“Hello, Claire Murphy.”
She smiled. No one else had a voice like that. No one else could make her shudder simply by saying her name. “Hi, Simon.”
“What are you doing?”
“Working.” Trying to, anyway. Her heart lurched. “How did you get this number?”
“I asked the building manager where you worked, and then I used all my detective skills to thumb through a phone book.”
Would he go to so much trouble just to inform her over the phone that it wasn’t going to work? That he was already tired of her? That he was married?
“What time do you get off work?” he asked, and when he did the connection faltered a little. Apparently he was calling from his cell phone.
“Four-thirty.”
“That’s too long. Ever leave work early?”
“Sometimes.”
“Leave now,” he said, his voice low and commanding and sexy as hell. “Right now.”
Claire’s heart fluttered. “I really shouldn’t…”
“To hell with shouldn’t. I need you.”
Her mouth went dry, while between her legs she was anything but. “I suppose I can take half a sick day.”
“Do it.”
With that, he ended the call. No “See you later,” no “Bye, now,” No “I can’t wait.” Just a command and a click and a dial tone.
Claire closed down her computer program and picked up her purse. Her hands were trembling, and she couldn’t wait to get home. Usually on pretty days she walked home, but maybe today she’d grab a taxi. She informed her boss that she was going home, and since she’d been yawning and droopy-eyed all day he didn’t give her the third degree. In fact, he told her that she looked a little flushed and should stay home until she was sure she didn’t have anything contagious.
Claire agreed and headed for the elevator with a decidedly un-sick spring in her step. Simon needed her. All the way down, she had one thought in her mind. Please, don’t let him be a vampire or a jerk. Let him be just a guy. Maybe even the guy.
Less than a minute later she stepped off the elevator intent on grabbing a taxi and quickly making her way home, but she hadn’t taken two steps before a hand fell on her shoulder. She almost screamed she was so startled, but when she spun around she smiled widely and her heart…her heart did something odd and unexpected.
“I told you I couldn’t wait,” Simon said. He took her hand and they headed for the front door. “I can’t get you out of my head,” he mumbled, and he didn’t sound entirely happy about the fact.
“I thought about you today, a time or two,” Claire said, hefting her purse on her shoulder and picking up the pace. Simon’s steps were longer than hers.
“I went to bed after you left for work, and I woke up thinking about you,” he said.
“Only good thoughts, I hope.”
“What do you think?” He looked at her, and his step instantly altered. For her, he took shorter, slower steps.
At that moment Claire realized that her life had changed in a matter of hours. She realized that she had found the perfect man. She realized that if Simon was a vampire…she didn’t care. Not that she could tell him any of that. Not yet.
They exited through the front doors and into the afternoon sunlight. Simon’s eyes narrowed as the sun’s rays caught him full in the face, but he didn’t explode or catch on fire or recoil. That was good. He gripped her hand in his and it felt very right. That was even better.
Claire had fallen in love before—many times, if teenage crushes counted—but she’d never fallen in so far so fast. Simon was a wonderful lover, an incredible lover, and when they weren’t in bed he introduced her to his musical passion. Jazz. Maybe she would never love the music the way he did, but she did quickly find a few favorite tunes in his collection.
Simon was passionate about his music, almost as passionate as he was about her. He made her laugh, again and again. They danced. Naked. With her head resting on his chest she heard his heartbeat and it always made her smile. How could she have ever suspected him of being a vampire?
Mrs. Tillman kept close watch on their comings and goings as the days passed, and her disapproval was obvious. Once they even heard the whispered words, “foolish girl” drifting from the old lady’s slightly opened door. Claire didn’t have time to worry about one sour old woman. Not when her life was going so wonderfully well.
She felt incredibly silly when Charlie from downstairs, one of the three neighborhood lowlifes she’d believed had disappeared thanks to a bloodsucking vampire, showed up one evening in his usual classless manner, screaming at his wife and making loud, unintelligible excuses for his long absence. If Charlie wasn’t a vampire’s victim, odds were the other two were either in jail or had simply moved on to harass some other neighborhood.
Simon had removed her collection of vampire books from the end table in the main room and stored them on the bookshelf with other novels. She wasn’t sure why they bothered him but they did. Again, she didn’t care. Lately she hadn’t had any time for reading, in any case. Why escape into fiction when reality was so wonderful?
He kissed her neck frequently, but he didn’t bite. Much.
On Friday night, the club where Simon played reopened and he insisted on taking her with him. He didn’t have to insist very hard; she was anxious to go. She’d heard him play on his portable piano, and they’d listened to numerous recordings, but she wanted to see him on stage with a band, lost in the music she knew he loved.
And he did love it. At the small but crowded nightclub Claire sat at a small table near the raised stage. She sipped wine and watched as Simon and the other three musicians made beautiful, fast, and furious music. They all loved what they did, not just playing their instruments but creating this music. Simon’s face lit up when he performed. Claire had always known he had remarkable hands, but to see them fly over the piano keys and make such music, that was magic. It was a different kind of magic than that which her grandmother had told her about, but still, it was magic. Until tonight she had only seen Simon look this happy in bed, and yes, she was a little jealous.
But more than that, she was happy for him. Everyone should have something or someone in their life that they loved so much.
When the evening was over, at an hour much later than Claire had ever been out even on a Friday night, they walked from the club heading toward the apartment. It was a trip of just a few blocks, which was one of the reasons Simon had chosen her apartment building. The evening was a bit cool, but with Simon beside her she didn’t feel too chilly. He was very warm, very much alive, and she smiled contentedly as she remembered that she’d once believed he might be a vampire.
She was still convinced that such creatures were real. She knew in her heart that there was more to the world than most people ever saw. But Simon, Simon was just a man. The perfect man, perhaps, but still…a man. He was warm-blooded, his heart beat well, he didn’t mind going out in the late afternoon sun.
…and he ate her garlic bread.
They held hands very easily, as they walked toward home. Claire couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt so close to a person, when she’d ever felt so much a part of someone’s life. This relationship which had begun so very oddly was important, and if she had her way it would only become more important in days and weeks and years to come. Only one small detail kept her from perfection.
“There’s something I should tell you,” she said as they reached the front entrance to the building. She sensed there were possibilities with Simon, possibilities that went beyond sex and shared laughter. Such a connection couldn’t be built on a lie, no matter how small.
And this lie wasn’t particularly small, to be honest.
As they walked up the stairs, she gathered the strength to begin. “Do you remember when you accused me of stalking you?” she asked.