The Dark-Hunters (216 page)

“Hey,” Nick said, his face offended. “That’s a low blow. Those boxes are collectibles.”

Grace ignored him. “What time is your date?” she asked Vane.

“Six.”

Amanda handed the keys to Nick. “Okay, Nick, have the car at the house by five-thirty.”

“But, but—”

“No buts, just do it.”

They forced Nick out the door, then turned to face Vane with hands on their hips.

It was a good thing Vane wasn’t a goose. Even so, he felt thoroughly cooked when two women looked at him like that. He had a distinct feeling he was in for it.

“All right. You want to date a human?” Amanda asked.

He nodded.

“Then come with us and listen well.”

*   *   *

Bride checked her watch. It was six on the nose and there was no sign of Vane.

“He’ll be here,” she told herself as she checked her hair and makeup again in the mirror while trying not to see anything below her chin.

If she did, she’d want to change clothes, and it had taken her a long time to get up the nerve to wear the low-cut, revealing dress Vane had liked. She opened the front door of her apartment only to find no sign of either Vane. Her wolf hadn’t been back since he’d run off on her.

She hoped that wasn’t a bad sign.

“Get a grip,” she said to herself. She hadn’t been this nervous in years.

But then she hadn’t been this crazy over a man …

Ever.

Someone beeped a horn in front of her gate.

Bride frowned at the silver Jaguar that was idling there. Was that Vane’s car? She grabbed her purse, locked the door, and crossed the courtyard to see a man in the driver’s seat she didn’t recognize.

“Can I help you?” she asked as she drew near.

Around her own age, the man was extremely good-looking, with about a day’s growth of beard on his face. Dressed in a tacky blue Hawaiian shirt, he had dark brown hair and a charming grin.

“Are you Bride?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He got out of the car and pulled his sunglasses off to show her a set of beautiful blue eyes. “Nick Gautier,” he said, holding his hand out to her. “I’m your chauffeur, sort of.”

“My chauffeur?”

“Yeah, Vane got tied up, and they told me to get my butt over here and make sure you got to the restaurant on time with no waiting. He said he’d meet you there.”

Nick walked to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for her.

Bride got in and adjusted her dress while Nick came around to the other side.

“Do you work for Vane?” she asked as he slammed his door shut.

Nick laughed out loud. “Nah. But I’ve learned not to argue with my boss’s wife. She might look all nice and sweet, but she’s a nasty thing when you get her riled. Amanda said for me to do this, so here I am not making her angry.”

He threw the car in reverse and almost gave her whiplash as he spun it around and stomped on the accelerator.

Bride suddenly had second thoughts about being in the car with Nick. He was an odd man.

Who couldn’t drive.

He drove them a few blocks over to Royal Street, which was now open for traffic, and pulled up in front of Brennan’s Restaurant.

Bride expected Nick to get out again and open the door for her, but he didn’t.

“He said he’d meet you inside as soon as he could.”

“Okay.” She let herself out.

Nick took off, tires squealing, the minute she was on the sidewalk.

Okay … he must have had something else to do.

Bride adjusted her beaded shawl around her bare shoulders and glanced about, hoping for a sign of Vane.

There wasn’t one.

Gathering her failing courage, she opened the door and went inside. A young woman dressed in a white blouse and black skirt was at the maître d’ stand. “May I help you?”

“Um, yes. I was supposed to meet someone here for dinner. Vane Kattalakis.”

The girl looked over her ledger. “I’m sorry, we don’t have a reservation for anyone by that name.”

Bride’s heart sank. “Are you sure?”

The woman turned the ledger to face her. “It’s with a
K,
right?”

Bride scanned the names. Her stomach tightened even more when she spotted a familiar name.

Taylor Winthrop.

She wanted to die right there in the foyer. Brennan’s was her favorite restaurant and Taylor had refused to bring her here. He’d always said it was too pricey for him and that he couldn’t see spending that kind of money on a single meal.

What he’d meant was that he didn’t want to spend it on
her.

She was a fool.

“Thank you,” Bride said, stepping away. She balled her hands up in her shawl as she debated what she should do.

All of a sudden, she felt like she was fifteen again, waiting for her prom date to show.

He never had.

He’d found someone else to take and hadn’t even bothered to tell her. She’d learned about it the next day from a friend. And when Tabitha had found out, she’d put liquid heat in the guy’s jockstrap and a poison-ivy potion in his underwear.

Bride loved Tabitha to this day for that.

But there was no Tabitha here tonight to make it better. Surely Vane wouldn’t be so cruel.

Would he?

Had this all been some kind of set-up?

No. He’d be here.

Her stomach in knots, she waited a full ten minutes before the door opened. Bride turned, hoping to see Vane. Instead, it was Taylor with a tall, black-haired woman. She wasn’t overly pretty, but the woman had the body of a brick house.

Taylor pulled up short the instant he saw her.

Bride derived a small, evil bit of satisfaction to see that he had a black eye from his earlier encounter with Vane.

He raked her with a sneer. “Meeting your parents here, Bride?”

“No,” she said. “I’m waiting for my date.”

He leaned over and whispered something in the woman’s ear. She looked at Bride and laughed.

At that moment, Bride felt so small that it was all she could do not to run from the restaurant. But she refused to give him the satisfaction.

A male maître d’ approached from the back of the restaurant. “May I help you, sir?”

“Yes, we have a reservation for two for Taylor Winthrop. And make sure you give us a romantic, secluded table.”

The maître d’ checked his name off the list and nodded. “It’ll be just a few minutes, Mr. Winthrop.”

Taylor passed the man a tip. The maître d’ turned to her. “May I help you, madam?”

She felt her face heat up. “There was a mix-up with our reservations. I’m just waiting for my date to arrive.”

The man nodded again while Taylor laughed at her. “That’s what happens when you date losers,” he said to the woman with him.

Bride’s first instinct was to return the insult, but in truth she felt sorry for Taylor’s trophy date. The poor woman had no idea what a snake she was dining with.

She just hoped the woman never found out.

Bride pulled her shawl up higher over her shoulders and felt three times more self-conscious. Of course, it didn’t help that Taylor and his date kept looking over at her, whispering and then laughing.

She wanted to die.

Just as she was about to leave, the door finally opened and in came Vane.

He was devastating. Dressed in a black Armani suit, he had left his black shirt open at the collar, showing off the powerful tendons of his tanned neck. The ebony color really brought out the green of his eyes. His dark, wavy hair hung loose, and his face was freshly shaved.

He’d never looked more dangerous. More appealing.

Sexier.

Bride heard Taylor’s date suck her breath in sharply at the sight of him.

She half-expected Vane to look at the woman. He didn’t. He had eyes only for her.

He made his way straight to her side, placing his large warm hands on her shoulders and kissing her lightly on the cheek. She melted instantly as she inhaled the masculine scent of him and his aftershave.

It was all she could do not to purr.

“Why are you waiting at the door?” he asked as he pulled back slightly.

“We don’t have reservations.”

Vane scowled at her. “I never have reservations. I don’t need them.” He took her hand and led her over to the counter.

The maître d’ appeared instantly. “Mr. Kattalakis,” he said, smiling. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Hi, Henri,” Vane said, placing his arm around Bride’s waist. “Is my table ready?”

The smile faded as Henri’s gaze went to Bride. He turned instantly contrite. “Oh, I didn’t realize she was your date. She said…” He turned to Bride. “Madam, please accept my deepest apologies that you were kept waiting. Was it Tiffany who left you standing here unseated? She’s new, but I will have her instantly reprimanded for it.”

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling happily at Vane as her heart pounded with relief.

“You sure?” Vane asked.

“Yes. It wasn’t her fault.”

Henri breathed a sigh of relief. “I will still have a word with her and this will never happen again. I promise you.”

The woman with Taylor huffed loudly. “Why do they get a table without waiting, Taylor? He’s not on TV.”

Vane turned toward them with a penetrating glower that shut both of them up immediately.

“Please follow me,” Henri said. “We have your terrace table waiting.”

Bride looked over her shoulder at Vane as Henri led them through the restaurant. “How do you get such great service?”

“It’s good to be king,” he said with a shrug as he tucked his hands in his pockets. “Money talks and a lot of money sings and dances.”

Yeah, but still …

They were led to a corner table upstairs that overlooked the beautiful courtyard below. It had a breathtaking view of the flowering fauna. Henri held a chair out for Bride, who scooted into it.

Vane pulled out his wallet and handed several hundred-dollar bills to Henri. “Do me a favor. That guy downstairs … Taylor. Give him the worst table in the house.”

Henri’s eyes danced with amusement. “For you, Mr. Kattalakis, anything.”

Vane took his seat as Henri walked off.

“That was so bad of you,” she said with a coy smile.

“Do you want me to take it back?”

“Hardly. I was merely pointing out that it was bad.”

“What can I say? I’m just a big bad wolf.” Vane took her hand in his and laid a sweet, endearing kiss to her palm where that strange mark was. It was kind of odd that he didn’t seem to notice it. “You look good enough to eat.”

Heat exploded across her face. “Thank you. You look pretty scrumptious yourself.”

“I’m sorry I was late,” he said, pulling a single red rose out of his jacket and handing it to her. “It took them a little longer to get my suit ready than they thought it would.”

“You bought a new suit for our date?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not really a suit kind of guy. I’m more of a natural beast.”

Two waiters came up to the table dressed in black jackets and ties. One was an older, distinguished-looking gentleman, and by his short stature, accent, and coloring, Bride would take him for a Cajun. The other was a younger man in his early twenties.

“Mr. Kattalakis,” the older one greeted. “How nice to see you with company for a change.”

Vane gave her a hot, searing look. “Yeah, it is nice, isn’t it?”

“Would you like your usual wine?” the waiter asked.

“Sure.”

They looked at Bride.

“Evian, please.”

“You want some wine?” Vane asked.

“No, water’s fine. Really.”

He frowned while the waiters went to get their drinks.

Bride picked up her menu and noticed that Vane didn’t bother looking at his. “Just how often do you come here?”

He shrugged. “A couple of times a week. They have a really good breakfast and I’ve become addicted to their Bananas Foster. What about you? Do you ever come here?”

She squelched the pain she felt at the thought of Taylor and his date, and Taylor’s refusal to bring her here. “I haven’t in a long time, but yeah, I love their food.”

Vane looked relieved by that.

Bride tried to read the menu, but it was hard since he didn’t take his eyes off her. There was something extremely animalistic and powerful about the way he treated her. The way he watched her.

It was flattering and, at the same time, almost scary.

She glanced up at him. “What?”

“What?” he asked back.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I can’t help it. I keep expecting you to not be real.”

His words floored her.

The waiters came back with their drinks. “Are you ready to order now?”

Bride set her menu down. “I’ll have the Brennan salad with no cheese, please.”

He wrote it down.

“And?” Vane asked.

Bride looked up at him. “And what?”

“What else are you eating?”

“Just the salad.”

Vane frowned at that. “Bernie,” he said to the waiter. “Could you please give us a minute?”

“Sure, Mr. Kattalakis. Take your time.”

Vane waited until they were gone before he leaned forward. “I know you’re hungry, Bride. What did you eat for lunch? Half a deli sandwich?”

His question surprised her. “How did you know that?”

“It was a guess since I can hear your stomach rumbling.”

She put her hand over her stomach. “I didn’t realize I was so obnoxious.”

He growled at her. Bride shifted nervously at the sound that wasn’t quite human.

“Look, Bride,” he said, his voice deep and resonant. “I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t know what I’m doing tonight, okay? I’ve never had a date before and I was told that women liked to be taken out someplace nice to eat. Grace and Amanda said that I should be myself and not try to impress you. So here we are at my favorite restaurant, but if you don’t like it here, we can go someplace else and eat something you want.”

Bride’s eyes teared up at his words and what they meant. “You asked someone how to date me?”

He let out a sigh and glanced down at his clenched hands. “Great. Now I’ve made you sad again. I’m sorry. This was a really bad idea. I’ll just take you home and you can forget that you ever laid eyes on me.”

She reached out and took his hand into hers. “Okay, since we’re being honest with each other. I don’t know what I’m doing, either. A week ago, I knew what I wanted. I was a fairly successful business owner, dating a guy I stupidly thought I loved and one I planned on marrying someday.