Eden's Charms (16 page)

“What?” Her voice cracked into the little cell. A voice sounding a lot like
Charlie Brown’s teacher
trickled out of the phone. “Who is this?” She huffed a chunk of black curls out of her vision, not that she could see anything other than green eyes hungrily devouring her. She covered the phone’s mouthpiece. “You done with your appetizer yet?” Ethan shook his head no. She shoved at his chest, purposefully letting her hand linger. She caught her breath when her fingers hit a wall of solid muscle.
Sweet!

Ethan smacked his lips together and whispered in her free ear, “You’re more like a happy meal, all wrapped up in one juicy box, babe.”

Savanah loved the idea. Her thoughts spiraled down the gutter, dreaming up ways Ethan could devour her, until her cell phone started talking to her again.

“Miss Savanah? It’s Mr. Colwell, from the museum, dear. I have some very disturbing news for you.”

“Then call me back tomorrow, after ten.” Savanah hung up the phone. There was no sound logic to waking a person mid-dream to give them bad news. As far as she was concerned, the bad news would be there, like a fish that jumped out of its bowl, all dried up on the floor, waiting to be found, or flushed, come morning.

The phone rang again. Savanah sent
Oscar Mayer
sailing to his death. Tomorrow she’d speak with the gallery and not a second sooner.

Ethan got up and walked over to the light switch, and flipped it on. He retrieved the cell phone from the floor.

“Forget the bloody phone. What are you doing in my room?”

Sitting beside her once more he answered, “Well I was sleeping, but that time has ended and rather abruptly.”

“Answer the damn question.”

“No need for huffiness, dearest.”

“My God, what’s with you? Get out now!” She pointed to the door. “Did cupid shoot your ass with a little arrow?” She shoved harder at his chest. “I can shoot your sweet, little tush full of silver.” She leaned toward her nightstand, knowing she kept a small pistol in there. She never loaded it, but he didn’t know that.

“Is that anyway to treat someone
you
invited in?”

“What? Are you—I most certainly did not,
would
never—not in a million years invite your furry little hide in here.”

“Liar!” he countered. “How much wine did you drink last night? Do you do this often? Invite strangers to your bedchamber?
Bedchamber?
How ancient is that word? It’s like you and your uncle snuck out of a Shakespeare novel.”

“Nightly, there are strange men in here, so get used to it.” Savanah tried to get up, but with Ethan sitting on top of her blankets, he had her pinned. Savanah balled her fists and shook them in his face. “Out!” She pointed to the door a second time.

“I thought you wanted to know why I was here.”

“You just told me I invited you, although I don’t believe you.”

“Try me. Am I lying?”

Eyeballs bugged, she asked, “Do I look like I remember? My uncle got me so riled up, I had two glasses of wine on an empty stomach.”

“More like two bottles with your father and uncle. Your Aunt Serina is a light weight. One glass, and she got carted off.”

“No way!” Savanah tried to concentrate, but the only thing she got was a shooting pain between her brows. Once refocused, she noticed a large purplish hickey on Ethan’s neck. “Sweet! Who got you? Did you stop off after that tart from the restaurant? Oh crap, it wasn’t me, was it?”

“Wish it were you. Your father got me, thanks for the concern though. Said he’d finish me off if I got out of line.” Ethan shrugged his shoulders. “Lucian carried him up stairs. Your uncle with the yellow eyes…”

“Jonah.”

“He too told me if I touched you, he’d watch me die a slow death. He said your other uncle—the one I met in the restaurant, is a marshmallow compared to him.”

“Julian.”

“Personally, Julian needs to get laid.”

Savanah couldn’t help but smile. “That’s the general consensus. And yeah, Jonah can be deadly if he’s cornered. He worked with a vamp a long time ago that made him do things he never dreamt he’d ever do.”

“Trust me, I know the feeling! I’m dog food on a daily basis.”

“Ah…more like prime cut!”

Ethan bit back a smirk. “Anyway, I got the short straw and carried you. You’re much heftier than you look. You hungry?”

Savanah eyed Ethan curiously. “Why? I probably should watch my diet.”

“Get dressed. I’ll be down stairs waiting in my car.”

Savanah laughed this time, so hard, tears pooled in her eyes. “Not! Uncle Jonah’s got your keys. It’s no longer your car. That much I do remember. You can kiss that little put-put
so long
.” She twitched her nose at him.

Ethan dug into his pocket, and produced a shiny gold key, with a black rubber protector around it. He dangled the keychain in her face wiping her smile away. “You really don’t remember anything do you?”

Embarrassment shrouded her. “No,” she said with a defeated attitude as she sank back onto her pillow and attempted to cover her face.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs. I’ll fill you in over breakfast.”

Savanah’s heart screeched to a halt. That was the second time he told her to get dressed. She peeked under the covers praying there was more to her than her birthday suit. “Where are my clothes?” came from under the blanket.

“Couldn’t tell ya, sweet cheeks.”

“What did you do to me? And don’t ever call me that again.”

Ethan jumped up off the bed, hurt, his arms going up and out to his sides, appearing as if someone held a gun to him. “Look,” he protested, “Savanah, for as much as I would love to take advantage of you, and trust me, I would love to run my tongue up the length of your soft—leg and those—” Ethan pointed to her breasts—the urge to crawl under the covers with her was all he wanted. He took a deep breath. Stifled his actions. “I am not a rapist. I will not put a woman in a position she didn’t ask for.
Ever!
Once she consents, all bets are off, but not until she says those three beautiful letters that spell
y-e-s
. And before I covered you up, you were dressed. What you did in your sleep is none of my concern.”

“No. You’re just a lying-would-be kidnapper.”

“Let me explain over breakfast.”

“There’s no one open at this ungodly hour.”

That wasn’t a no
. “You don’t go out much do you?”

“With kidnappers, no.”

“I honestly tried to get out of this.”

“Yeah, and tomorrow you’ll sell me the Brooklyn Bridge. I’m hungry. Get out for the last time. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

This close to her, Ethan thought he’d won the lottery. Her exotic fragrance, cardamom, and rosewood drove through him faster than his beamer could go from zero to sixty.
Behave, Ethan. For once in your miserable life, behave
.
What happened to luv ’em and leave, Eth? I’m going to love this one all right. Leaving is no longer an option.

Ethan walked out into the hallway as quietly as he could. Not five feet from her door he spotted articles of clothing strewn across the hallway. He leaned over and picked up a pink sweater, then a pair of jeans, next a pair of fluffy pink socks. When he reached the top of the stairs, Savanah’s pink lacey bra and her pink—whatever the hell it is, hung on the banister. Ethan held the scrap of material out in front of him to analyze it. Why she would even bother wearing it befuddled him. It looked medieval, torturously uncomfortable. A pink leather triangle patch of fabric, attached to a rhinestone-covered shoestring-of-a-thing dangled from his fingertips. Ethan had seen thongs before, but this little thing didn’t have enough thread to be called that. He bit his index finger thinking about where the rhinestones disappeared and how pretty her little derriere would look decorated in it. And then he would take it off her and he’d decorate her.

Without sensor, he brought the material to his nose and sniffed it and set it down in a pile on the bench in the hall.
Breakfast in bed would have been a delight.

Forty-five minutes later, Savanah meandered to Ethan’s car where she found him sound asleep behind the wheel, the stereo softly playing Creed’s, “One Last Breath.” Tiptoeing next to him, she leaned over and pressed the horn hard. An eardrum-shattering noise blasted into the wind. “Hey, wake up. You didn’t drag me out of bed to watch you sleep did you?”

Ethan didn’t flinch.

“No, but I didn’t think hell would freeze over before you got ready either. Get in.”

Savanah returned to her side of the car and didn’t budge. She tapped an impatient finger on the door.

Ethan looked curiously at her and said, “Oh! You’re kidding, right?”

She shook out her thick curls and feigned boredom. Ethan got out of the car, walked around to the passenger’s side, opened the door for her and then slammed it shut after she got in. “Happy now?”

“Yes, thank you. A real gentleman wouldn’t need prompting, Ethan.”

“A real gentleman wouldn’t need prompting, Ethan.” He mimicked as he settled back behind the steering wheel. He threw his car into gear, stepped on the gas, the clutch, shifted and the car all but did a wheelie as it rocketed forward. Savanah’s head hit the headrest.

Her hand choking the door’s handle she bit out, “Do you think you’re Nick Cage in
Gone in 60 Seconds
?”

“You think you’re Angie? Nah! You’re way too…” His voice trailed off.

“Way too what? Don’t do that. What?” She poked his side.

“Beautiful.”

****

Parked in front of Compton’s Restaurant on Broadway, Savanah admitted, “I’ve never been here.” She entered the small yet cozy place decorated in knotty pine and immediately took a liking to it. The eatery barely had a table open. People chatted quietly over fresh brewed coffee, some looking like they were ready to go to work, some ready to go to bed. All the bacon, sausage and egg aromas got her peristalsis geared into action. A cat lover, she enjoyed the different arrangements of kitty portraits decorating the walls. The ambience gave her a warm and friendly invitation to come back. Ethan led Savanah to a table in the front of a large window that overlooked the street.

“Two coffees and menus. Thanks,” he said to the waitress who still looked half asleep herself. “This place is a relic. Great breakfast and lunch and even greater hours. I love sitting here watching the people go to and fro when I’m in town.”

“Really?” Savanah studied Ethan as she relaxed in her chair. “You’re really quite different without an audience. Possibly even pleasant.”

“What was I before?” Ethan leaned across the table on his elbows, giving her his best come-hither grin.

“You really don’t want to know.” She winked at him. “Tell me about the baby. I don’t see you as the doting daddy.”

“So you’re a woman who puts business before pleasure, after all.” It was Ethan’s turn to wink at Savanah.

She gave him the one scrunched up eyebrow look that said it all: No pleasure today, tomorrow or ever for you.

“The Maestro told me your aunt Raven is a deranged, psychotic woman who isn’t capable of raising herself let alone his grandchild and that’s why she lives with her family. He said her looks would indeed be deceiving due to her beauty and that her family would put up a fight, because of his last name, but on the sharper side of that knife, they wouldn’t want the child either because it was Sinclair. Savanah, he’s got my balls pierced and chained to him. I can’t get away from the guy. He’s bitten me every week for the past year. Not that I’ve tried to get out. He’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted and then some. He treats me better than his son, but now with Xanti killing the cops, Xier will never take me back. I just became his second biggest liability. And I honestly pity that dumb son of his. Xier’s been looking for an excuse to rid the planet of him, and he just got it.”

“You sound as if you like this Xier.”

“What’s not to like? He’s incredibly wealthy and shares it and the only thing he ever asked for was blood. You don’t get that from the Red Cross. They take your blood and toss you cookies. I got a plane, a car, cash…”

Savanah cut him off, “The Red Cross saves people’s lives every day, Ethan. Can you say that about Xier? Did he murder people?”

“Yes and no. There’s a fine line between being alive and being a vampire. Yes, technically they die. Everyone goes to the funeral, cries hysterically…but hold the fort!” Ethan lunged across the booth making Savanah jump. “The next thing ya know, there’s a dead guy banging your door down, trying to get back into his house. That’s Xier in a hundred words or less. He’s the opposite of GE’s slogan—We bring great things to life. Xier brings dead things to life.”

Savanah burst out laughing and accidentally spit her coffee across the table at Ethan. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I didn’t expect that.”

Grasping at napkins he said, “Me either.”

She shot him a wad of paper napkins to clean up the mess. “So, you really thought you were being the hero in this plot? Careful how you answer that. The next thing aimed at you may very well determine your future health.” Savanah picked up and held a silver steak knife loosely in her hands.

“Do your little lie detector mumbo-jumbo on me, my Mistress of the night.” Ethan reached across the table, and grabbed her hand, the silver knife solid against his palm.

Savanah wrinkled her nose and dropped the knife. “The singed skin isn’t anywhere near as appetizing as the bacon cooking in the back kitchen. All right, so you’re not lying. What happened to me last night? How did you get Uncle Jonah’s keys back? And please tell me I had clothes on at some point.”

“Whose keys?” Ethan dug into his pocket and flashed his pride possession. “Jonah came looking for me and dragged me down to the wine cellar to join you. He may have drank as much if not more than the two of you combined, crying in his glass about Raven and Vonnie. And then about destiny and you and I. The three of you tried sneaking out of the house like teenagers, trying to take
my car
for a ride. Let’s not forget the saying, drinking and driving is for the dead. I drove everyone to the donut shop for some much needed caffeine and afterwards you managed to keep possession of
my
keys until I dug them from your pocket.”