Tempted in the Night (17 page)

"Oh, I'm not leaving." He reached up to undo the first button of his shirt. Confused, she watched him undo the next. Slowly, he worked his way down, seemingly oblivious to her standing there. When he began to pull his shirt-tail out of his pants, she jerked to attention.

"Excuse me! What are you doing?"

"I'm going to take a shower and then change clothes. It'll be dark soon and I'm not sitting outside all night feeling grungy and wearing these. Don't bother showing me the bathroom—I saw it down the hall, thanks." He gave her a lascivious smile as he removed his shirt. "I don't care if you want to stay and watch, but you should know that I'm a staunch believer in turnabout as fair play. If you're
gonna
watch me now, I get to watch you later."

Jess stared at him, speechless. The minute he'd removed his shirt and she'd seen his surprisingly muscled chest, covered with a thick mat of dark hair, all coherent thought fled. She'd seen men wearing less to the beach, but none of them had ever caused her pulse to race as it did now.

At the sound of a zipper, her heart skipped a beat and nearly stopped. He was issuing a challenge, testing her nerve—daring her to calmly stand and watch him undress.

She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the doorframe, knowing he wouldn't dare continue.

Smiling, he hooked his thumbs inside the waist of his jeans and shoved them down.

Shocked, she quickly snapped her eyes shut. Then, emitting a noise that sounded disturbingly like a squeak, she raced back down the stairs.

On legs not quite steady, she walked into the living room and collapsed into the chair. What was she to do? She couldn't share a house with
him
. He didn't even wear underwear. It wouldn't matter if the house were twice the size of
Buckingham
Palace
,
there simply wasn't enough room for both of them.

Upstairs, she heard footsteps, followed shortly thereafter by the sound of a door closing and then of running water. John, she surmised, was taking a shower. For some reason, the thought that he was safely occupied for the next few minutes did little to ease the tension building inside her. Try as she might, she could not stop her mind from conjuring the image of him standing nude before her.

She jerked her attention away from the dangerous path it had taken and focused on her plans for the next day. Then she heard the water stop. This was followed a short while later by the sound of his footsteps coming downstairs. Her traitorous heart sped up again. He didn't come into the living room, however, so she stayed where she was.

When she heard the sound of cabinet doors being slammed shut, followed by a clattering of pots and pans, she couldn't help but wonder if he was deliberately trying to make as much noise as he could.

Finally, having listened to as much as she could take, she rose from her seat and headed for the kitchen. As she approached the doorway, she took a deep breath in preparation for the tirade she was about to deliver—only to stop dead in her tracks.

"Don't you ever wear clothes?" she blurted.

Clad only in faded jeans that hugged his body in all the right places, his hair still damp from his shower, he turned when he heard her. A drop of water hanging from a lock of hair caught her eye, and she watched as it dripped onto his broad shoulder where it slowly ran down to his chest. There her eyes followed the mat of dark hair down to washboard abs, and then lower still, where the hair trailed off beneath the waistband of his jeans.

"See something you like?" he taunted.

Feeling indignant, she started to sputter. "Why, I never—"

"Yeah.
That
I can imagine. Well, relax, princess. Your virginal status is safe with me."

Jess gaped at him, hurt despite her effort to ignore the insult. "Why are you tearing my kitchen apart?" she demanded, not making any effort to be polite.

"I'm looking for food."

"Then you can stop making that racket because there isn't any."

He shut the pantry door behind him with a decided click and then turned around so he could lean against the counter. Folding his arms across his chest, he gave her a look. "Are you telling me you had enough time to get all that shit on the table over there but not enough time to pick up some food?"

"Priorities," she managed to say with a saccharine-sweet smile.

"Yeah, well, don't get me started on what I think of your priorities."

Her control snapped. "You know, if you're going to insult me, you can leave.
Preferably as soon as possible."

"No, I can't." He pushed away from the counter, looking like a man stuck with an unpleasant chore he couldn't escape. "Do whatever you need to do to get yourself ready. We're going to dinner."

He had to walk past her to leave the kitchen and as he drew near, she crossed her arms and gave him a defiant look. "I'm not hungry."

He stopped and stared down into her face as if daring her to keep up the lie. He was standing too close, and she wanted to escape as much as she wanted to remain where she was. She felt her body sway toward his as if drawn by some magnetic force.

"I guess I
lied
to you, princess," he said in a voice gone suddenly gruff as he dipped his face closer to hers. "Your virtue isn't safe around me—at all." He closed the remaining space, his lips capturing hers even as his hands stole up her arms and held her tight. He guided her back until she was trapped between the wall and his body. Pure hard male muscle leaned into her and, unable to stop herself, she placed her hands at his waist.

"You are just too damn tempting," he said between attacks of his mouth on hers.

His admission shocked her, and when she opened her mouth to say something, he took advantage of the opportunity and swept his tongue inside.

He moved then and the evidence of his arousal pressed into her, dragging a groan from deep inside her as she got lost in the sensations he was stirring within her.

As abruptly as the kiss started, it ended, and he loosened his hold on her. She felt dazed, unable to focus her thoughts, rattled by the unmistakable hunger in his eyes.

"Here's the deal, princess. I now have two needs, and by God, I'm going to satisfy one of them. So, either we're going to eat or we're going to fuck. You choose."

Jess stared up at him, having no trouble believing that he'd follow through with his crude promise. What bothered her was just how much she didn't want to go for food.

She hesitated too long, and a slow, wicked grin spread across his lips. He braced one arm against the wall by her head and started to lean toward her. In that instant, she knew she couldn't go through with it. For him, it would be just sex, but she wanted more than that for herself.

"All right," she said, surprising herself at how calm she sounded. "There's a nice Cajun place just up the road."

Eating out became a habit over the next two days, but other than taking their meals together, John kept to himself.

On the third evening following his arrival, John still hadn't heard from Harris—nor had there been any indication that Brody was in the area. He and Jess had eaten at a Mexican restaurant that night and as they pulled into the driveway, John kept his eyes peeled for signs of trouble.

The tension between him and Jess was like static electricity. It couldn't be seen, but when they accidentally touched, they both felt the shock. John knew he was to blame. He hadn't touched her since that first night, but that didn't mean he hadn't thought about doing so—constantly. But it would be a mistake and he knew it. Their personalities blended like oil and water. The last thing he needed was to get physically involved with her.

As these thoughts tumbled about in his head, John followed her to the front door, scrutinizing every shadow along the way, watching for anything that shouldn't be there. Once they were safely inside with the door locked behind them, John felt a slight easing of tension.

As he was about to go double-check the back door, his cell phone rang.

"
Boehler
here."

"It's Harris."

Finally
.
"And?"

He heard Harris's sigh, and there was a wealth of communication in what wasn't said.

"How soon will you be here?" he asked after giving Harris the address.

"Five—maybe ten minutes."

"Okay. I'll be ready." He hung up the phone and turned to find Jess staring at him.

"That was my… associate." He wasn't sure how to explain Harris to her. "Brody is in the area."

"Good, let him come. We'll take care of him once and for all."

That cocky, self-assured attitude of hers made him so mad, he didn't know whether to shake her or kiss her. "I don't think you understand how dangerous this man—this vampire—is."

"He's no different than any of the other vampires I've killed," she said defiantly. "Besides, I think your associate is mistaken. It makes no sense that Brody would leave
Washington
,
D.C.
, to come all the way to
New Orleans
.
And why
New Orleans
?
After Hurricane Katrina, there's nothing here." She paused and waved a hand in the air. "Okay, they're having
Mardis
Gras, but still, of all the places he could go, why here? It's too far away."

John took a breath and told himself to be calm. These were all legitimate questions. "Wait here. I've got something in my room that might help answer those questions."

He took the stairs two at a time, leaving her standing in the foyer. At the top, he stopped and looked down at her. "Oh, do me a
favor
,
don't answer the door when my associate arrives. I'll get it."

He didn't wait to hear her grumbled response, but hurried into his room to change clothes. Then he grabbed her day planner from his bedside table. He'd held on to it because he wanted to read its contents, arguing that he needed to know what information Brody might have learned from it. The truth, however, was much more self-serving. He was the one who'd wanted to learn more about her. Now, it was time to give it back.

When he started down the stairs Jess was standing in the foyer holding a sword.

"Where the hell did you find that?" he asked, watching her take a few practice slices.

"There is a case full of them in the study," she replied casually. "As I said earlier, I'm fine here by myself."

Just then there was a knock on the door. As he watched Jess turn to answer it, alarm shot through him.
"Jess!
No!" he shouted, leaping down the six remaining steps as she turned the knob.

He heard her gasp of surprise and grabbed her sword arm just as it went into motion. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he lifted her off her feet to prevent her from moving. At the same time, he saw Harris, quick as a flash, jump from the front door to about fifty paces back.

"What are you doing?" Jess screamed, kicking at his legs. He winced when the heel of her foot caught his shin, but instead of letting her go, he clutched her tighter, giving her less room to fight.

"It's okay," he said breathlessly, still recovering from his mad race to the door. "She's not going to do anything." Then, still holding a squirming Jess, he stepped back enough to allow Harris room to enter. "You want to come in?"

The vampire declined. "Thanks, but I think I'll wait out here."

"Yeah, okay. I'll be out in a second." He shut the door with his foot and then pulled the sword from Jess's hand before releasing her.

"What are you doing?" she bit out, pinning him with an angry gaze.

"You can decapitate or run through any vampire you want—except that one, understand?"

"No," she stared at him, aghast. "He's a
vampire
." She made it sound as if Harris were evil incarnate.

"You don't kill that one, understand? He's not like the others." He leaned over and picked up the day planner from where it had fallen on the floor and held it out to her. "Here, I think this belongs to you."

She stared at it, her eyes open wide. He could imagine the confusion she must have felt. "How'd you get it—I thought I lost it that night Brody…
"

"Yeah, you did. I found it, along with your jacket and some other stuff, in an abandoned building Brody was using as his lair. You
know, the one that had your name written all over it—in
blood."

"What?" She sounded dazed and he swore, realizing that Charles hadn't told her everything.

"That's not all." He tried to figure out how to soften the blow of what he was about to tell her and then decided it would be better if she felt the full impact. "There was a woman there as well, dead. She was about your height and build, and had long, dark hair. Basically, she looked like you." He remembered the moment he'd first seen her and had thought it
was
her.