And despite the curse, her loss of memory and a fifty-year separation—she still knew exactly how to spit in his eye and turn him on in the same breath.
“The stage manager doesn’t want to talk to me,” Frederick lowered his voice to barely a whisper. Richard needed to sit forward to hear him.
“Charm her—you landed yourself in hot water with twins, one can only imagine you possess a certain amount of appeal to the fairer sex.”
“I’m sure he does,” a Rubenesque woman interrupted, stepping around the booth and favoring Frederick with a gimlet glare. “But I am neither fair nor interested in sex. So go away, little vampire. You annoy me.”
The stage manager’s—because Richard doubted she could be anyone else—bluntness shocked Frederick, and his eyes widened. An actual trace of fear rolled through his scent. Intrigued, Richard waved the younger vampire away. Perhaps his time at the Royale would harden the soft, spoiled brat into a real man. A century or so would prove that out.
“May I sit?” She motioned to the booth before Richard could rise.
Manners dictated he should stand, but power suggested a better option in remaining in his seat. He inclined his head. “Please. You are the stage manager, Heidi.”
“And you’re the Prince of New York. Now that we’ve gotten the obvious out of the way, let’s discuss Kiki.”
“Her name is Kristina.” He’d never been fond of that nickname and would prefer to wash her free of it altogether. “And she is the Princess of New York, not some common performer.”
“Well, in one area we are agreed—she is no ordinary performer. That said, you are forbidden from interfering in her service to the Midnight Mystery Lounge. She may see you if she chooses in the free hours after the show, but she is to return to the Lounge before sunrise. That is non-negotiable.”
Richard snapped his mouth shut lest he gape at the woman. “You don’t—”
“No. Look, I can pander to your title and your ego and I can say all the polite things, but the truth here will serve you far better. I cannot help you. I cannot help her. I will protect her for as long as I am able. The rest is up to the two of you. I will provide you with no clues and no access to my files. I will certainly not cater to the boy vampire’s crude attempts to befriend me. You are fortunate that I am not forbidding Kiki from seeing you, nor am I reporting her infractions.”
Anton and David shifted imperceptibly, but Richard waved them off. The harsh tone, the forceful words and the cold look in the woman’s implacable gaze—they were too direct, too specific and far too harsh no matter his position. The house did not show its hand, did not display power or disdain unless…
“You wouldn’t be wise to forbid her. She has never been one to obey even when it was in her best interests.” It flew in the face of his nature to forgo orders, but four hundred years together gave him some insight into his bride’s needs, or so he’d always believed.
“Excellent. Then we have an understanding.” Heidi rose, and Richard moved, catching her arm before she could take a single step away. The chill in her stare sliced at him, but he didn’t relax his grip. His nostrils flared. The stage manager’s scent confused him. White peppermint—snow cold and crisp—mingled with dark chocolate, an undertone of dark woods or bark found hidden in deep southern forests and an herbal almost-wintergreen hint, sharp and piquant in taste.
Witch.
She had to be. He filed that information away for future reference.
“She is going to leave this place.” No other option existed. He would not leave her here. She belonged with him.
“That is not up to you or I, Richard.” Every muscle in his body locked. Something in the way she said his name—as if she captured the entire essence of which he was from his first breath of life to the last drop of blood he tasted. “We do not control her fate. You are here at the sufferance of the Prince of Las Vegas, and he only allowed it because of the terms of his treaty with the casino. He cannot block you forever, but he does not have to allow you access. I suggest you take advantage of the time you have—get to know Kiki—appreciate her for who she really is, unfettered by the chains and burdens of the past. Let her know you beyond the arrogance and expectation.”
Another warning? Another piece of information? He couldn’t move or open his mouth to respond.
Heidi smiled, removing his hand lightly and setting it back on the table. She gave him an almost motherly pat on the cheek. “Sometimes it’s better to look and to listen, when you can’t do anything else.” She walked away. He followed her with his gaze, still parsing the information. She gave him clues—he had no idea why or what her actual endgame was, but she meant to be helpful.
Of course, she didn’t have to vague it up so damn much.
You know, at your age, I expect more.
Her voice whispered into his ear as if she still stood right next to him. But he could see her clearly, right near the lip of the stage and ascending disguised stairs toward a curtain that vanished into the back. She paused to look back at him.
Consider for a moment why she left you in the first place.
He didn’t have to consider it. They fought. They always fought.
Exactly.
She vanished behind the curtain and the force holding him still went with her. He leaned back, sparing a glance at his men, neither of whom seemed to notice anything was wrong. The sound in the room rushed around him—the lights dimmed and behind the curtain, he heard heartbeats.
She left because we fought…again…
So why that fight?
He still chewed on that thought when the curtain swept upwards and his bride ascended the stage in a floor length black evening gown slit up to reveal both thighs and a plunging collar that emphasized the sweet swell of her breasts. She wore a stand-up-collared cape framing her head and so many diamonds that his eyes burned from the reflection.
Oh yes…that’s why we fought…
Chapter Five
The explosion of movement on stage held Richard captivated. He barely acknowledged the waitress delivering a bottle of blood wine or filling his glass. Kristina danced with verve. She shimmied and shook to the music, riding the crescendos up with leaps, twists and spins. The other dancers writhed in and out, playing a scene of battle—and seduction. The stage smoke and lights gave the illusion of storms and shadows.
One by one, Kristina conquered the other dancers. When she bent her head to take the neck of one, his whole body sizzled in reaction. A sensation not unlike hunger flooded through Richard. The fallen dancer writhed against Kristina’s assault, and despite the provocative nature of the red droplets slipping down her throat—it wasn’t blood.
Amusement curled through him. It was syrup. The sugar tickled his nostrils, but the knowledge hardly detracted from the exotic allure of her tossing her hair back as she lifted her head. A hint of the faux blood turned her lips ruby, but the pitch-black midnight of her eyes—that couldn’t be faked.
Those midnight skies pulled him in, beckoned him to dive into their velvet embrace. Unlike the natural born, the changed always betrayed their nature through their eyes—some turning blood red, but more often like his Kristina’s starry-sky gaze.
Cursed or not, she remained a turned vampire, and her arousing performance awakened the hunger in her blood…or perhaps it was his presence. He rubbed a hand against his jaw. His will wouldn’t allow his fangs to descend—no matter how provocative. But he longed to taste the passion reflected in her gaze—the eagerness, and the energy.