Grayson West braced his forearms against the bar and sipped his Scotch. The slow burn did little to numb his mind or the memories that haunted him. It would take at least a whole bottle to forget the blue eyes that called to him like an aqua-colored moon. Blue eyes he’d seen once before. Blue eyes he’d never, in one hundred and eleven years, forgotten. Damn, she looked good. Modern. Fashionable. Much more appealing without double-edged daggers in her hands.
The bartender stopped by to refill his drink, and he gave a nod of thanks. So much for blowing off steam before he shipped out on his next assignment. Being hit square between the eyes with a relic from his past wasn’t how he’d intended to spend his leave. A quick fuck to take care of his most primitive needs. Had that been too much to ask? Now he wouldn’t be satisfied with anyone while the alluring black beauty was stuck in his mind like a broken record.
Damn.
What was she doing here anyway? The obvious answer: she looking for some action of her own. Vampires were insatiable from what he knew, not that he’d ever slept with one.
But she’d been with a group of women. Friends? Perhaps they planned to take advantage of the island’s other amenities. The idea that she was on the prowl for a lover made his stomach ache like a rancid hunk of steak.
He downed the Scotch and signaled the bartender to fill the glass again. While he waited, he turned on the swivel stool and surveyed the room. In a dim alcove, two bodies moved against one another, almost in time with the sensual instrumental version of We Wish You a Merry Christmas that poured from the overhead speakers. The scent of sex filled the air. At the other end of the bar, a woman giggled as she and the man she was with made a speedy exit out the patio door.
Despite the festive holiday lights strung about the room and the elegant fir tree in the corner, he didn’t feel like celebrating. Not when she was out there somewhere doing who knew what with… someone else.
He rolled his shoulders and leaned against the bar again.
The air carried a delightful scent past his nose. Evergreen and… and vanilla. Suddenly he was back on the battlefield. Or deep in the forest, as it were. The sword in his hand was heavy, the day, long. A wave of vampires emerged from the thicket. Grayson dove behind a tree as a volley of arrows breezed through the air.
“What’s eatin’ you?” Richard asked, slapping Grayson on the shoulder, jerking him from the memory.
“Nothin’.” Everything.
His longtime sparring buddy settled on the barstool next to Grayson. “I thought you’d already be fucking a beautiful woman. Isn’t that why we came here?”
That was the plan. “Having a drink first.”
Richard’s head jerked back a notch. “How many have you had?”
Grayson pursed his lips and counted. “This is number four.” Grayson made eye contact with the bartender again before tipping back the glass.
“You tryin’ to drink a whole bottle by yourself? Shitfaced is no way to attract a woman.”
“Barely feelin’ a buzz, buddy.” With his metabolism it would take a full bottle of Scotch to get him good and drunk. And he’d have to drink it quickly.
“Jack and Coke, please,” Richard requested, when the bartender made his way over.
“What about you?” Grayson asked, turning toward his friend.
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
Grayson snorted. Richard was about the farthest thing from a gentleman that he could imagine. In all the years they’d known each other, Richard had never been picky about his sexual partners. Man, woman, group… it didn’t seem to matter. And while he was polite enough in mixed company, Grayson had heard more than his share of Richard’s conquest stories.
Yet oddly enough, when he wasn’t crawling through a jungle and assassinating dictators, Richard very much enjoyed the finer things in life. Expensive cars, fine watches, pedicures. Grayson shivered at the thought.
“Already bagged the masseuse,” Richard whispered. “Sweetest cunt I’ve tasted in a long,” he stretched out the word, “time.”
That didn’t surprise Grayson in the least. Richard enjoyed massages almost as much as he enjoyed sex.
“See anyone interesting?” Richard asked.
“Maybe.” A beautiful someone with intense blue eyes.
“Well, have fun.” Richard slapped him on the back. “I see something that tickles my fancy.”
Grayson shifted atop the barstool and watched his longtime friend stalk to the patio. A glimpse of red silk against ebony skin caught his attention and he bolted to his feet. An invisible force pulled him to the door, drink forgotten.
The vampiress sat at a round patio table, alone except for a single goblet. Her long black hair shielded her face from his view, but he knew her profile by heart. Had memorized it that day in the woods. Her heart-shaped mouth haunted his dreams.
Richard approached her table, and Grayson growled low in his throat. A few of the other guests glanced his way. Grayson knew the rules of Mystic Isle. No fighting. No weapons. But he also knew that if Richard wanted her, Grayson would fight him to the death.
Whoa. As quickly as the thought entered his mind he tipped his head back and glanced up at the stars. What the hell was wrong with him? Richard was his best friend. A little abrasive sometimes and ultimately a man-whore… but they’d been through too much to end their friendship over a woman.
Nevertheless, Grayson held his breath as Richard stopped in front of the blue-eyed beauty. He exhaled when she tipped her head back to look up at his friend. For a moment, everything stopped. Time. The ocean. His very heartbeat.
Richard said something, but Grayson couldn’t hear over the music and waves lapping the shore. There was a brief shake of her head. Richard leaned in closer. She cocked her head to the right and fingered the stem of her wine glass. Grayson’s gut tightened, wishing those fingers were running over his skin. Caressing his cock in the same absentminded fashion, bringing him to life before she finished him off.
Richard frowned and backed up a step. It wasn’t very often that his friend struck out. But perhaps the vampire could smell the masseuse on him. Or perhaps she could smell all his past lovers. Whatever the reason, she’d shot him down flat. Richard offered her his charming “you’ll-be-mine” smile and then strode away.
The knot in Grayson’s stomach eased ever so slightly. His mystery woman finished off the glass of wine and the waiter immediately brought another. He’d always thought of her that way, the one woman who’d eluded him all those years ago. She was a puzzle and he’d always wondered what made her tick.
What her voice sounded like.
Had she made it out of the war? And if so, what was she doing with her life?
Was she married? Did she have children? Did she want children?
Did she have parents still? Brothers and sisters?
He settled at a table just inside the door, his chair facing her. He watched her finish off the second glass of wine and then a third. Her gaze never strayed from the moonlit ocean.
If she knew he was watching her, she gave no indication. Never glanced over her shoulder at him. But Grayson could feel the electricity arcing between them. An invisible but tangible connection that made him cross his arms over his chest so he wouldn’t stride over there and toss her over his shoulder. No matter how much the idea suited, he needed to go slow — on a private beach where he could rip her clothes from her body and make her his.
Look for it December 4th.