That brought him up short.
Since when had he been concerned about “feelings”? Obviously, this whole Andarta thing was getting to him. Andarta had been the only woman he had ever loved. But what did love have to do with anything?
He glanced at Roz and realized he wanted more than this from her. He didn’t know what, but definitely more.
When he didn’t answer, mainly because he was speechless, shut down by his own wayward thoughts, she rose jerkily to her feet. The towel fell to the floor, and she stalked completely naked to the front door.
Yanking it open, she stood to the side and gestured to the hallway beyond. She was gorgeous. For a moment, he admired her. Maybe she wasn’t today’s idea of what was beautiful, but to him she was perfection. He was insane. Totally fucking insane.
“Out,” she snapped.
He crossed the room but paused at the door. “Will you be all right?”
She stared at him as though the question made no sense. Then her expression cleared, and she smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’ll be all right. Because guess what? Thanks to you, I’ve got my vibrator, so I don’t need some dick who can’t make up his mind whether he wants me or not. Maybe the hot-cold thing works with some women but not with me.”
There wasn’t a lot he could say to that—at least not that would make sense. So he walked out the door.
It slammed behind him, and he heard something smash against the wood. He was betting it wasn’t the scotch.
He ran a hand through his hair. What was the matter with him? He could be in there now, lodged deep inside her, drinking her down, feeling her come apart beneath him. Or on top of him or…Whatever she believed, he liked women who knew what they wanted and weren’t shy about asking for it.
No, it wasn’t the fact that she was pursuing him that bothered him. It was why she was doing it. There was an edge of desperation to her actions, and he wanted to understand her.
He was still hard, and his balls ached for some sort of relief. But it was late. Dawn came early at this time of year, and when he made love with Roz, he wanted the time to enjoy it. Tomorrow night would be soon enough. Maybe if she had the day to think about why he’d acted this way, she would come up with the right answer. And maybe she might even share it with him.
On the other hand, if she didn’t, he reckoned it was only fair to let her seduce him. Otherwise, she might get a complex. Start thinking she was undesirable. No, tomorrow night, he would give in.
…
Roz stared at the closed door.
Well, that hadn’t gone as planned.
She glanced down at herself. She was naked and hadn’t even noticed. Where the hell was that stupid towel?
It wasn’t that he hadn’t desired her. She had felt him, full and hard, beneath her. Tasted the need in his kiss.
She realized how much she had relied on this to keep her from thinking. To blank her mind of the future, or rather the lack of a future. She’d decided what she was going to do. And she wouldn’t back down.
But she was afraid. In truth, she didn’t wish to die now any more than she had five hundred years ago.
It was just that now she had learned there was a price to pay to hold on to that life. And this time the price was too high.
But she’d needed someone to hold her. More than that, she’d wanted Piers to hold her, to make love to her, to make her feel she was not alone through the last hours of this last night.
But the truth was, she was alone. As she had always been alone.
She went to the bedroom and crawled into bed, dragged the pillow into her arms, and hugged it tight. For the first time since her mother had died, she curled up in a ball and cried.
Chapter Fourteen
Roz must have managed to sleep eventually. She woke feeling terrible, then remembered why and felt even worse.
How were Ryan and Maria feeling right now? That blood-sucking bastard better not have touched them.
Thinking about blood-sucking bastards brought back the scene with Piers, and she pulled the pillow over her head and groaned. At least she would never see him again. Hopefully she would be long gone before he got up out of his coffin—or wherever it was he spent the daylight hours. Why didn’t that thought make her happier?
After showering, she dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt, sneakers on her feet just in case she had to run. Then she sat and sipped a cup of coffee while she decided what to do first. The truth was she needed help, and she had very limited choices. Before she left, she checked her cell phone. There were three messages from Shera. Asmodai must be looking for her. What a surprise—but he’d have to wait. It would do him good.
She took the private elevator down to the reception area. The place buzzed with activity this morning, but it was nine o’clock, the start of the working day for most ordinary people—and the people milling about appeared very much like ordinary human beings.
The woman from the other day was behind the desk. She didn’t appear to recognize Roz in her normal gear, which was hardly surprising—people tended not to see beyond the nun’s habit. It was what had made it such a good disguise.
“I need to see Jonas,” she said. She realized she didn’t have his last name. What was she supposed to say—Jonas the “warlock”? She had no clue whether this woman was aware of what went on below ground…Though she had known Piers, and she’d been wary of waking him during the day, so chances were she knew of the Order.
Roz hoped she could help, because if she couldn’t then she was going to have to contact Tara. And she’d rather not do that, because Tara would tell Christian and Christian would tell…
“I’m afraid Jonas is not in the building right now.” She gave Roz a dazzling smile that was all on the surface.
“Do you know where I can find him?”
“He’s probably at the Crooked Hat.”
“The Crooked Hat?” Where the hell is that?
“It’s a public house in the East End. Jonas lives there when he doesn’t stay here.”
“Okay, can you give me the address?”
“No problem, Ms. Fairfax.” So she did know who Roz was. The woman scribbled an address down on a notepad by her desk and handed the paper to her. She glanced at it before shoving it in her pocket. “But Mr. Lamont left orders that if you wanted to leave the building, then Carl would take you wherever you would like to go.”
“Carl?”
Didn’t she remember Tara mentioning a Carl? Wasn’t he a werewolf? She was almost tempted to let him take her just so she could meet him. She’d never met a werewolf before, and today would be her last chance. But she could do without being lumbered with a bodyguard she would no doubt have to lose at some point during the day.
“He’s head of security here. I’ll call him for you.”
Roz smiled. “No, don’t do that. I’d much rather take a cab.”
The woman opened her mouth but Roz didn’t wait for her to speak, just turned around and strode out of the building. She half-expected someone to stop her, but she was out on the street without anyone trying.
It was a gorgeous day and she tried not to think about the fact that it was her last. Instead, she headed off at a fast walk and managed to pick up a cab a couple of blocks down. She gave him the address of the Crooked Hat.
The journey took forty minutes, mainly because the traffic was so busy at this time of day. He finally let her out in a pretty rundown area—a mix of residential houses and small businesses. The Crooked Hat was a pub, with a sign over the door showing a wizard’s tall hat, slightly bent in the middle. The pub appeared no better than the rest of the area, the dark red paint peeling off the door.