Draven's Crossing: Tempestuous Crossings (5 page)

Exasperated, he shook his head. “Why is it so important to you that these not be dates?”

“I told you on the phone, I don’t fuck clients. Technically, with me leaving the firm, you’re my boss now. I don’t need people getting the wrong idea about how I got this job.”

He sighed. “You care that much about appearances? You’re attracted to me.”

“And?” She gave him a look that clearly said that part wasn’t important.

Draven was pleased she didn’t deny it. “To be honest, to me they’ll be dates. You can think of them however you please.”

“Then I can’t go with you. They can’t be dates in any way.” She shook her head and moved away, much to his annoyance.

“You are being so difficult.”

“Says you. You’re not the employee here. You have the power.”

“And yet you can slap me with a sexual harassment suit or go to the press and tell them all the tawdry details of our phone conversation.”

“As you said, you don’t care, so how would that hurt you? You’ve also stated that your sex life isn’t any of their business and the public wouldn’t care,” she pushed back.

He shrugged. “They won’t. Only you seem to be making a big deal out of this. You haven’t answered my sexual harassment claim.”

“You’ve smelled my attraction to you and I just…I don’t know.”

“Just because you’re attracted and allowed me to talk to you in a particular way doesn’t mean it doesn’t become unwanted,” he pointed out.

She nodded. “True. It’s just—”

“You wouldn’t feel you had a right after you’ve allowed me to talk to you in such a way,” he finished. “If I go too far, tell me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, nor will I tolerate people speaking about you and acting as if you didn’t earn this job.”

“You want to fuck me.” Her hands dropped to her sides. She seemed to have calmed down.

“I don’t deny that. I can’t deny that. But you did earn this job even if some of my motives weren’t entirely pure. You offered up better options than your former employer.”

She shook her head. “I’m sure a local agency would have done better.”

“Don’t put yourself down. How about a deal?” As opposed as he was to the idea that had risen, he knew to be fair he’d have to say it.

Her head cocked to the side. “I’m listening.” Her liquid, brown eyes filled with curiosity.

“If you’d like me to, and this is totally up to you, I can meet with another agency and see what they’re ideas are.” He waited for her answer. Indecision showed on her face.

“How about this,” she started. He held back a grin and allowed her to talk. “I go to these events, experience the town, and you hire another agency to make their own campaign. In a blind draw, you pick the one you like the best for the ball?”

Draven admired her competitive spirit. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go for it. Does this mean you won’t be part of my P.R. department?”

She shook her head. “No. I can’t be.”

He let out a long, suffering sigh. “Fine. But the security detail will remain. I don’t entirely trust that David is gone. Now, we’ve kept the chef waiting. Time for dinner, and if you protest I will take you over my knee.” Draven held out his hand. “Ready?”

This time she took it, but didn’t smile.

“I promise I won’t bite, unless you ask me to.”

He watched her shudder. Goosebumps broke out over her skin, and she held back a smile.

Chapter Three

Rose tried not to squeeze her thighs together. The consistent pulse of need grew at the mention of Draven’s bite. There were legends that said the smallest scrap of a vampire’s fangs could bring unbelievable pleasure. Looking down at his hand again, she went over her options.
I can either take the gesture or continue to be rude.
With a sigh, she accepted his hand. His skin was warm and dry, with the rough edge of calluses on his fingertips. That slightest brush of roughness against the back of her hand sent a ripple of need up her arm and throughout her body.

She tried to shove it back, but that made it worse. The slow, burning fire inside blazed stronger. Sucking in a breath, she ignored the longing and glanced toward the doorway. “Are we having dinner or not?”

The butler from before appeared in the entryway. “Sir? I’m sorry to disturb you, but there’s an important phone call for you, and they say they won’t wait.”

Draven sighed. “Duty calls. If the call goes too long or I have to leave, I’ll have the chef put together a plate for you to take home. Be right back.”

He bent down and kissed her cheek before leaving the room. The moment he released her, she felt the loss. It was as if he’d taken the heat with him.

Despite the fire, she hugged herself, rubbing her arms and crossing her legs at the ankle, unsure of what to do. She brought the glass of wine to her lips, ready to take a sip, but moved it away. With a shake of her head, she looked around for a place to set it down. The alcohol held no appeal. What had once been used as a distraction or means to relax her had lost something in Draven’s absence. She didn’t want to admit that it had been used as a wall and grounding point.

She swallowed hard and scanned the room filled with antique furniture. Unlike Draven’s office, this space looked like it had been decorated by someone with a taste in antiques. Heavy armoires, side tables, couches and chairs overflowed in every nook and cranny. The dark wood made the room feel cold and aloof. There was a weight in the air that made it hard to breathe, stifling the space around her. The furniture looked clean enough, not a mote of dust floating in the air anywhere. Not seeing an empty space for her glass, she put it on a side table near the fireplace. As she wandered around the room, she felt like an intruder. Her heels clicked on the dark hardwood floor. There wasn’t even a small rug to dampen the sound.

“Oh, you must be his new play toy,” a high pitched, twittery voice uttered from the far side of the room.

Turning her head, she caught sight of a curvaceous brunette standing in the doorway decked out in furs and silk. Long strands of diamonds hung around her neck catching the light of the overhead chandelier. Inky, black hair was piled high atop her head with curling tendrils framing a diamond shaped face with delicate features. A cruel smile curled her bright red lips. The woman strolled gracefully across the room and held out a gloved hand. “Ileana.”

Rose accepted the handshake. “Rose.”

The woman’s grip was loose, insulting, and lasted a few seconds. A sense of disgust rose up within her.

“Rose,” the woman purred with a foreign tinge to her tone. “Such a sweet name.”

Instead of focusing on the veiled insult, she turned her attention to something else in the room. “I’m not his plaything or girlfriend. I’m the head of the advertising campaign for the masquerade ball he’s pushing to be held in town.”

Rose retrieved her wine glass and took a sip, ignoring that it had warmed by the fire.

“Of course you’re not his girlfriend. I am. Well, fiancée, but such trivialities don’t need to be observed. He’s mine.” The claim was obviously a warning to back off and not get any ideas. Rose doubted what the woman said was true. Draven didn’t seem like the type of man—regardless of rumors—to cheat on a significant other, much less allow himself to be tied down to anyone in anyway. Which suited her just fine. One more reason to ignore whatever attraction she had for him.

“I don’t want him.” She took another sip of her wine and looked around. The room seemed to have gotten smaller since Ileana arrived.

A pained laugh filled the air. “Don’t be ridiculous, girl. All women want Draven.”

“I’m sorry, honey, business called me…Ileana. What are you doing here?” Draven’s sullen tone said it all. “I was told you’d be out of town for the rest of the month. Have you decided to move up negotiations with the town? I have the building plans for that mall your family wants built on the other side of town in the Paon Vert district ready.”

He slid into the room, giving Ileana a wide berth before settling beside Rose. His arm wrapped around her waist. For a second, she flinched and began to move away. He squeezed. A glance up at his face showed his features were hard with an angry glint in his eyes.

Ileana’s displeasure was clear. Disgust flashed on her face before disappearing behind a smooth façade. A smile that didn’t show in her eyes curled on her lips. There was a lack of warmth or triumph in her expression. “No, I just got back tonight. I wanted to come here straight away, see if you were free for dinner.”

She clasped her hands behind her back, pushing out her large chest. The diamonds sparkled in the light with each breath she took.

“No. I’m not free for dinner. If you want an appointment, call my office.” Draven’s body relaxed next to her. “If you’ll excuse us, we haven’t had dinner.”

He squeezed Rose’s side again before removing his arm. Grasping her hand, he led her out of the room, leaving Ileana alone.

Rose tried not to feel smug, but couldn’t help it. He’d chosen her.

“I’m sorry about that. Ileana is the daughter of one of Draven’s Crossing’s most prominent vampire families. She believes herself to be my perfect match.” Draven’s grip on her hand didn’t loosen. She didn’t insist that he let go, either.

“She also fancies herself your fiancée.”

A choking sound came from above her. If it were even possible, he seemed to become paler. “She said that?”

“Yup. Tried to warn me off of you.” She managed to take a sip of wine as they went, amused by the horror on his face.

His features became stony. “Who I date is none of hers or anyone else’s business. I’m not some fucking stallion needing to be paired off. Ridiculous.”

“This is a business dinner, remember? Not a date,” Rose pointed out.

He grinned. “This is a date to me.”

“You’re delusional. This is business, plain and simple.” After taking another sip of wine, she waited for his next move. They entered a small, dimly lit room. Candles flickered on a circular table. A fire burned in the hearth. The atmosphere spoke of seduction, not business. “Draven—”

“I just love how you say my name,” he murmured next to her ear.

She jerked back, shocked at how close he’d gotten without making a sound.

“And this is a date. In my mind, I’m seducing you.”

“We said—”

“That was before that
woman
came here trying to stake her claim on me.” Draven pressed a kiss to her temple, heating her skin and causing her heart rate to spike. She sucked in a breath. “I’m all yours. Remember that.”

Draven pulled away. This time the heat didn’t leave with him. Instead, it remained, spreading through her body like a gentle wave. Pushing back as much desire as she could, Rose straightened up. “You know,
Mayor
, this could be seen as going back on a promise. As a voter, I’d find that very hard to forget.”

He chuckled. “Ouch. But you don’t work for me. You’re working the ad campaign, and as for the voter aspect, I’m sure you can overlook this.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a charmer.”

“I’m sorry again, sir, there’s another call for you.” The butler entered the room and went directly to Draven. With heads bent together, they spoke in low tones. Draven’s face hardened. Anger flashed in his eyes, and his whole body went rigid.

“Son of a bitch. Get the fucking police chief now, and dial Jagger, too, and have Hamilcar meet me at the office. This shit has to stop. I’m sorry, honey. Dinner has to be postponed. Something’s come up.” He ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. His lips thinned until all she saw was the seam of his mouth. Nostrils flaring and fists clenched, he headed out of the room. “Put a plate together for, Rose,” he barked as he left.