Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I) (16 page)

"Wait here," he told her and lifted his index
finger. "I'll just be a moment." He didn't wait for her to respond,
but turned on his heels and headed to his office and shut the door.
He threw open the top drawer of his desk and grabbed the vial
Sheerin had given him. Thank the heavens he hadn't lost it when he
dove into the marina. He gripped the vial. The liquid would allow
him to walk in the sun. God he hoped it really worked or this would
be a short courtship.

He removed the stopper and drank it all in
one gulp. He stood there waiting for something miraculous to
happen. Some kind of sensation would have sufficed too, but he felt
nothing out of the ordinary. He stared at the vial and wondered if
Sheerin had given him a bad batch.

"Are you coming?"

He turned at the sound of Cassandra's voice.
She'd opened the door and peeked in. He hid the vial behind his
back and nonchalantly dropped it into the desk drawer before
sliding it closed. "Yep. Just wanted to grab my coat," he added as
his gaze caught sight of the leather jacket he had hanging on the
coat rack. He strode over to it and retrieved the item in question.
"Let's go," he said as he slipped it on. He then grabbed the scarf
and hat. The more skin he covered the better.

"One more sec," he told Cassandra and headed
for the kitchen to peek his head in. "I'm heading out." Georgina
gave him two thumbs up, but Morris raised his brows as his gaze
shifted toward the small window above the sink where the light of
day peeked through.

"Are you sure about this, Boss?" Morris
asked. "Heard it was going to be a sunny day."

Tremayne rolled his eyes and hoped he
appeared more confident than he felt. "Don't forget to lock
up."

Morris appeared like he wanted to say more,
but then he nodded. "Sure thing, Boss," Morris said.

Tremayne let the swinging door shut behind
him, but it didn't stifle Georgina's comment. "Who do you think the
woman is?"

"I don't know," Morris answered, "but she's a
looker."

"It's about time our Boss had himself a
date," Georgina added.

Truly, had it been that long?

"Now I'm ready," he told Cassandra, who stood
there waiting for him. "After you, milady." He waved his hand in
front of him.

"Milady, is it?" She chuckled and shook her
head.

Why had he addressed her in such a fashion?
"I figured ma'am would get me a swift kick in the
you know
what
."

She laughed again. "You know me so well."

Not yet, he thought, but against his better
judgment, he'd like to. He opened the door for her and she stepped
over the threshold, the morning sun shining bright on her face and
making her hair glimmer with dark reddish hues.

Here goes nothing
, he said to himself
with a heavy sigh and followed her. He turned away to lock the
pub's door...or duck inside if the sun's rays decided to scorch his
Irish vampire hide. As seconds ticked by and there was no sizzling,
no smell of burnt flesh… By the heavens, Sheerin had really come
through. The sun beating down on his hand didn't burn.

"Tremayne?" Cassandra asked with concern.

He locked the door and slipped the key into
his pocket before turning around to face her with a full on smile.
"I'm ready. Do you want to ride with me or do you want to follow in
your own vehicle?"

Her brow furrowed, slightly puckering in the
middle, but then her lips curved. "I'll follow."

Wise girl, but then she was following a
vampire to his home.

He headed for his vehicle around back. He
hadn't expected to need to use it, but events kept changing on
him.

As he drove toward home, he kept glancing in
his rearview mirror to see if Cassandra still followed him, and
sure enough she kept up.

"You're a damn fool, Tremayne," he murmured,
but did it stop him from continuing down the road to his place?
Nope, it did not.

Chapter Twenty-One

Tremayne had been flirtatious and sweet as he
told her about the dog he rescued from the pound. She had planned
on trapping Tremayne at the pub and finding out exactly what
preternatural being she was dealing with, and if necessary, taking
him out. She hadn't counted on his employees going about their
business in the kitchen. She couldn't very well stake and dust
their boss without repercussions.

She followed Tremayne's car as they travelled
farther and farther away from civilization. Just where was he
taking her? Somewhere where no one would hear her scream? She hit
her steering wheel with the palm of her hand in frustration. "What
am I doing?" She had no proof Tremayne was anything but what he
claimed to be: a hunter sent to the US because of an indiscretion,
and yet, she sensed there was more to the story, something he
didn't want her to find out.

If she played with the notion he were a
supernatural creature, what was his end game? Why would he help her
track down a Lamia and a rogue vamp? Wouldn't he want to protect
them? And if he wasn't Gerard Green, where was the hunter? Did he
kill him?

"None of this makes sense." Including the
fact that she actually liked Tremayne and his charming ways,
winking dimple and all. She couldn't be attracted to a supernatural
creature. There had to be a logical explanation for his unorthodox
behavior.

Once they parked their cars in the driveway,
she stepped out of her vehicle and stared in awe at the enormous
beachfront house with so many windows, she'd lost count.

She could definitely rule out vampire,
couldn't she? He walked in the sun and his house didn't figure into
what a vampire would own. Every vampire sept, though there were
differences, they all abhorred direct sunlight, couldn't take it
for more than a few minutes before they fried.

She stared at Tremayne as he ventured closer.
Sunlight haloed his head like a saint on a holy card she used to
get from St. Bonaventure. Only her hunter senses were never wrong,
the man was anything but an innocent.

"Just what are you hiding?" she murmured as
she met him half way and then followed him to the front door. Her
hunter instincts were on full mode, but she couldn't pretend she
wasn't attracted to Tremayne. Tall, strong and nice buns. At that
moment, he turned to glance at her with a smile. Heat burned her
cheeks and she glanced away and forced herself to concentrate on
the estate and not her host's attributes.

Tremayne's house sported a large open porch
that wrapped around the sides of the house. He was in walking
distance of a beach and he had a forest for his backyard.

"Ready to meet my pound pup?" he asked as he
placed a hand on the doorknob of his ornate-wood front door.

She nodded and they stepped inside the house.
Shakespeare barked in greeting and came bounding around a corner,
sliding to a halt as he entered the entryway. Shakespeare, the
hound-dog mix of some sort, greeted them with his tail wagging a
mile a minute and thumping against the wall of the foyer like a
whip.

"Oh my, pound pup? He's a horse." She wasn't
afraid of many things, but she learned to be cautious when huge
dogs with lots of teeth galloped toward her.

"Sit, Shakespeare," Tremayne demanded and the
dog sat back on his haunches, but whined with impatience to be
released from the command. Tremayne turned and offered his hand to
her. "He may look vicious, but I assure you he's a lover."

It was difficult to believe. The hound stood
to her waist and his mouth full of teeth made her think of
Red-Riding Hood and the big bad wolf, but then she gazed into the
hound's soft-brown, soulful eyes and it was all over from
there.

Tremayne drew her closer to Shakespeare and
with her free hand she rubbed the dog behind his ears. The hound
gave her a slobbery kiss, making her chuckle. "He's adorable," she
said.

"I agree," Tremayne voiced, but there was
something in the way he said those two words that made her glance
at him.

She stood straighter, and all thoughts of big
dogs and sharp teeth seemed to slip away. Tremayne's intense gaze
made her stomach flutter as if she'd taken a ride down a very steep
hill at top speed in a sports car.

"I'm going to kiss you," he said in that all
too sexy voice of his with just a tinge of a soft lilt, betraying
his Irish roots. He didn't ask, he told her and she, in no way, was
going to stop him. Despite all her reservations, despite the fact
he may be some kind of supernatural being, she wanted to kiss him,
too.

His large hand rested on her lower back as he
drew her flush against him. His body felt warm and strong, and he
smelled like the woods and the sea combined. He tilted her chin so
her eyes met his. Then he lowered his mouth to hers, tasting and
teasing until he took her fully, drugging her as his kiss wrapped
around her senses, making her knees go weak.

It was such a girly response – one she'd
never experienced before she met him – and surprisingly, she liked
it. She prized herself on being in control, but found giving
Tremayne the reins wasn't so bad. He backed her up against the
wall, his kisses more desperate as his hands slid beneath her shirt
at her waist, but then he pulled away. Damn him, it felt like a
lifeline had been severed. He peered at her as she stared back,
both of them trying to catch their breath.

"Cassandra…"

She didn't wait for him to finish. She
grabbed his T-shirt and yanked him closer, anxious to have his lips
on her once more. She took charge this time, and was pleased he
didn't flinch when she took over and devoured with lips, teeth and
tongue. There was nothing better than first kisses and nothing more
satisfying than knowing these first caresses were only a precursor
to all the more intimate ones to follow.

Shakespeare whined and they drew apart.
Cassandra's fingers grazed her lips with a self-conscious chuckle.
The hound stared at them as if they had lost their minds, and in
truth, for those few precious moments, they had.

Tremayne lovingly fingered a few strands of
her hair before he brushed them over her shoulder. His hand
lingered there and she swallowed the lump in her throat. She should
tell him she had to go before things escalated further, but words
failed her.

"Do you want a tour of the house?" he
asked.

Her mind screamed,
No, I want you to kiss
me again,
but she answered with, "I'd love a tour."
Your
bedroom would be a nice place to start.
Luckily, she didn't
voice her suggestion out loud.

His house was painted with soft white and tan
hues, and though the house was decorated befitting a male, she felt
nothing but warmth. He had antiques, but also modern paintings and
furniture comfortable enough to cuddle on when the weather turned
cold.

"Your house is spectacular," she told him and
meant it.

"Thank you."

Shakespeare tagged along, sometimes running
ahead as if he were the docent giving the tour.

"And this is the kitchen," Tremayne said as
they came downstairs and rounded the corner. Shakespeare worked his
way in between them. Cassandra went to pet him at the same time
Tremayne did and their hands brushed. She was about to pull back,
but he clasped her hand in his. She met his gaze, and for the
second time this night she wondered what in the world she was
doing? She drove the rental car to his pub with the intent to
expose him as a liar and a preternatural being. She'd planned to
stake and dust him, but here she was in his house, kissing him, and
worse. Thoughts of seducing him into bed teased her mind with
blush-worthy images.

"Want to stay for dinner?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"You know…nourishment, food…"

She glanced at her wristwatch. "Uh…it's
barely noon."

"I know."

Her gaze riveted to his. "Are you asking me
to stay the day?"

"I'm sure we could think of something to do
until dinnertime." He pulled her into his embrace.

When he looked at her the way he did now, she
couldn't say no. She started this game of cat and mouse, only now
she wasn't so sure she remained the cat in this scenario.

"Say you will stay," he insisted, but held
back, waiting for her answer.

Her heart beat faster at the prospect. Had
she ruled out he wasn't a preternatural being? The sun shining
through the windows told her he didn't shy away from good old
fashion sunshine, but there were many other creatures of the night
that could walk with ease during the daytime hours. The Fae for
one.

Her gaze shifted over his features and liking
what she saw. Good looking, strong, and a man who understood the
hunter's way of life… Even if he wasn't human, he stood by her
side. He had saved her. What other answer could she have?

"Yes, I'd love to stay." It didn't mean she
couldn't still be cautious. Yeah right. Caution took the back seat
the moment she followed him home.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Tremayne stood on his balcony in his room,
leaning heavily on the railing. The moon peered back at him, but it
didn't judge. No, never judged like the sun with its blades of
light. All was quiet except for the ocean's waves as they lulled
the night along like a peaceful lullaby.

He had a full day with Cassandra. They walked
on the beach and chatted. She told him about her brothers and he
spoke of his family, just leaving out the fact that they were
vampires. Truthfully their families were not so different. They
laughed, cried… hunted. As much as he believed she was interested
in knowing him better, he knew she fished for information about
Gerard Green, but he'd looked through the bloke's phone, had Bram
run a check on the hunter before he corrupted his files at the
Bureau. Gerard had an ex-wife and a sister. Cassandra didn't
believe he was Mr. Green, but for the life of him, he couldn't
figure out what had tipped her off. He only hoped his answers had
put her off the trail, and the fact he walked in the sun probably
had her rethinking her suspicions.