Danger Calls (4 page)

She shouldn't have been disappointed. He was doing the right thing, just as he had done the morning after. He hadn't pressed, almost as if he'd realized she was uncertain about all they had shared the night before. Instead, he'd been tender and concerned, tracing the dark circle beneath one eye and excusing himself so she could rest.

She suddenly wanted to know more about this complex rebel with a gentle touch and a heart that…She stopped herself. She shouldn't be thinking about things of the heart. She'd never been good with emotion and now, as Ryder's doctor, there was even less space for that in her life. “Maybe you should just come over to the apartment and do whatever you need to. That might be better.”

After a long pause, he said, “I could bring food so we could eat while we talk. So is it Italian?”

Melissa chuckled at his stubbornness. “Yes. With lots of garlic. And garlic bread. Maybe even Parmesan garlic salad dressing.”

He laughed. “It's tough caring for a vampire, isn't it?” he said.

Melissa nodded. “So about this
business
meeting…”

S
ebastian struggled with what to wear, not sure of the message he wanted to send. If he had been meeting a client, he'd replace the T-shirt and faded jeans with more suitable attire. Of course, since Melissa had not mentioned remuneration, and even if she had he would have refused it, he wasn't quite certain she would fall into the client category.

He grabbed an
X-Files
T-shirt but didn't put it on. After all, he wanted her to take him seriously, even if the only kind of relationship they had was a professional one. At least for now. Sebastian couldn't help hoping the good doctor was battling a personal desire having nothing to do with work.

The T-shirt suddenly seemed juvenile. Or was it the ghost of his father whispering in his ear? Tossing the shirt aside, he rifled through his closet and finally settled on a sharply pressed pair of khaki slacks, a cream-colored button-down shirt and a russet suede blazer to chase away an early winter chill.

After he was finished, he examined himself in the mirror. The colors of the shirt and blazer looked good on him. And he was glad he'd gotten a haircut. His hair was cropped short around his ears, but left longer at the top. He'd removed his earring and the bracelet and rings he normally wore. He looked neater, more put together.
More respectable
, the annoying voice in his head urged.

Sebastian ignored it and walked the few blocks from his apartment to Little Italy. He picked up the meal he had ordered earlier, complete with mozzarella-topped garlic bread. After, he flagged a cab on the narrow street in front of the restaurant, and the taxi made great time in getting to Ryder and Melissa's apartment on Sixty-Sixth Street, right off Second Avenue.

Sebastian took the elevator to her floor after being cleared by the doorman, vaguely recalling the layout of the apartment building. More clearly, he remembered that Melissa's bedroom was on the first floor of the duplex while Ryder lived on the penthouse level. Sebastian hadn't spent more than a night there, but it had been a night that had indelibly seared itself into his memory.

Alerted to his presence by the doorman, Melissa was already waiting. She wore a pair of trousers and a sleeveless lace blouse. Both were black. The blouse had a deep V-neck with small scalloped lace along the edges.
Fairly sedate
, he thought, until she turned to walk into the apartment and he saw the back of the blouse. It was nothing but a sheer panel of lace that exposed the creaminess of her skin. He bit back a groan. There was nothing underneath the blouse besides her.

Melissa tossed him a knowing smile as he followed her. She was testing him. Seeing if he could keep it just business.

It should have annoyed him. It didn't. He liked her spunk.

“I figured we'd eat in here. Keep it simple,” she said, leading him past a modern-looking formal dining room and into the eating area of a spacious state-of-the-art kitchen.

“That's fine. You can tell me what kind of computer equipment Ryder has while we eat. After, you can show me a journal or two.” He placed the plastic bag of food on the black granite counter and slipped off his blazer. When he removed the take-out aluminum pans from inside the bag, the pungent aroma of garlic wafted into the air.

Melissa closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and smiled. “Good thing Ryder's not home.”

“So the garlic thing's not just legend?” He finished laying out the pans and began to uncover them. “Dishes?” he questioned.

Nodding, Melissa opened a cabinet and removed various plates and bowls. She handed them to him and said, “Garlic does strange things to Ryder. In small doses, he can deal with it. If he were to ingest a large amount of it…” She shrugged and snagged a piece of mozzarella-topped garlic bread. “Hmm. Delicious.”

“Don't fill up on the bread. There's the salad with garlic Parmesan dressing as requested. Scampi with roasted garlic. And last but not least, grilled chicken with pesto. As a side, we have linguini with marinara sauce, for a slight change of pace.”

Melissa popped the last bit of garlic bread into her mouth and smiled. After she finished chewing, she said, “I like a man who's true to his word. Would you like some wine with dinner? Ryder has a great collection.”

“Ryder drinks wine? I thought vampires only drank—”

“Blood? Hollywood stereotypes,” Melissa teased, tsking and shaking her head. She walked to a small wine cellar built into the wooden kitchen cabinets then turned a few bottles to expose the labels before pulling one out.

“Red seems appropriate,” she said and held the bottle out for his approval.

Sebastian uncorked the wine while Melissa forked some salad into bowls and prepared another set of plates with a little bit of each of the main courses and the pasta.

Once they were seated and the wine poured, Sebastian raised his glass and offered a toast, “To working together.”

Melissa raised her glass, but was quick to clarify, “I don't think there will be much
together
, Sebastian.”

She doth protest too much
, he thought. She was building defenses right before his eyes.

He knew the price to be paid for erecting such barriers. He'd kept his father away with the walls created by his defiance. Behind those walls, he'd avoided hurting people who expected more of him than he was able to give.

“Understood, Melissa. Just business.” He held up one hand as if in surrender, although giving up was the last thing on his mind.

Sebastian's too-quick acquiescence surprised her because of the disappointment that came again, much as it had at the coffeehouse the other day. Disappointment implied that she'd hoped he'd take this opportunity to rekindle…No. To rekindle one had to have kindled in the first place. Their night of sex apparently hadn't lit any fires for him. But that's the way she wanted it, wasn't it?

“Fine,” she said and nodded as if to confirm it to herself. “Ryder will cut you a check—”

Sebastian stopped her again by raising one hand. “I won't take money for helping. Especially since I'm doing it for my sister.”

“Oh.” This time her disappointment cut deep. She didn't rate, obviously, but why should that surprise her? She hadn't rated with her parents, either. “What about the equipment you need?” she asked, hoping her dismay wasn't apparent.

Sebastian chewed his scampi thoughtfully before replying, “I'm not rolling in the dough, so I will let Ryder reimburse me for that. I'm assuming he can afford it,” he said, motioning to everything around them with his empty fork.

“Money isn't an issue. At least, as far as I know,” she replied, then turned her attention to the food while Sebastian asked questions about the journals and their sizes, Ryder's existing computer, peripherals and Internet connections. She answered as best she could and advised Sebastian when he would have to ask Ryder for more information.

Dinner was just about finished when the apartment alarm chirped, signalling Ryder's return.

Ryder walked into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks, Diana behind him. “Whoa. If you wanted me to stay away, all you had to do was ask.”

Diana smiled at her brother and greeted Melissa with a nod of her head. “Have the two of you decided what to do?” Diana asked as she paused in the doorway, briefcase gripped tightly in her hand.

Sebastian shot Melissa an uneasy glance. “I have a basic idea of what I need for the project. I guess we can start…” He paused, waiting for Melissa to fill in the blank.

“As soon as you confirm the equipment you need and do the programming,” she finished.

“We should try to do that as soon as possible,” Ryder advised.

It was obvious to Melissa from Ryder's tone that something was up. “You have more information?” she asked as she grabbed her plate and started clearing the table. Sebastian rose and joined her, removing the remainder of their meal and leaving their glasses and the half-empty bottle of wine.

Diana opened her briefcase and removed an assortment of papers. “I looked at the reports and made a call or two. There are a number of things that just don't connect.”

“It wasn't an accident, was it?” Melissa asked and plopped down heavily in her chair, her knees suddenly rubbery.

“Nine-one-one received a call from a pay phone reporting the accident. Crews were dispatched immediately, but there were no motorists at the scene when the police arrived.”

Melissa knew Diana was only trying to be complete with the facts, but there was just one thing she wanted to hear. “Can you skip to—”

“The real four-one-one,” Sebastian finished for her and she gave him a grateful smile.

“I contacted the initial officer on the scene and asked why he hadn't requested medical assistance.” Diana hesitated and looked at Melissa uneasily as she finished, “He said that when he felt for a pulse the bodies were cold. He knew immediately there was no reason for paramedics, but there was no way the bodies—”

“My parents,” Melissa lashed out.

“
Perdoname
,” Diana apologized before continuing. “Even though it was chilly, from the time of the call to the arrival of the police, to be cold your parents had to have been dead for some time.”

Since the day the journal had disappeared, Melissa had wondered whether there was some connection to her parents' crash. Even though some medicine and prescription pads had been stolen, too, it made no sense for a drug dealer to steal a musty old journal. Nor had it made sense for her normally cautious father to speed down an icy and dangerous road. Perhaps her father had discovered something someone didn't want him to know. She thought she'd convinced herself she'd be able to handle any revelation about their deaths, but she'd been wrong. She gripped the table to stop the way her world seemed to be spinning.

Sebastian laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I need some air.”

Melissa raced out the door before Sebastian could react. He looked at Ryder. “Don't you think you should see if she's all right?”

“She just needs some time alone,” Ryder responded.

Anger surged through him at Ryder's too-pat answer. “Melissa's been alone for too long.” With that, he pushed away from the table, shoving it so hard that wine sloshed over the lip of Melissa's nearly full glass.

He stepped through a set of French doors on the main floor that opened onto a small balcony where Melissa stood. She'd wrapped her arms tight around herself and her head hung down, her chin almost on her chest. It was as if she wanted to disappear into herself. He placed a hand on the glass of the sliding door, wishing he could touch her with that gesture. A moment later her shoulders started to shake. He couldn't handle that.

Sebastian walked up behind her. Large soundless sobs racked her body.

It twisted something inside him to see her in such pain. He laid his hand on the gap between her neck and shoulder. At his touch, she turned and leaned into him. He wasn't sure what to do for a moment. He had so many reasons for wanting their relationship not to get personal. So he stood there awkwardly, hands raised in midair until he finally did what his heart knew to be right. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. He bent his head and rested it against the top of hers. At that moment, whatever restraints she had left broke free.

She eased her arms around him, gripped his shirt in her fists and buried her head against his chest, murmuring, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

He grasped the back of her head and tunnelled his fingers into the thick wealth of her hair. “Shh. There's nothing to be sorry about.”

She kept crying and repeating those words over and over in soft tones. He held her until her distress abated and the sobs racking her body subsided into small hiccuping breaths. When she was finally calm, she pulled away from him and her gaze met his. Her eyes were a gleaming sapphire, bright with tears still waiting to be shed. He cupped her face, wiped his thumbs across the wet trails on her soft warm skin. It seemed only natural to move his finger a fraction of an inch, trace the outline of her lips with his thumb. He bent his head until the spill of her breath bathed his lips.

Her lips were satiny. Flavored with the salt of her tears. He licked away those remnants and she opened her mouth to him, deepening the kiss.

Melissa's head was spinning; her mind reeling with the feelings he created in her. She'd been so alone until he'd stepped out onto the balcony. Even before he'd touched her, she'd connected with him. Now here he was, kissing her again. She let herself enjoy the sensation of how right his kiss felt. Met his tongue with her own and pressed herself tight to him. Like some kind of genetic memory, she recalled every little nuance of his body's contours. Remembered his strength and caring as he'd made love to her. A surge of emotion ripped through her.

It was the tension and that transference thing again, she told herself.

She yanked away from him and brought her hand up to wipe the taste of him from her lips. “I'm sorry, Sebastian. We shouldn't be doing this.”