowing.

Long, tense moments later, she turned away and shrugged. "Go on then. You take him. But you make good use of him or I'll have him back."

"We'll go to the portal."

"No. You stay here tonight. I need you in the meeting tomorrow with Edward. My man will show you to a bedroom."

They followed the servant up some narrow stone stairs, along a corridor lit by stubby candles, and into a bedroom very similar to Monique's.

After the man left, Clare waited a few minutes, then tried the door. Relief surged through her to find it unlocked. She peered into the empty corridor. Instinct told her to go straight back to the portal and try to get home, but Monique would soon return to her bedroom, and anyway, Clare wanted to be at the meeting with Edward the following day to find out what he and Monique were up to.

She refastened the door and turned to see Pablo sitting on the edge of the bed. Sharing a room wasn't ideal, but she didn't want to let him out of her sight until she got him home. She felt responsible for his being stuck here without Luka.

Clare glanced around at the furniture. There were two large wing chairs in front of the fireplace. "One of us will have to sleep in a chair."

Pablo raised anxious eyes to her. "We must share the bed."

Clare laughed. "Good try, Lothario, but no."

"If you don't want me, she'll come for me."

"Don't be silly. She doesn't know what we're doing."

"You don't understand what she's like." His gaze flicked up to her and back to his lap. "Please sleep in the bed with me."

She was about to refuse again when she noticed the worry lines etched around his eyes and mouth. She moved to sit beside him on the bed. "Tell me what happened between you and Monique. How did she hurt you?" She also wanted to know how Luka was involved, but Pablo might not feel comfortable talking about his friend.

Pablo glanced around, eyes a little wild. "Not here," he whispered.

Clare followed his gaze, wondering if there was any way Monique could spy on them or if Pablo was just being paranoid. The silence deepened and prickles raced down her spine. She wouldn't put anything past her grandmother, and after that little fiasco in the dining room earlier…

"Get into bed." Clare stood and flipped back the corner of the sheets. The best thing they could do was get some rest so they were fresh for the following day.

Pablo pulled off his boots, then unlaced his leather jerkin and tossed it aside. Clare opened her mouth and closed it again at the sight of a perfectly toned chest and tight washboard stomach. He stood and his hands went to the fastening on his trousers.

"Hey." Clare raised the flat of her hand, finally coming to her senses. "That'll do. Keep your pants on."