Shifters Gone Alpha (21 page)

Cameron considered it. “How could you do that—considering you’re, you know…”

“That’s why I’m here. You know what I am.” Antoine cast him a knowing look. “I need a human to run it, manage the daily tasks involved that I can’t see to.”

“Me?” Cameron pointed to his chest, surprise etched on his features.

“Does it interest you?”

“You want me to manage it?”

“Yes,” Antoine said. “Help me turn it into an art colony.”

“I don’t know, Antoine. I have a job and everything here.”

“
Everything
what? Family? A lover?”

“No,” Cameron said with a sheepish grin. “Nothing like that. My family lives in California and I don’t remember how long it’s been since I had a girlfriend.” He glanced at the blank white walls in the living room. “I don’t even own this place.”

“Tell you what. I will pay you twice what you currently make and all your living expenses would be taken care of.” Antoine stood.

Cameron’s mouth dropped open.

“I understand it’s a big decision. You need to sleep on it.” Or maybe he needed something more tangible to make it real. “Why don’t you come and visit so you can see it for yourself before you decide.”

Two weeks later, Cameron arrived on DeRoche Island. Antoine gave him a tour, during which time Cameron uttered short phrases such as “wow” or “this is amazing,” as he rushed from one room to the next. The second time though, Cameron took a slower pace, marveling at the beauty of the stone interior in much of the castle.

In one room with unfinished drywall, Cameron said, “We need to finish the walls and hang paintings, maybe some tapestries.” Moving to a sculpture Antoine had set into the corner of the room, he added, “Let’s move your sculptures out, front and center. You’re the artist who lives here. We should move this piece into the foyer to give visitors a sense of what they’re walking into. And a grandfather clock. Naturally.” He gestured with excitement as he spoke. “We should designate rooms by their purpose—salons for painting, soundproof rooms for music, common areas for socializing. Oh, and some of the smaller rooms with views of the ocean are perfect for writing or reading, or even just staring out to the sea and contemplating life.

Antoine chuckled at Cameron’s unrestrained enthusiasm. “I take it you’re interested.”

Cameron paused in his frenetic brainstorming. “Since you left, I’ve been playing around with the idea. I checked out other locations that offer residencies online, and I think it’s a great idea.”

“Do you need more time to think about it?”

“Hell no,” Cameron said. “It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.” He nodded at Antoine. “I’d love to be a part of it if you’d let me.”

Antoine smiled with relief. If Cameron said no, it would be a great setback to his plans. “Let’s toast it with a drink.” In the room Antoine called a library, he poured them each a glass of fine Porto. The room only had one bookshelf and two armchairs, but it had potential. “To our joint venture.”

“To new beginnings.” Cameron clinked his glass. “We need a name.”

Antoine thought about his days in the Paris art world a century ago. In homage to his days of learning in that period now known as La Belle Époque, when the arts flourished, he proposed, “Les Beaux Arts at the Chateau DeRoche”

“French. And chateau instead of castle,” Cameron said. “I like it. Rolls off the tongue.” He raised his glass. “To the chateau.”

Chapter Four

Light Pierces the Dark

Antoine slept during the day while Cameron took care of the operational tasks that were more difficult to accomplish by night. Although Antoine was initially worried by Cameron’s indecision about business matters during the first few weeks, he relaxed when Cameron grew more comfortable in his new role. Soon Cameron became indispensable, both as a business partner and companion.

Antoine had not changed much of the interior of the castle. Since the previous owner had run out of money, the castle remained half-furnished. He trusted Cameron to research options for new designs. Although he had a brain for finance, Cameron surprised him with his aesthetic eye as well. Cameron researched medieval and gothic furnishings online and presented the most suitable options to Antoine. They spent several months furnishing the castle with many of the designs in dark shades of wood and upholstered in a rich red velvet.

When they were eventually ready to open up the colony to residents, the weeks flew by. They initially accepted a few visual artists, and a new era in Antoine’s life began.

Artists and musicians trickled in from around the world staying for a couple of weeks to a few months. Many prospered while others abandoned the isolated island rather quickly. These first few years were learning experiences for both Antoine and Cameron. They discovered talent wasn’t enough for a residency, but a certain type of personality was needed, as well. Someone who was independent, a self-starter, who didn’t need someone to hold his or her hand. Antoine and Cameron finessed the recruiting process, and over the next decade, built up the chateau to be one of the most sought after and exclusive art residencies in the country.

One evening, Cameron and Antoine met in the library to go over some of the more promising applications. Antoine pulled out one from a young grad student named Savannah Evans. She spent her days as a teaching assistant, but her passion was writing poetry. As he read her poems, something about her words touched him. He couldn’t place it exactly, but it was a youthful, somewhat naïve view of the world. Whatever it was, her voice was a refreshing break from all the decades of cynicism and terror he’d experienced.

“Her,” Antoine declared, pressing his index finger down on the application.

Cameron scanned her application and essay. “She has potential, but also a limited income. No way she can afford a residency here.”

“That’s why we have scholarships set aside.”

Although Cameron usually spoke to the potential residents, Antoine said he’d take this one and phoned her.

“Savannah Evans, please.”

“Speaking.”

Hearing her voice made him tremble with excitement and anxiety, and he almost slammed down the phone. “I’m Antoine Chevalier, the owner of Les Beaux Arts at the Chateau DeRoche.” He fought to keep his voice even. “We were impressed with your work and would like to offer you a residency.”

“You would?” The excitement in her voice was clear.

“Yes. On a full scholarship.”

She squealed and thanked him profusely, filling him with yet another odd sensation. The gratitude from residents always made him feel good, but something else was going on, which he couldn’t identify. He turned the conversation to her poetry and found she was well versed in the visual arts and literature as well. He was amazed at the insights from someone so young.

Whatever it was about her, it tormented him for weeks. He was plagued by jitters, something foreign to him. Him, a one hundred year old vampire feeling giddy over a young ingénue he’d never met? It was insane.

He paced the floor of his library the night before Savannah’s arrival. She’d come to the chateau during the day while he was dead to the world. How he wished he could welcome her from the ferry and walk her over to the chateau. He’d love to see the look on her face when she witnessed his life’s work for the first time. But that was not to be. His world was one of darkness and it would always remain that way.

When he woke the next evening, he knew she’d arrived. He sensed her presence in the castle, something that attracted him before he’d even left his room. Cameron would have already given her a tour and brought her to her room. Antoine took extra care as he dressed for dinner, stifling his nerves. He wore his usual dark attire, black pants and long-sleeved button-down shirt, and then walked up to the dining room.

When he saw Savannah seated at the table, he inhaled sharply. Online photos of her didn’t do her justice. Her hair was far more lustrous, set in large curls. Her blue-gray eyes stared at him in a way that left him at a loss for words. And her scent,
mon dieu
, it left him speechless. Beyond a light floral perfume, a feminine scent made every sense in him roar vividly to life.

He regained his bearing and strode over to welcome her. “Savannah, I presume. I’m Antoine.” He took her hand and kissed it. That gesture was a terrible mistake—both bloodlust and physical lust almost overcame him. In his young vampire years, he wouldn’t have been able to overcome a pull so powerful, but he’d mastered self-control over the years and stifled the urges.

Her bottom lip trembled slightly before she spoke. Did he affect her a fraction as she did to him?

“Antoine, it’s a pleasure.”

The shape of her lips captivated him. As a sculptor, could he ever catch such soft, sensuous curves in something as hard as a marble statue?

Something about her affected him, some sort of magnetic life force that drew him in. The pull to her was deep and unexpected. He kept romantic entanglements out of his life at the colony. It wasn’t suitable for a proprietor to seduce the residents.

Over the next several days, Savannah adapted to life at the colony, although she admitted the drastic change from her life was a difficult transition at first. During the evening dinners or gatherings in the common rooms, she’d listen to others talk, but eventually came out of her shell and shared highlights about her day and what she’d worked on. Every day she’d walk along the coast or on hiking paths through the forests. His wish to be able to accompany her on these walks surprised him—not that he ever could during daylight.

Antoine’s fascination with Savannah grew as they conversed about a number of topics. She had a sort of intuitive knowledge of the world, odd for someone so young and of this generation. She favored the fashion of decades past, in particular, the style of Old Hollywood. He attributed her choice to being an old soul in a young nubile body.

When she spoke of art or poetry, her speech quickened with excitement and passion flickered through her eyes. The light that burned within her drew him even closer—as if her alluring scent wasn’t difficult enough to resist. Antoine forced himself to keep her at a safe distance for her own wellbeing, ensuring they were never alone. He only spoke to her in group settings and tried to control his rising attraction to her flame.

Despite his attempt at detachment, something odd happened to him. He began to dream again, something he hadn’t done since he’d been turned. The dreams all had one thing in common—Savannah. Some so erotic in which he’d have to pleasure himself upon waking. Others more innocent, simply talking or walking with her under the stars on DeRoche Island.

The way she often glanced down in a shy manner when their gazes caught led him to believe she wasn’t very experienced with men. With her eyes wide and lips parted, she stirred things in him. Woke up a part of him that had slumbered for over a century. And that smoldering glimmer behind her blue-gray eyes indicated one thing—she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Regain some self-control. You can’t go where your dark thoughts are taking you.

Yet knowing she was in the castle, sleeping in the same residence as him every night drove him half mad. She dressed there, showered there, slept there. What treasures he would give for one night with her. To watch her strip off one of her vintage dresses, revealing her satin skin inch by inch just for him. His seduction would be slow and sensual, driving her just as insane with need for him, before he did to her all the things he’d fantasized about.

What did she do when she was alone in her room? Did she ever pleasure herself thinking of him? Did she ever wonder what their lips would feel like pressed together, hands exploring each other’s bodies?

He couldn’t exist in this way. Longing for her. Dreaming of her.

Maybe one kiss might quench his desperate hunger to taste her lips, wrapping himself in her feminine scent. One kiss. One touch. One night…

After dinner a few nights later, he invited Cameron to the library for a drink.

“What’s going on with you and Savannah?” Cameron asked.

Antoine nearly dropped his glass of Porto, but recovered. Apparently, his attraction to her didn’t go unnoticed. In a nonchalant tone, he replied, “What do you mean?”

“I see the way you look at her.”

He thought he’d been discreet, but Cameron knew him well. “It’s wrong, no?”

“In what way exactly? You mean her being a resident here?”

“Yes, that’s part of it.”

Cameron shrugged. “Some people might judge, but who cares? Frankly, I’m surprised a situation like this hasn’t happened yet in the past decade.”

“A decade is nothing to a vampire. You learn patience and self-control. Besides, I haven’t thought of the other women that way.” He pictured Savannah’s face and his voice dropped to a wistful tone. “Something about her.” Regaining his bearing, he said, “What about you, Cameron? Plenty of attractive women have come to the chateau.”

“Too busy working, I guess,” Cameron replied. “And I think of the residents the way I’m guessing a teacher does of students. I’m here to help them reach their potential.” He took a sip and put his glass on the coaster. “But with you and Savannah, something’s different. With the way she glances at you, I’d say the attraction is mutual.”

So it wasn’t all in Antoine’s head. That was a relief. Yet there were still many complications. “I’m a hundred years older than her.”

“As you are with me,” Cameron replied. “Yet somehow we manage.”

True.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Antoine, and haven’t seen you take an interest in a woman the way you have with her. She’s only here for six more weeks. What’s the worst that could happen—she says no?”

An encounter with a vampire and human could lead to far more dangerous complications. “Among other things.”

“Perhaps,” Cameron replied. “But I don’t see the harm in a little fling.”

Antoine spent the next several nights conflicted about whether to act on his longing or follow reason. Each time his eyes locked with hers, he lost more of the fight for reason.

Her time at the chateau was going by too quickly. Soon she’d return to her world back at the university in Cambridge, leaving him with his longing. And regret for never taking a chance.

He couldn’t let her leave without touching her.

No!

It was wrong. She’d be better off finishing out her residency and leaving the island. She was too young and too innocent to be tainted by a monster like him.

Cameron helped keep Antoine’s mind off Savannah by distracting him with business matters. They met in Cameron’s office to go over quarterly paperwork.

“Some musicians are performing after dinner tomorrow night,” Cameron said. “They want to play some pieces they’ve worked on together in front of an audience.”

“I’ll be there.”

As Antoine walked out of the office, Cameron added, “So will Savannah.”

Antoine shook his head as he continued to his rooms on the lower level. It was simply another performance at the castle. He’d sat through many over the last decade. Yet knowing Savannah would be at this one sent shivers of excitement through him.

The following night, he strode down a stone hallway on the main level. They’d added paintings by residents to the walls, as well as those by masters. His dream for the chateau had panned out well, and he couldn’t have accomplished it without Cameron. He’d have to pay him back one day.

A scent hit him, one that made him freeze mid-step. It was hers, one he’d never forget.

Savannah stood in front of one of his sculptures. He retreated into the shadows of the hall and watched her. She examined his marble sculpture of Apollo, the god of archery, pulling an arrow back on his bow. It was one of his favorite pieces, the musculature in that position was difficult to capture, but he was proud of how it turned out. The moment was suspended in time, right before Apollo released the arrow.

Savannah was there. Alone.

He took a bold step toward her before drawing back into the hallway.

Don’t do it.

He sought answers in the oil painting before him, one of a battle scene in medieval times, but it provided nothing but a reflection of his internal conflict. His gaze roamed back to Savannah. She stroked the back of the archer’s arm. Antoine envisioned the way her fingers would feel traveling the same path over his bare skin, picturing them running down his body. He suppressed a groan. He couldn’t make a sound. If she heard him, she’d know he was there, watching her as if he was obsessed.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth.

Her slender fingers traveled down the archer’s arm, mesmerizing Antoine. Her delicate hands moved in a deliberate manner, knowing what she wanted. If he could see her beautiful eyes, he bet they were full of curiosity, maybe a little reverence for the piece.
His
piece.