Getting What You Want (19 page)

“May I get you a drink?” the waiter asked, drawing her attention away from Isabel. She ordered an iced tea. The waiter nodded, but Erika noticed his attention was more on Isabel. Not that she could blame the guy.

As the waiter headed back to the kitchen, he bumped into a neighboring table, which Isabel didn’t notice. She had to be used to reactions like that.

“I’m very interested in a sculpture of myself,” Isabel said.

Erika nodded, immediately wondering if she could do her justice. But her features were so symmetrical, so lovely, she’d love to get the chance to capture them.

“Okay,” Erika agreed. “A bust, then?”

Isabel shook her head. “Actually I’d like a full body piece.”

Erika paused, trying to calculate how long that would take her. “That shouldn’t be a problem. And I can work from photos, if you prefer.”

Isabel shook her head. “No. I want to model for it. This is a gift for the love of my life—and I want you to capture my very essence in each curve of the clay. I’ve seen your work, and I know you can do that. But I would prefer to pose.”

Erika nodded, surprised. Not many people liked the idea of standing still for the time she’d require. But she also understood Isabel’s reasoning. That was the very reason she’d wanted Vittorio to pose, too. She could attain more of his essence by looking at him, rather than using a two-dimensional image.

“Sure. I can do that.”

The waiter returned with tea, nearly spilling it as he admired Isabel. Only Erika’s quick catch saved her from wearing the icy liquid in her lap. There were clearly some drawbacks to being so lovely, Erika realized.

The waiter remained at the table, as Isabel ordered a steak, very rare. Erika found the order surprising. Given her svelte form, Erika would have pegged her for the salad and mineral water type, not the red meat and red wine type.

After the waiter left, narrowly missing another waiter balancing a full tray of food, Isabel asked, “When could we start? I’d like to have the piece as soon as possible. How long do you think it will take? I have no idea what kind of time these things involve.”

“It varies,” Erika admitted. “And of course revolves around when you are available to pose. That could add to the time, if you are busy.”

“I have all the time in the world,” she said with a small smile.

“Then I will get it done as quickly as I can.”

Isabel nodded and took a sip of her wine.

This commission wasn’t actually occurring at the best time for her, Erika hated to admit to herself. She had a lot left to do for the show. She wanted to sculpt Vittorio for the upcoming show, a full body sculpture of him as well. And she wanted to finish another smaller piece. But this was her first commission, and she didn’t want to lose it.

“I’m willing to pay whatever you think is fair,” Isabel added, then took another sip of her red wine.

Erika gave her a figure, half expecting she’d balk, but Isabel simply nodded. “That sounds fine.”

Erika tried not to grin like a fool. She truly considered the price fair, given the time a full body piece would take and the time constraints she was under, but she’d expected Isabel to be surprised by the cost.

The money certainly made this far too good an opportunity to pass up. It would be tight, but she’d manage to get everything done.

Then she considered something she hadn’t thought of. “As I guess you know, I have a show coming up at The Broussard at the end of this month. It would speed up things if you’d be willing to let me show this piece at the show—then I wouldn’t have to be working on other pieces on the side. I could concentrate on your piece.” And Vittorio, of course.

Erika had second thoughts as soon as the words were out of her mouth. This was a gift, and Isabel would likely want to keep it a surprise.

But Isabel’s eyes lit, gleaming with excitement. “Me? In your show? That would be perfect.”

Erika smiled, although she wondered what would be so perfect about it.

Isabel seemed to read the confusion in her half-smile, because she added, “My love would be so thrilled to see me showcased in an exhibition like yours. He’s very proud of me, you see.”

Erika could believe that. Most men would be overjoyed to have a woman like Isabel on their arm.

As if to punctuate the point, the waiter returned, solicitously placing Isabel’s plate in front of her. Only to move over to Erika and set down her plate with a loud clunk on the tabletop. Several pieces of lettuce leapt off onto the tablecloth.

Neither Isabel nor the waiter seemed to notice.

Once the besotted and dangerous waiter disappeared again, Isabel asked, “Do you have a beau? A lovely thing like you must.”

Erika was a little caught off guard by the question. She paused, mid-bite, lowering the speared lettuce and chicken back to her plate. Again she felt heat creep over her cheeks.

“Yes, I do. Well, I guess I do. It’s a pretty new relationship.”

Isabel smiled, her expression somehow different from the other times she’d smiled, but Erika couldn’t place her finger on what the actual change was.

“I’m sure he’s just crazy about you.”

Erika smiled, then took a bite of her salad. She certainly hoped so, because she was crazy about him.

O
rabella continued down the street after leaving Erika at the street corner, right where the damned harlot belonged. Damn her for ruining her delight at seeing and feeling the sunlight for the first time in decades.

She’d expected this woman to be like the others. They had been the dregs of society. Hard women who’d lived hard lives. Killing them had been doing them a favor, frankly. And given who they were, and what they were like, she’d known that Vittorio didn’t really love them. How could he?

But this one…She fought back the impulse to sneer. This girl wasn’t a bit like the others. She’d expected Erika Todd to be a wannabe artist filled with angst, with a drug problem to help her cope. Instead, she was smart, she was irritatingly kind, her goodness written all over her young, optimistic face. And this irked Orabella more than anything else: she was pretty.

No, while that did truly piss her off, there was something that infuriated her far more. Her ridiculous son had indeed slept with this woman. Orabella could smell him all over her skin like a delicious, expensive cologne. And while the smell was like a lure to her, when mingled with the mortal’s scent it became noxious.

Oh yes, this one was truly dangerous. Vittorio likely believed himself in love with this one, which made her plan all the more precarious. If Vittorio had feelings for this one, real feelings, then he wasn’t likely to understand the favor Orabella was doing him.

And she
was
doing him a favor. That was still the truth, but how to get him to understand that a mortal could never be good enough?
How, how, how?

What would finally prove to him that only she could love him the way he deserved? Then she paused, feeling the sun, the warm, wonderful heat she hadn’t felt for so long, she’d forgotten how brilliant it was.

She’d given him immortality, but he’d resented it, claiming he’d never wanted the change. But she could now give him the sunlight again. Surely he would see the kind of deep love she had for him. She’d make him as human as she could. He’d understand then that her reason for giving him immortality in the first place was totally based in love.

Just like keeping him with her for years was too. She missed those times. When Vittorio had been hers alone. Yes, he’d finally see how much she loved him and come back to her. Even if he did have feelings for this mortal.

Oh, she’d still kill this Erika woman, but it would be just another horrible accident. A tragic death—and Vittorio would ache over the loss. After all, he was her son, and just as sensitive as she was. But that grief would pass. Especially in light of the normalcy she’d return to him.

She and her son would stroll together in the sun. And everything would be perfect.

“That little bitch,” Maksim growled, pacing back and forth on the mattress, peering furiously at the floor around the decadent king-sized bed. He made an angry noise deep in his throat.

Oh, had he ever underestimated that little bitch. He stared down at the pentagram that she’d created around the perimeter of the bed with iron filings. More iron filings lined the windows and doorways, creating a barrier that was impossible to cross.

The only trap that could contain a demon—but he hadn’t expected Orabella to have the intelligence to even know about that. Much less pull it off.

Damn it!
“Damn it!”

“Having a little problem, darling?”

He spun around to see Orabella standing in the doorway. Her lips curved in that sweet smile he’d once considered so easy to read.

“You duplicitous bitch!” He started to jump down off the bed and charge toward her, but stopped short, realizing he’d only end up looking like an ass if he attempted that feat.

“Maksim, it’s not like you to have such a temper. I guess what they say about demons is true. Quick to forgive, quick to anger.”

Maksim grunted. “You’ll see how quick I am to forgive as soon as I get out of here.”

She gave him a hurt look. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I took your cell phone before I started this little artwork project.” She gestured to the pentagram, then pulled his thin, compact cell phone from her purse. “It’s going to be a while before anyone discovers you are missing.”

He growled.

She laughed.

“Why did you do this?” he demanded, his fingers twitching at his sides. Damn, he wanted to kill the little liar.

“Well,” she said, “as you probably guessed, Vittorio isn’t a stalker, nor is he going to hurt that mortal. But I’m going to hurt her.”

Maksim gave her a confused and irritated look. “Like I would care if you did.” He made a face. “Hello? Demon.”

“Oh, I know you don’t care about that. But the truth is I don’t have any use for you anymore, and I knew you weren’t going to take too kindly to me breaking up with you. So I have to take precautions to keep myself safe. And you away from me and my plans.”

“Do you really think my ego is so fragile that I would do something petty, just because you want to break up?”

Orabella pretended to consider the idea. “Yes.”

Maksim opened his mouth to deny it, but then sighed. Who was he kidding? He so would have done something petty. Not to mention, he was this close to just going to Vittorio and asking him outright about Ellina. He believed he would get a truthful answer from the male lampir.

This one, however, he knew he couldn’t trust her to tell the truth. About anything, obviously.

“So what is your plan? To just leave me here indefinitely?”

She gave him a regretful look, then nodded. “I’m sorry to say, but yes.”

He growled again, this time unable to control his urge to strangle her. But when he reached the edge of the circled pentagram, he bounced back, like an invisible trampoline blocked his way. He stumbled backward and fell on the bed.

Staring up at the ceiling, he gritted his teeth as her laughter greeted him again.

“Wow, that works very well. When I read about it, I have to admit I had my doubts something so simple would work. Iron filings—they seem so insubstantial to contain a big, brawny demon like you. Funny what constitutes a limitation for the immortals.”

His jaw ached as he continued to clamp his teeth together.

“Of course, I can’t believe the other demon spell worked just as well.”

He sat upright. “What other spell?”

She made a disappointed sound. “Maksim. Haven’t you noticed something different about me?”

He frowned, studying her. “No, you look like the same manipulative little whore you always were.”

She tsked. “That’s not very nice. And I thought you were fond of me.”

“Fond of the sex with you, baby. Fond of the sex.”

She grinned, his comment seeming to please her. “And thank goodness you were, my darling.” She waved to him, and strolled back down the hallway.

He frowned, wondering what the hell she meant by that, then he realized something he’d somehow managed to overlook in his own irritation. And her comment about the limitations of immortals.

He glanced over to the window. The sun was still out.
What the hell?

Erika stopped on the way home to pick up something for Vittorio to eat. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was still in bed. Vittorio didn’t seem to sleep during the night at all. She’d woken up again after the nightmare, only to find Vittorio watching her. Again with that unreadable, solemn expression of his.

And if he hadn’t gotten up yet, he definitely hadn’t eaten, and she couldn’t allow him to starve. She’d never been a person who felt compelled to feed others. That was Jo—she always had appetizers and meals and desserts made ahead of time if she had company, whereas Erika just didn’t.

So she picked up some turkey po’ boys from a small café and headed home. She was excited to tell him about her meeting. She and Isabel had decided to start the sculpture tomorrow at Isabel’s place, which was in the Garden District. Not surprising given the fact she hadn’t even blinked over the sculpture’s cost, and she clearly dripped money. Her clothes were stunning.

And Erika also hoped to start Vittorio’s piece tonight. If she could keep her hands off him long enough to actually work with the clay and polymer.

When she entered her apartment, the place was silent. She put the plastic sack of food in the fridge and wandered down the hall. Sure enough, Vittorio was still in bed. And it didn’t appear as if he’d moved a muscle.

She smiled. She’d swear that boy was a vampire, if such things existed.

The covers had slipped, leaving his chest and stomach exposed. One leg was bent and uncovered too. He looked like a fallen angel, collapsed to earth and swathed in his torn robes.

Erika suddenly realized that was exactly how she wanted to sculpt him.

Turning back to the living room, she quietly set about creating the scene for where Vittorio would pose. She placed large cushions on the floor near her work area. Then she went out onto the sun porch to get some of the wire framework she used to make the forms for her bigger pieces. The wire mesh would give her the shape and the foundation to add the clay and polymer for the detailed work.

With wire cutters and pliers, she manipulated the metal into the shape she had in mind. She worked for a while, losing track of time, until she realized the room was starting to grow dim around her.

And Vittorio still hadn’t gotten up.

She returned to her bedroom, amazed, but not disappointed that he was still in the same position. He lounged back against the rumpled covers, his body all smooth skin and long, lean muscles. His hair tangled against the blue of her duvet, sexy and wild, a paradox to his angelic face. The face of a saint. Yet a body that made her want to experience every sin she could think of—with him.

Her eyes wandered down his body, and she realized one thing had changed. His large erection was clear under the thin cotton of the sheet.

The sight made her breasts ache, between her legs ache. Oh man, did she ever want to sin.

She moved closer, unable not to touch. Her hands immediately went to him, touching his flat, solid stomach, moving downward to the trail of hair, dark blond and swirling around his shallow little navel. Her fingers began to slip under the sheet, when his hand caught hers.

She squealed, surprised. She looked up at him; he grinned, the turn of his lips lopsided and adorably sexy.

“Were you planning to have your way with me while I slept?”

She gave him an innocent look. “Maybe.”

“Mmm,” he groaned and stretched. “Good thing I woke up then. I wouldn’t want to have missed any of it.”

So quickly she didn’t even see it coming, he caught her around the waist and pulled her down on top of him.

His hand cupped the back of her head and he pulled her down to kiss him. She let him take control for a moment, but then tugged away.

She sat up, her legs straddling him. Her short knit dress rode up, exposing her bare thighs. His hands moved there, holding her.

“I like this,” she said, her own hands stroking down over his bare chest.

“Like what?” His voice low, provocative.

“For once you are totally naked, and I’m dressed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. It’s okay, but I do like to see you all pale and nude.”

She smiled, then she shifted her hips, rubbing her already damp sex against the hardness of his erection. Panties and sheets separated them, but desire shot through her. Vittorio groaned. The fingers on her thighs gripped her.

She moved again, then again. Each movement more arousing than the last, but not enough. Not even close to enough.

So she stood, her feet planted on either side of her hips and worked off her black lace panties, kicking them off.

From beneath her, Vittorio looked up at her, his eyes moving from her face to her parted legs and her exposed sex. His lips parted, and his breaths came in short, sharp pants. His eyes were hooded, his hair tumbling around his gorgeous face.

Erika’s need jolted even higher. She felt powerful, like she was a goddess, and he was worshipping at her altar. Then he sat up, his hands sliding up her legs, over the front of her thighs to curl around and grip her bottom.

He brought his head up and pressed his mouth to her, his tongue lapping up the slit of her sex.

She nearly buckled under that first taste, but his fingers gripped the cheeks of her bottom and he continued to lick and taste her until she couldn’t decide if she was his goddess or his sacrifice. An offering to a gorgeous, golden, heathen god.

Either way, it was fine with her. More than fine, absolutely earth-shatteringly perfect.

Her head fell back, her breath coming in sobbing gasps, as he devoured her. Then the hands holding her whole passion-limp weight slid up to catch her waist.

His mouth left her, abandoning her right at the edge of release. She whimpered, but watched as he lay back, pulling her down with him, until she was kneeling over him again, his thick, hard penis poised right at the opening of her vagina.

Their eyes met and held for a moment, then he pulled her down onto him.

She cried out, her head falling back, her aching body impaled fully on his. Her orgasm wracked her body, vibrating through her over and over until she couldn’t even pull in a full breath. Her ecstasy was too much.

She remained that way, with him still rigid and heavy, filling her until her release subsided and she could focus again.

She finally opened her eyes and looked down at him. His eyes were heavy with desire, his lips parted, his hair tangled around him, and she knew at that moment she was the sacrifice and he the god.

But then she moved her hips and the tables turned. She was the goddess now, demanding her minion to respond. And he did, his eyes closing and a low groan escaping his parted lips, as she rose up, then down on him.

Vittorio moaned as Erika slid back down his length, the tight, hot walls of her vagina holding him, caressing him. His own climax was building fast with each writhing movement of her hips, with each stroke of her body around him, with each curl of her fingers on his chest.