Luscious Craving (16 page)

The table was low, surrounded by red and gold cushions. I sat down, and immediately some sort of silent internal mechanism in the cushions adjusted them to provide perfect support. “I want one of these in my car,” I said.

The waiter poured a sample of white wine into Ash’s glass. Ash picked it up and sniffed it as he swirled the wine in the glass. Taking a sip, he held it in his mouth a long moment. Then, swallowing, he nodded.

“I took the liberty of ordering,” Ash said, after the wine was poured and the waiter departed. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I leaned back against the cushions, my eyes challenging his. “You always like to be in charge, don’t you, Ash?”

Somewhat to my surprise, he nodded. “I often find it best, yes. Being out of control can lead to…unfortunate results.”

I felt my mind tilt, sliding straight toward the elevator where I had come so close to losing my life, to being made a vampire.
No
! I thought.
Do not go there
. Ash and I had both lost control that night. The consequences would haunt me forever.

“I promised myself I wasn’t going to say this,” Ash’s quiet voice broke into my troubled thoughts. “But the truth is
,
I’ve missed you, Candace.
Very much.”

“Have you?” I asked. I took a sip of the wine, to prevent myself from making a similar confession. Not a day went by that I didn’t miss him.
Very, very much.

“I need to thank you,” I said instead.
“For what you did for
Bibi
.
She seems fine.
Doesn’t remember a thing.”

“Need to, or want to?” Ash asked at once.

I blew out a breath. “Both. You have to know how much she means to me, and I…thank you, Ash.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked with a smile.

“
Don’t be an idiot
,” I said. “Of course it was. You saved her and I’m grateful, but you used her, as well. You’re using me, right this minute.”

“You enjoyed that once.”

“No,” I said with a vigorous shake of my head. “No, I didn’t, Ash. I enjoyed…I
loved
what I thought we had
together
. I never wanted to be your puppet.”

“Loved,” Ash said.
“Past tense.”

“How can it be anything else? Go ahead, Ash. Try and tell me: How? I don’t see any way to go forward and I know we can’t go back.”

He didn’t answer, fingers slowly tracing the rim of his wineglass.
You did it, Candace
, I thought. I held my ground, made my point. I had won. So why
was I
suddenly feeling as if I’d lost instead?

“So how is it living here in the hotel?” I asked, in a deliberate change of subject. I forced myself to relax, lean back against the cushions. My legs were folded beneath me.
Ash’s
were stretched out, long. It would be so easy to slide mine alongside his.

“It’s comfortable,” he said. “I’m staying here until the paperwork on the house is finalized.”

“You’re buying a house? Relocating to Vegas permanently?” I asked, surprised.

He nodded and sipped his wine reflectively. “I had been thinking about expanding my business even before I met you. Vegas
is
the perfect town.
Filled with high rollers looking to spend money on the finest things.
Like my antiques.”

He refilled his glass as our meal arrived. Ash and I ate in companionable silence, one broken by easy, simple conversation, as the rhythms of our relationship began to restore themselves.
How many times had we done this
? I thought. My first date with Ash had been out for dinner. When we became a couple, I often cooked for him in my tiny apartment. Afterward, we would make love.
Feasting on one another more voraciously than we ever did on food and drink.
Even now, not once, had I ever had enough.

By the time the fortune cookies arrived, I could barely swallow past the lump in my throat. Of all the things I had expected tonight, this had surely been the last one: That simply being with Ash again would show me how deeply, how irrevocably I was still in love.

“What does yours say?” Ash asked as I pulled the slip of paper from a fortune cookie.

“The obstacle is the path.” I arched a single brow at him.
“How about yours?”

“To follow the path, look to the master, follow the master, walk with the master, see through the master, become the master,” he said in a grave tone.

I gave a choke of laughter. “It does not! They couldn’t fit that many words on there.” I grabbed his hand and tilted the slip of paper. With a laugh, I read, “You like Chinese food.” I laughed again. “I should have known. You are such a liar.”

“I was only trying to make it sound more mysterious.”

“Sometimes ordinary is better.”

Ash shook his head. “No. You don’t believe that. How can you, when you are so far from ordinary yourself?”

All of a sudden I realized I was still holding his hand, that he was holding mine.

“Ash,” I
said,
my voice no more than a thread of sound. “You have got to let me go.”

His mouth twisted then, into something that was almost, but not quite, a smile.

“The time for that has passed, Candace,” he said. “It moved by us both a long time ago.”

I went absolutely still, then, gazing straight into those starlit eyes, asked, “So what happens now?

“Now?
Now I will ask you for a favor, I think. Kiss me, Candace.
Just once.”

I couldn’t have said no even if I’d wanted to. With my free hand, I reached up and brought his lips to mine.

Ash’s lips were firm and smooth.
Trailing magic, trailing fire.
I parted mine beneath them, deepened our simple embrace, and saw the world explode with color. Only Ash had ever possessed this power, to make my heart believe in our impossible love even as my mind denied it.

“I love you, Candace,” he murmured against my mouth. “Sweet God, I love you so much.”

And then the kiss was over and I found myself in the one place I had promised myself I would never go again: cradled in Ash’s arms.

“It doesn’t matter,” I whispered back. “It can’t matter.”

I saw the muscle in his jaw work as he released me. “You are such a terrible liar. Do it for your own benefit if you must, but don’t trot it out for mine.”

He stood, and I understood suddenly. I had hurt him. I hadn’t known I had the power.

“You disappoint me, Candace,” Ash said. “I thought you had more guts.”

I stood up myself then, pretending I didn’t notice the way my knees were shaking.

“I’m done here, Ash,” I said. “We’re done. I want to go home now.”

“And you think I’m going to try and stop you, don’t you? You think I can’t survive without you. You have no idea how wrong you are.”

I’ll never know what made me say it.
Guardian angel or inner devil-child.
But it was the truth, either way.
A truth that was never going to set either of us free.

“I love you, too, Ash,” I said. “Now call the damned limo.”

The short trip from the restaurant to the curb was accomplished in total silence. Ash and I were both infinitely careful to avoid so much as brushing together, as if equally uncertain of the consequences. He let the limo driver hand me into the backseat.

“Thank you for the meal, and for helping
Bibi
,” I said.

“You’re welcome.”

For one split second, I thought he would say something more. Instead, Ash stepped back, and the driver shut the door. The last thing I saw as the limousine pulled away from the curb
were
Ash’s hands, curling into tight fists at his sides.

“Where to?” the driver asked, after several blocks had gone by. That was the moment I realized how very much I did not want to go home.
Home to peace and quiet and far too many memories of Ash.

“Just drive along the Strip, will you?”

“Sure thing,” the driver replied.

I need light
, I thought.
Light and color and sound.
All the things that make Vegas so enticing.
That make
it so alive.

“Here, let me out here,” I suddenly called.

I caught the driver’s startled gaze in the rearview mirror. “You sure?” he inquired. We were nowhere near my house.

“I’m sure,” I replied. Obediently, he edged the limo over to the sidewalk. “Thanks,” I said as I climbed out.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “Have a nice night, now.”

That’s just what I intend to do
, I thought.
Starting now
.

I flipped open my cell, paged through the recent incoming calls.
There it is
, I thought. My evening out with Ash had done something to me, something I didn’t like much. It had opened up an empty space inside me, a space that was cold and empty and dark. I intended to fill it with what I wanted there instead, something funny, vibrant, and alive.

Praying he would still be free, that he hadn’t opted for some other form of Vegas
entertainment,
I punched in Michael Pressman’s number.

Eleven

“Hey, Candace.”
Michael’s warm voice came through my cell, despite the noise of the traffic all around me. “You’ve got the best timing in the world.”

“I’ve heard that line before.”

His laugh came through the phone, and I felt my tension ease a little. It was going to be all right.
Fun
, I thought. Fun is precisely how I had described Michael to
Bibi
.
Precisely what I wanted right now.

“Well, it’s not a line this time,” Michael went on. “They just called an extended break because they want to rearrange the cameras for taping the next rounds.”

“How long do you have?” I asked.

“A couple of hours minimum.
They’ll call us when everything’s ready.” He paused. “I thought you were busy this evening.”

“I was,” I said simply. “Now, I’m done. I’d really like to see you, Michael.
If you’re still interested.”

“Just tell me where you are.”

“Why don’t we meet at the Venetian?” I proposed. I looked at its brightly lit sign towering above the Strip. I went toward one of the pedestrian bridges that kept tourists from ending up as traffic statistics. “It’s about halfway between where I am and the
Sher
.”

“Sounds great.
Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll be in the loggia there,” I told him as I crossed over the eight lanes of traffic on the Strip.

“Okay, I’ll find it. Wait for me, and don’t run off with someone else, okay?”