Eden's Charms (3 page)

“Ah, just a pregnant lady behind home plate delivering a baby,” One of the players yelled into the dugout.

Her knees buckled. Lucian caught her before she hit the ground. Was it seeing her all-time favorite baseball player this close up or the ensuing baby? That little devil Mr. “J” probably had women swooning at his feet on a daily basis.

Out of every scenario Serina had ever played in her head on how to meet the man…this so wasn’t it—breathing heavily, sweaty, and soaked from the waist down. That was supposed to happen
after
she’d met him! With her dignity barely intact, she managed to squeak out a tight-lipped grin in his general direction. That grin flew out of the ballpark with the next contraction.

“The baby’s head is coming—
now!
” Serina panted. She heard people in the stands chanting, “
You can do it
,” and if she weren’t so scared or embarrassed she’d have laughed, but right now…laughing wasn’t an option. Pain medication…
Now that would have been a beautiful thing
, she thought,
if only it worked on vampiric witches.

On the ground, surrounded by news cameras fighting for every angle of the lens they could get, Serina pushed, regardless of the stadium filled to capacity of people watching her deliver her child, as others watched from the comfort of their own homes. Lights, camera, action! The first thing to come out of her was a brown torpedo.

Her dignity was no more.

She did not just go pooh.

She’d always laughed when she heard of other women telling of their delivery stories. Funny thing, she wasn’t laughing now. Lucian was though! Until her fingers tangled in his hair and she jerked his face to within inches of hers.

“I didn’t see a thing,” he said, hidden behind a smirk.

When she doubled over with the next contraction and the baby’s head came out, he lost the smirk. Lucian sat with his wife between his legs and stroked her face. At the first sight of his daughter, tears flooded him while the team’s sports doctor delivered the wee one. Lucian gazed into Serina’s eyes and in that moment in time, he saw the most beautiful, ethereal vision—his wife and daughter laying there both smiling up at him. He bent over, his lips on his wife’s forehead, the happiest man alive.

Sex!

The thought slammed him over the head just as his wife would soon enough for even daring to think such thoughts. He couldn’t help it. He looked around in search of someone wielding a baseball bat.
The entire team. Shit. Alibis for them all.
The smirk resurfaced.

He was about to get his sex life back. This day couldn’t get any better from his point of view. Suddenly Lucian understood a shopaholic’s euphoria wandering into a dollar store loaded with singles.

Typical male.
Serina sent her husband that thought.

Lucian wiped a few stray strands of hair from his wife’s face. “Pretty lady, there is nothing typical about me. She’s perfect. Thank you for such a gift.” Lucian kissed Serina’s lips with every ounce of love he could pour into it. He made love to her with that one kiss in front of the world, with no one the wiser, except for every bleeding heart, romantic out there. Passion burned in his eyes. He pulled away from Serina and kissed the tip of her nose. “M’lady,
je t` aime tant.”

Serina mouthed the words, “I love you too,” back to him as she wiped the tears from his cheeks.

****

“Oh Maestro, I’ll give you one guess what just came across the telly.” Xanti Sinclair skipped across the penthouse from the television to the window, to glance at the statue of Eros in Piccadilly Circus. Finally, he’d found them again. And where Lucian St. James could be found his twin sister, Raven, was sure to follow.

“The supreme court finally got the wording,
IN GOD WE TRUST,
out of our lives forever?” The older man with a neatly trimmed salt-n-pepper beard asked as he slurped at some fluid stuck to his lips.

“Not yet, but think back to a time before cars, before cell phones, computers… Hell before most of the fodder about us had electricity. Remember any one family disappearing into the night?”

The Maestro dipped his head between the thighs of a woman spread out on a table and dragged his tongue down the inside of her smooth, curvy leg. The closer he moved toward her more delicate parts, his two inch ivory posts descended. He’d worked up an insatiable appetite and wanted dessert. He’d given her, her treat, now it was time for his. Completely engrossed in what lay before him, it took a minute to register what Xanti said. Xier looked up. “You’ve my complete attention, son.”

“A birth marking of nobility has appeared on the big screen,” Xanti chirped.

“Lucian St. James and Serina are still of this world? Or is it André and Jovan? And in the name of all unholy things, how did those two men end up marrying two of the most powerful bloodlines of witches? That’s beside the point, what do you know?”

“You knew they’re half-sisters, didn’t you? They share the same father. Anyway, Serina just birthed a daughter for the world to see bearing the royal mark along with her royal fluff.”

“Are you positive?”

“I’m not stupid, Father. I know fluff when I see it.” Xanti pointed to the woman on the table and watched his father’s black eyes glisten. “I would stake my heart on it, Sir.”

“Trust me, if you had one, I’d have done it long ago,” The Maestro remarked coldly as he fondled the woman’s private lips, and she squirmed with delirium.

“I’ve more news. Father, can you feel the vibrations in the air this eve? A ripple of powers to be?”

“Explain yourself, Xanti. Do not tell me the St. James clan will regain power after this long abstinence.”

“He is born today. Xavier’s and my son has been born today as well.”

“Oh this is delicious.” The Maestro shook his head back and forth with his face buried in the woman’s minge. When the words registered he asked, “What the hell are you speaking about, Xanti? Who else was born?”

“What is the date? Three sixes hold this day. I personally saw to it Xavier’s and my son would be born to Raven St. James today. The birth date of our lord and master.”

“How, Xanti? Your brother has been gone over a century.”

“Xavier and I shared a woman, the day before his untimely execution. We bed her then I cleaned her insides out afterwards. I stuck all contents in the icebox including our semen and the rest is history.”

“Xanti,” Xier skeptically asked again, “how do you know Raven St. James bares your child?”

“I found her in Boston shopping, drugged her so she’d have no memory of me and implanted Xavier’s seed into her, along with mine.”

“So, let me get this straight, Xanti. First you evacuated the seed from a woman you and your brother fucked eons past, froze the contents, and then you drugged the illusive Raven St. James, and you of all people, had sex with her and implanted Xavier’s sperm inside her too? You—a son? I’ll be damned. Well, actually, I suppose I already am, but I always considered you a poofer. Humph! And you’re positive beyond a doubt that it was the St. James wench? Did she wear the royal birthmark as well?”

“For the record, I said I implanted the seed. I wasn’t able to see her clearly, due to the dark hour. She had some celestial splat of ink. But it had to have been her.”

“So chances are good that you bed a woman with a tattoo, impregnated her with rotten seed, yours, and now my grandchild is out there somewhere in the world alone.”

A silver cleaver whizzed past Xanti’s head.

“I will be on a flight as soon as possible to end this. I will bring respect to you.”

“Or I’ll stake you, Xanti. You’ll beg me to really kill you. Take Ethan with you.”

“Not the wolf, Maestro. He treats me like a child.”

“If the shoe fits Xanti…” Hearing the door open, Xier turned. “Speak of my devil in disguise.

Ethan Kitt sauntered into the spacious fifteen-room flat, picked up one leg, yanked off one foul, worn-out sneaker, chucked it across the room into a basket and then did the same with his other and headed straight for the fridge. Hungry? He lost hungry about ten miles back. He’d hit stage four. Not good. Stage three was bad enough if he hadn’t eaten but anything beyond this and he got ugly. A fifteen-mile trek, being chased by the cops didn’t seem fair, especially when he traveled the heel-toe-express route and the cops followed in a car, but he lost them. Passing his boss, he gave him a high-five. “Nice catch, Boss,” he said without thinking twice as he passed the buffet on the table. The woman was an appetizer, dinner and dessert all wrapped up in one.

“Did you get it, Ethan?” Xier asked his hand outstretched, waiting.

“Sorry to say, Sir, no. Someone beat you to your treasured tome again.” Ethan took one look at Xanti and choked back laughter. “Oh Christ,” he said as he played with the blond bristles covering his chin. He opened the fridge and grabbed the leftovers of a sub he’d started for breakfast. His mouth full, he almost lost it looking at Xanti.

The son of one the most powerful vamps in Europe stood slouched in a ten-gallon hat, leather chaps covering his designer jeans. Today’s florescent pink T-shirt pick read,
It’s Better To Be Thought Of As A Fool, Than To Speak, And Remove All Doubt
. Either way, Ethan knew there was no mistake; Xanti owned the title of village pilchard.

The vamp even told Ethan he wanted his fangs capped in gold and that he’d found a dentist to do it. He’d told Ethan when he smiled, he wanted people to think of… Ethan had knocked him out cold and walked away before he sullied one of his favorite pirate’s reputations.

“Howdy, Hoss.” Ethan scratched his nose with his middle finger as he passed Xanti.

“Do you see what I mean, Maestro?” Xanti whined. “I don’t want him to go to the States with me. I am capable of going alone.”

“You’re not capable of going to the bathroom alone!” Ethan blurted. He turned his attentions to the Maestro. “So where we going and why, Maestro?”

“New York, Ethan. It appears I am a grandfather.” The Maestro shot a cross glare at Xanti.

Ethan looked at Xanti in a whole new light. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Ethan!”

The Maestro’s voice startled him.

“What?” Ethan asked holding back laughter.

The Maestro raised his voice one more octave. “Bring my grandson home. I want to raise him.”

Ethan’s lips twisted.
No babies, nope I didn’t sign up for babysitting
.
Or kidnapping.
Then out of the blue that random dream he’d had a few months back whacked him over the head. Tall, sultry creature with giant blue eyes left him dazzled.
Why couldn’t we have been having sex instead of putting a bassinette together?
Could this lead him to her? “What about the mother?”

The Maestro turned his black eyes on Ethan and gave a subliminal suggestion using his voice and eye contact. “
You’re a persuasive man, Ethan. You know what women want, and you know how to get it, unlike Hoss
.”

“Father!” Xanti squealed.

Xier lifted a hand to his son that said, “Shut up,” without words. He turned to Ethan. “
Use your charms, but don’t come home without a baby
. Your money is in the account, and I believe your plane, you left at JFK Airport on your last jaunt.”

“Come on, Xanti. I’ll let you pack my bags.” Ethan swiped the younger vamp’s hat and headed back to the fridge, laughing.

****

In London, André St. James sat glued to his telly, his eyes widening by the second as he watched the day’s highlights of the baseball games state-side, only baseball wasn’t what came across the screen. The number one pick revealed his niece making her grand entrance into the world and his sister-in-law leaving nothing to the imagination about the birds and the bees and the end results.

“Jovan? Oh, Auntie Jovan?” André yelled with a lilt in his voice to his wife.

Jovan sauntered into their den wearing only long blonde soaking wet curls. Most of her soft sensual curves were covered by the sun-kissed tendrils. Lady Godiva didn’t look this freaking hot.

“This better be worth it. We’re running late
mon mari
. And Savanah and Julian will be home any second.” Jovan gave André a devilish grin that reeked of sex as she did a slow spin showing off her backside.

“
Cherié
, that was a cheeky shot, literally. We’ll be running even later if you don’t get dressed. Before I lose myself in you, look at the telly.” He handed her a robe to cover up all the distracting areas her scrumptious body offered. And with her abdomen ripe with his child, her breasts full, firm and in his face, there was no better aphrodisiac.

Not a second after he wrapped Jovan up, Savanah and Julian raced in, spilling packages into an already crowded room of suitcases and travel bags.

“Did you hear the news or has anyone called?” Savanah asked breathless. “We caught it at the pub. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Jovan put her index finger to Savanah’s lips. “Shush, Peanut. Look someone just delivered a baby at a baseball stadium. How sweet.”

“As I tried to say, Mum—”

Jovan clamped her hand over her daughter’s mouth. Her face inches from the television, Jovan backed up a step. “Cripes, could they have gotten any bloody closer with the zoom lens?”

“Jovan, look closer.” André tapped on the screen.

“Close enough, thanks.” Jovan noticed her husband wipe his eyes and shake his head. “What?” She asked. “André, are those tears?”

“Oh,
mon amour,
anyone look vaguely familiar?”

“Sort of looks like—oh—my—Goddess—Lucian and is that—Serina?” Jovan swung around fast, her wet hair whipping her husband in his face. “I’m an aunt! You’re an uncle!” Tears fell faster than spilled milk. She yelled, “Savanah, you’ve a cousin.” Then she began to laugh. “Serina’s going to be upset when she sees this and the extra ten pounds the telly added to her bum. She’ll be more upset she didn’t have a shave before going to the game.”

Julian tossed in, “Please tell me that’s a Tootsie Roll next to them on the ground.”

“Jules! Mum! You’re both so bad! I’ll call home and check on everyone.” Savanah headed for the phone.

“Hey, hold up! Is everyone packed and ready for the flight home? Passports? All those measly little bottles, pygmies would die for, all set to go? You know, three ounces or less, locked away in quart-sized plastic zip-up bags, so we can board our plane without getting yanked out of line? Stripped naked? I wouldn’t mind seeing you naked again.” André pinched Jovan’s butt as she passed him.