Fangs But No Fangs (19 page)

What had he been thinking? He hadn't. He'd been a mindless puppet, desperate for Lilah's affection— willing to do anything she asked. But how did he explain that to Jolee?

He decided to stick as close to the truth as he could. "Lilah used to bite my neck when she'd orgasm. When I felt your teeth, I panicked. It was like suddenly Lilah was back. I'm sorry."

She eyes widened at his explanation. She obviously found his words a little odd. Okay, more than a little odd.

"She bit you?"

He nodded.

"Like bit, bit."

He nodded again.

"As in to hurt you?"

She cringed when he nodded.

"Our relationship was not normal," he said.

Jolee raised her eyebrows at his flatly stated words. What else had this woman done to him? The idea that a woman had physically, as well as emotionally, hurt him made her ill. How could someone do that? And no wonder he acted so peculiar at times. That had to be very hard for a man to admit, especially one as strong and proud as Christian.

"Did she… take pleasure from hurting you?"

"Yes."

Again, a sick feeling filled her. Her eyes roamed over his chest and arms, looking for signs of this woman's brutality, but his golden skin was perfect. But she didn't doubt his words. She knew that some people did enjoy such things, although she couldn't imagine why. Then again, maybe he enjoyed that sort of thing, too.

No, she decided, looking at his almost angelic face. He'd never been anything but gentle with her. When he'd been making love to her, his touches had been excited, passionate, but always tender.

She still felt she had to ask. "Did you like it?"

He shook his head. "Now, I realize that I didn't. But at the time I was so entranced by her, I would have agreed to anything she wanted. I did agree."

Again, Jolee thought of all the women she'd known who did that very same thing, believing bad situations were acceptable, or could be fixed by love.

Protectiveness surged through her. She stepped closer to him. "I can understand now why you feel like you don't know how to have a relationship."

He stepped closer to her, too.

"I am a little out of practice with anything normal."

"Well, I'm not sure I can really help you with that," she admitted.

He gave her one of his half-smiles, and she wondered how devastatingly handsome he must be when he smiled fully. She hoped to find out one day.

"I think you have more idea about normal than I do," he said, then almost tentatively reached out to brush a damp strand of hair back from her cheek.

"Well, I'll tell you what. Let's start again. Maybe if we take it slow and work together, we can figure this whole relationship thing out." She smiled at him, suddenly sure that was exactly what she wanted.

Extreme, knee-weakening relief washed through Christian. "I'd like that."

He still didn't know exactly what he could offer her, but he had to be near her. He would think about how to end things when he had to, but until that time he just wanted to glory in her. Thinking about his past with Lilah just made the need all the more powerful. He had to be with this mortal. She made him feel more human than all of his steps, all of his blog entries combined. He needed her goodness to erase Lilah's evilness. His own evilness.

"I know this might seem a little after the fact given you already gave me an orgasm on the hood of your car" — she blushed, her cheeks a rosy pink— "but I think we should go slower. You know, maybe date."

He frowned. Dating? Of course he'd heard of the convention, but he'd never done it. Well, maybe those carriage rides around Hyde Park were sort of dates. But what kind of date did Jolee expect?

"You've never dated?" She widened her eyes, obviously seeing his hesitation.

"No. I don't think so."

She shook her head, tempering her shocked look with a smile. "But you do know what a date is?"

"We go places together, and do things." He tried not to sound too lascivious on that last part.

She smiled, lifting one of her finely arched brows, indicating that he'd failed. "And we get to know each other."

Now, that sounded nice. He wanted to know everything about her. And he did want to take her somewhere special and treat her like the amazing woman she was, like he knew she'd never been treated. Although he didn't know where to take her in the middle of the night in Shady Fork. Now, in New York or London or Paris, there he could take her on a date.

"Would you like to go out on our first official date tomorrow?" she asked. "It's Sunday, so we have the night off."

He noted that not only did he still have Jolee, he still had a job. Something amazingly like happiness swelled in his chest.

He nodded. "What would you like to do?"

He knew what he'd like to do, but he stopped his gaze from wandering down her body, shrouded in his shirt.

"How about dinner?"

"Sure." He couldn't eat, but he'd love to watch her do so.

"Great. Let's meet at seven for a date."

"Let's make it eight. I'm really a lot better at night," he told her. For the briefest moment, guilt diluted the happiness in him. He couldn't be with her like a real man.

Then she laughed, drawing his full attention back to her. "Well, you know I'm a night person, too. Eight, it is."

He knew he shouldn't be ignoring his guilt, but he did.

He wanted this, and he'd make sure things worked out for both of them.

Jolee glanced at the alarm clock on the box she was using as a makeshift nightstand. It was nearly seven-thirty, and she still didn't know what she was wearing on her date tonight. She searched through her meager wardrobe again. Something to wear to dinner. Something to wear anywhere besides work.

She pulled out a lavender satiny dress with a flounce around the bottom, a scooped neckline, and thin, capped sleeves. She'd worked until closing every night after school and every weekend for nearly a month, bagging groceries to buy the dress for a high school dance. She'd been so excited to go, because it was at a neighboring high school, and she'd hoped the Dugan reputation wouldn't follow her there. Turns out it had, and the boy she went with had only asked her because he heard she was easy. He'd spent the whole night trying to look down the front of this dress and cop a feel.

She grimaced and put the dress back. It was the best thing she had, but she didn't need those memories accompanying her. Not to mention, the dress was a little dated. She wanted to look classy. Not like a prom queen in the early 90s. She chuckled to herself. Like she would have ever been prom queen, even in the 90s.

She pulled out another dress. This one was a simple cotton sundress, blue with white swirling designs around the hemline. She'd had it for years, and the seam on one side was ripped. Plus, now that she thought about it, all she had for shoes were dirty canvas sneakers and flip-flops. Not exactly a good look. Although she smiled imagining Christian's expression if she answered the door in the lavender prom dress with the pink flip-flops. Christian, with his designer wardrobe, would be so impressed.

Christian. She'd lay in bed last night, going over what she'd learned about him. In fact, she'd barely slept a wink, thinking about his relationship with Lilah, and what he'd said about this woman. Jolee suspected that was why he'd told her he needed to get away from his world, because his world included Lilah. But why Shady Fork when he could obviously go anywhere? Maybe because Lilah would never think to look for him in some backwater town.

She also had remembered something else Christian had said. That nothing from his world would affect her. Did that mean Lilah was still out there, looking for him? And dangerous? She'd decided that probably wasn't what he meant. He must have been referring to the fact that he wouldn't let his old life affect his new one. Just like she was hoping to do. Of course, she knew firsthand that ghosts of the past had a way of reappearing. But she wasn't going to worry about this crazy woman. She wanted to focus on Christian, and show him that all women weren't going to hurt him. Funny, they both needed to be shown that. In some ways maybe they weren't that different. Except in their wardrobes. There they were miles and miles apart.

She sighed, finally deciding on a denim skirt. Aside from a small fray at the hemline and the fact that the waistband was a little loose due to lots of working and little food, it looked okay. She could cover the waistband with a nice blousy top in dark red that looked good with her coloring, and the short sleeves covered the still mottled bruise on her shoulder. It didn't cover the bandage on her forearm, but that was okay.

She also found her best panties and bra, a matching set in black cotton, and pulled them on. She didn't plan on having another experience with him like on the car, but the nice underwear did make her feel sexier. And given her rather blah outfit, she needed all the supplementary confidence she could get. Not to mention to make up for the pink flip-flops she'd have to wear.

Finished dressing, she headed to the bathroom to do something with her hair and to put a little makeup on her pale cheeks. She ran a brush through her hair, the long red tresses falling in waves just past her shoulders. As a kid, she'd hated her hair, the brilliant red and the unruly thickness of it making her stand out and drawing attention she didn't want. But now she'd learned to rather like the color and waves. She finished brushing and decided to just wear it down tonight.

She rooted around in the medicine cabinet until she found an old bottle of cherry red nail polish. After a long struggle, she finally got the adhered top off and settled on the cover of the toilet to daub some of the overly thick lacquer on her toe-nails. She frowned at the results, not sure the polish would really make the flip-flops look any better. Ah well, it would have to do.

Then she returned to the mirror to apply a little dusky rose eyeshadow and a touch of mascara. She decided to forgo the lipstick; she didn't need anything else drawing attention to her mouth. She could give Angelina Jolie a run for her money in the lip department. Jolie. She studied herself in the mirror. Would Christian think she was pretty tonight? Would he think she was classy enough to be with him? She certainly didn't feel like it, but she hoped he thought so.

A knock rattled the front door. Giving herself one last appraising look, she decided this was as good as it got, and hurried down the hallway to the kitchen. She opened the door, and Christian stood on the other side, looking…

"You look beautiful," he said, stealing her thoughts exactly. Although he was beyond beautiful in a black jacket that made his broad shoulders appear even broader and black pants that showed the length of his legs. A deep cobalt blue shirt made his crystal blue eyes even more dramatic, and his hair was mussed in a sexy, straight-out-of-bed way, streaks of pale blond shimmering against dark gold. This man was going on a date with her? He definitely made up for the teenage loser at the prom.

She also noticed she was painfully underdressed compared to him, but she was rather used to that feeling. He worked at the bar in clothes that most people would save for special occasions. What was it her grandmother used to say? "Clothes a fellow was either married in or barried in."

She tugged the loosely knotted, bright red tie at his throat. "You look like a rock star."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Is that good?"

"I do have a thing for musicians," she told him.

"I'll remember that."

Then he held out his hand, and for the first time she realized he was carrying something.

"What's this?" Jolee said, obviously confused as to why he'd be giving her a gift.

"Well, I think I'm supposed to bring you a token of my esteem when I pick you up for a date." He mentally winced. That sounded more stodgy than rock star-ish.

She grinned, not seeming to notice, and accepted the flat, rectangular package enclosed in a brown paper bag. But if his comment didn't ruin the rock star effect, this gift would.

She unwrapped the box. "Wow, it's a… Hairdini."

This time he winced outwardly. "I know I'm supposed to bring you flowers or candy, but I didn't have time to go get those."

"But you had a Hairdini?"

He shrugged, trying to look cool. "You never know when you might need one."

She grinned at him, those appealing brackets appearing, showcasing her wonderful lips. "This is the nicest gift I've ever received. Thank you."

"If this is the nicest present you've received, I dread to think about the other gifts you've gotten."

Her smile faded just slightly, and he wished he hadn't spoken. Then he realized her smile hadn't faded, it had just changed, growing into a little mischievous grin.

"Well, I have to admit that I mainly like it because you looked so sweet and unsure when you gave it to me."

"Ah, you love to see me humbled, don't you?"

"No, that's not true." She tried to look contrite, but gave up, grinning widely. "Okay, yeah."

He shook his head, amused by her honesty and by how adorable she was. Her dark eyes danced and her little laugh was infectious.

"I will definitely use it, though," she added. "I can never keep all this mess in a bun; it's too thick and unruly."

His gaze drifted to her hair, which was down tonight, brushing her shoulders and neck. The color was fascinating, the deepest red he'd ever seen, threaded with just hints of copper.

He reached out and caught a wavy lock, rubbing the silkiness between his fingers.

"Now that I see your hair down, I think I might have to take my gift back."

He could feel her gaze on him as he savored the texture and the color.

He wanted to kiss her, and from her deepening cinnamon scent, he could tell she wanted the same thing. But he didn't. Tonight was about going slow.