Night's Promise (19 page)

“Thank you, but it isn’t necessary.” He winked at Sheree as she climbed into the backseat. “I have a place of my own.” He was grateful when she didn’t argue.

They arrived at the Westerbrooke home a short time later. Sheree’s mother bid them good night and immediately retired to her room, leaving Sheree to look after Derek.

“Thank you again,” Sheree said. “If it wasn’t for you . . .”

He drew her into his embrace as tears of gratitude flooded her eyes. He held her until her tears subsided, then wiped the last of them away with the pads of his thumbs.

“You’d better get some sleep, love. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Do you really have a place here, in the city?”

“No.”

“Then where are you going to spend the day?”

“At Mara’s place.”

“You heard my mother. You’re welcome to stay with us.”

“It isn’t safe, love. Your mother is here and there are servants in the house. It’s best if I leave. Don’t worry, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You promise?”

“I’ll be here as soon as the sun goes down.” Derek shook his head as her thoughts invaded his. Sometimes, as now, being able to read minds was as much a curse as a blessing. “Come on, love, I’ll get you tucked in.”

“And stay until I fall asleep?”

Nodding, he swept her into his arms and carried her up the long, winding staircase to her room, tucked her into bed after she changed into her nightgown.

“Sweet dreams, darlin’.”

“Thank you again,” she murmured, and tumbled into sleep’s waiting arms.

Derek brushed a lock of hair from her brow, then left the house. He had just enough time to hunt and make it back to California before the sun came up.

 

 

Early the next morning, Sheree and her mother were back at the hospital. Sheree was relieved to see that some of the color had returned to her father’s cheeks and that he was resting comfortably.

Sitting beside her mother on one of the hospital’s hard plastic chairs, Sheree offered a silent prayer of gratitude that she had met Derek. Without him, she was certain her father would have passed away during the night.

For a time, neither of them spoke, both focused on watching her father’s every breath, tracking the lines on the monitors.

After a while, Meredith took a deep breath and turned toward her daughter. “Tell me about the young man who brought you home. Who are his people? Where is he from? What does he do for a living?”

Sheree shifted in her chair as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Derek’s from California. His parents have a lovely home in the Hollywood Hills. Old money,” she said. Then, hoping to impress her mother, she added, “They also own a castle in Romania.”

“Royalty?” Meredith queried, her eyes suddenly alight with interest.

Sheree nodded, remembering that Derek had called his mother the Queen of the Vampires.

“Neil was upset when you left without saying good-bye.”

“Oh, Mom, stop matchmaking. I wouldn’t marry Neil Somerset for a million dollars in gold. Or Ralph Upton, either. I’m in love with Derek, and nothing you can say is going to change that.”

The argument Sheree saw coming died on her mother’s lips when Dr. Carlson entered the room. He nodded at Sheree and her mother, then checked his patient’s vital signs.

“How is he?” Meredith asked anxiously.

“Much better.” He smiled at the two of them. “Someone must have prayed up a miracle.”

Sheree grinned inwardly. A miracle, indeed, she mused, and his name was Derek.

During the next two weeks, Sheree’s father made a remarkable recovery. She spent her days and early evenings at the hospital, but her nights were spent with Derek. He had never been to Philadelphia, so she took him sight-seeing. Of course, going with a vampire meant they went touring when most of the places were closed. Being whisked into museums when they were no longer open added a bit of excitement to viewing the Rodin and the Woodmere, or touring Independence Hall and the quaint home of Betsy Ross.

Sheree supposed it was inevitable that her mother would continue to delve into Derek’s family, since Meredith was enthusiastic about genealogy and had spent considerable time and money tracing the Westerbrooke line.

Derek sidestepped her questions as best he could, claiming, truthfully, that he had no idea who his grandparents were, or where his mother and father had been born.

“Maybe I should just tell her the truth,” Derek suggested one night as he and Sheree left the hospital.

“Oh, there’s a good idea,” Sheree retorted.

“Well, it would certainly keep her busy, trying to trace Mara’s ancestry back to the time of the pharaohs.”

“Does it ever just boggle your mind that she’s so old? I can’t even comprehend it.”

“She’s like a force of nature,” Derek said, opening the car door. “You just have to hope you don’t get in her way.”

Sheree slid into the passenger seat. Sometimes it was hard to imagine that Derek’s mother was a vampire. She was easily the most beautiful woman Sheree had ever seen, elegant and graceful. And deadly. For the first time, she wondered how many people Mara had killed. The number was probably in the thousands, considering how old she was.

Derek looked at Sheree, one brow arched in amusement as he started the car. “Thousands?”

She flushed with the realization that he was reading her thoughts, though why it continued to surprise her, she didn’t know. “Too many? Not enough?”

“I have no idea, but I’m sure the number is considerable.”

“She seems so nice.”

“Nice?” Derek laughed as he pulled out of the parking lot. His mother was a lot of things, but he’d never thought of her as nice.

“Well, she’s been nice to me.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Mara had taken a definite liking to Sheree. “So, where do you want to go tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Home was out of the question. Her mother would be there soon, and she just wasn’t up to listening to Meredith quiz Derek about his family. She wasn’t in the mood to go to the movies. She wasn’t hungry. . . . She slid a glance at Derek. Well, not for food.

His gaze met hers, and the next thing she knew, they were pulling into a motel. She waited in the car while he registered, a million butterflies chasing each other in the pit of her stomach. She knew she was blushing when he got back into the car and drove them to their room.

“You okay with this?” Derek cut the engine, then got out of the car and opened her door. “It’s just a place to talk. I promise not to seduce you,” he said solemnly. “Unless you ask me to.”

If she hadn’t been blushing before, she was now.

Speechless, she followed him inside. It was a lovely room, Sheree noted, but it was Derek who held her attention as he drew the drapes, shutting out the rest of the world.

She stood in the middle of the floor, acutely aware of the double bed behind her. And the tall, dark man standing in front of her.

“We can leave if you want,” he said quietly.

She shook her head vigorously, wondering why being alone in a motel room seemed far more dangerous than being alone with Derek in her own home.

“Perhaps because no one knows where you are,” he said, obviously reading her thoughts again.

He didn’t move toward her, just stood there, watching her.

Predator and prey. The unwanted thought skittered through her mind.

“I think this was a bad idea,” he said, moving toward the door. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Her instincts told her to flee while she could. Instead, she grabbed his arm. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

His gaze moved over her, his expression wry. “We’ve known each other only a short time,” he remarked. “In spite of the strong attraction between us, we’re still strangers to each other in many ways. Add to that the fact that I’m a vampire, and recently a werewolf, and I’d say you have every right to be uneasy.” He trailed his knuckles along her cheek. “I know it upsets you that I can read your mind, but maybe it’s a good thing.”

“I don’t think so.”

He shrugged. “I need to know what you’re thinking, especially when you don’t want to tell me.”

Sheree rested her cheek against his chest. How could he be so strong, so invincible, and so vulnerable at the same time? She should be afraid of him, yet all she wanted to do was protect him, comfort him. Love him.

She sighed when his arms slipped around her waist, closed her eyes when his lips brushed the top of her head. Right or wrong, dangerous or not, this was where she wanted to be.

He held her for a long time, then his thumb lifted her chin and he kissed her, slowly, deeply, as if he had all the time in the world.

Which he did, she thought as she kissed him back. She went up on her tiptoes, her arms twining around his neck as she pressed her body closer to his. He might have centuries, but she had only a few years, and she wanted to spend them all in his arms, legally and lawfully.

“Legally?” He whispered the word against her lips.

She drew back so she could see his face. “Will you marry me?”

He stared at her. Once again, she had surprised him.

“Will you?”

It was wrong on so many levels. Foolish to even consider. Dangerous for her in ways she couldn’t imagine. And for him, too, because if he hurt her it would destroy him. But how could he refuse when he wanted her, needed her, more than his next breath? “When?”

“Now. Tonight.”

He raked a hand through his hair. He had never considered marriage, but one thing he knew, most mortal females wanted a big wedding, a fancy dress, bridesmaids and parties. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her gaze intent upon his face, her cheeks faintly pink. She looked beautiful and uncertain, and at that moment, he loved her beyond words.

Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her lightly. “I’d be honored to have you as my wife.”

 

 

It took only a few minutes of searching on his cell phone to locate a place that performed same-day weddings. The requirements were few: the couple must both be over eighteen and produce a valid photo ID. A marriage license could be obtained on the premises, the wedding performed immediately.

“Are you still sure you want to do this?” Derek asked.

“Yes.”

“You won’t be sorry later that we didn’t get married in a church surrounded by your friends and family?”

“We can always get married with all the hoopla later,” Sheree said. “But I want to do this now, before you change your mind.”

 

 

As promised, there was no waiting. They filled out the license, showed their ID, and five minutes later they were standing in a small chapel decorated in green and white.

The officiator—she didn’t know if he was a minister or not—entered the room moments later. He wore a dark suit and a striped tie. And a toupee that was slightly askew and kept slipping sideways until she was sure it was going to land on the floor in front of her. It was all Sheree could do to keep from giggling as she and Derek exchanged vows.

Once outside, the laughter she had been holding back burst out of her. “Did you see . . . his hair . . . ? It looked like a raccoon perched on top of his head.”

“How could I miss it?” Derek’s laughter joined with hers. “I just hope the honeymoon lasts longer than the ceremony. And, speaking of honeymoons, where would you like to go?”

Taking a deep, calming breath, she said, “Surprise me.”

He thought a moment, then wrapped her in his arms and whisked her to his house in Northern California.

 

 

“Where are we?” Sheree asked when the world righted itself again.

“Sacramento. This is my place.”

“Oh. I thought you lived with Mara.”

“No.”

Nodding thoughtfully, she glanced around the living room. It was large, obviously the home of a single man. The walls were white. The seating, centered around a red brick fireplace, was dark leather; the tables were distressed walnut. There were no pictures on the walls, no knickknacks or magazines on the tables. Heavy curtains covered the windows; the floors were wood.

“Want to see the rest?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Though it was a large house, there were only four rooms in addition to the front room: two good-sized bedrooms—one furnished, one not—with a full bath between, and a spacious kitchen that had no appliances and had obviously never been used.

“Have you lived here long?” she asked when they were settled on the sofa in front of the hearth.

“I had it built five years ago.”

She looked up at him, eyes twinkling. “I’m surprised you included a kitchen.”

His gaze caressed her. “Maybe I knew that someday you’d come along and need one.”

She smiled as warmth flooded her being.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, his voice so soft she wasn’t sure she was meant to hear him.

She turned in his embrace, her lips seeking his as her hands delved under his shirt. He sucked in a breath at her touch, his tongue sliding across the seam of her lips, dipping inside to taste her own. It sparked an immediate response, her whole body throbbing with need, aching for more.

He lifted her onto his lap, his arms cradling her as he kissed her again and again, each one longer, deeper, more intense than the other, until the ache inside her grew almost painful.

In one fluid move, he gained his feet and carried her swiftly into the bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers as a flash of preternatural power removed her clothing and his, leaving her naked in his arms.

A wave of his hand drew back the blankets on the bed. The sheets were cool beneath her heated flesh. It was oddly erotic, his mouth hot as fire, his body cool as it covered hers.

Her hands were restless as they moved over him, exploring the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his biceps, the shallow indentation between his shoulder blades, the coolness of his skin.

He was exploring, too, arousing her with every intimate touch as he learned the contours of her body, the lush valleys, the warm peaks, the hidden places that made her cry out in ecstasy.

Sheree was lost in a world of sensual pleasure such as she had never imagined. She moaned softly, certain she might expire with need, when his body merged with hers. Somehow, she knew what he was thinking, feeling, even as he knew her thoughts and desires. She felt weightless, as if she were floating in air—every touch, every caress, leaving her breathless with the wonder of it, the joy of knowing that he was a part of her now in ways no one else had ever been, or ever would be.

He was hers, body and soul, for as long as she lived.

And in that one timeless moment when their bodies were one, when the rhythm of her heart matched his, she knew a single lifetime in his arms would never be enough.

Sheree gasped as he thrust deep inside her, carrying her beyond ecstasy, her whole being singing, throbbing, to the music of his touch. She clutched his shoulders, sighed as her body spiraled out of control, then sank slowly back to earth.

He shuddered once, then rolled onto his side, carrying her with him, their bodies still entwined.

“Are you all right?” His gaze moved over her, his expression filled with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

“Stop worrying.” She smiled up at him, her fingertips stroking his cheeks, the taut muscle along his jaw. “Thank you for making my first time wonderful.”

“Believe me, it was my pleasure.”

“And mine.”

His hands delved into her hair as he rained kisses on her cheeks, her brow, her eyelids. “I love you,” he whispered. “You’ll never know how much.”

“No more than I love you.”

“I think I might have gone over the edge if I hadn’t had you with me these past few weeks. You don’t know . . . I can’t explain . . .” He swallowed hard, his arms tightening around her. “If you hadn’t stopped me from killing that man and his family . . .” A long, shuddering sigh wracked his body. “I couldn’t have lived with the guilt.”

Sheree clung to him as images of Derek walking out to greet the dawn flashed across her mind. Horrified by the mere idea, she knew he would have let the sun destroy him if he had killed that baby.

“Don’t think about it,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

“I can’t help it. I’m afraid of what might happen next time.”

“It’ll be all right. I’ll be with you. And maybe the old ladies’ serum will work a miracle.”

A miracle, Derek mused. Sheree was the biggest miracle in his life. Would Fate be so kind as to grant him another?