NightFall: Book One: Bloodlust Is the Cure for the Immortal Soul (13 page)

BOOK: NightFall: Book One: Bloodlust Is the Cure for the Immortal Soul
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Strange.
She’s never experienced this feeling before.

“Indea?
Do you see him? I’ve looked around twice. I can’t find any one who fits Michael’s description of Van.”

“No. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen him.” She shrugged her shoulders. “He mi
ght not show tonight, Simone,”
she informed her sympathetically. “Sorry.”

Simone sighed. “Oh, well. Maybe some other time, I guess.” She didn’t know why it seemed that important to meet this Van, but for some reason, it was.

They decided on one more round of drinks and possibly hitting the dance floor a couple more times. It was still early yet. The music was playing just as strong as it had been when they had first arrived over three hours ago.

Indea jumped off her stool. “I’m heading to the restro
om.
Gotta freshen up.
Be back in a few.” Indea swayed her hips all the way to the ladies’ room.

Simone chuckled.
That girl.
She had male heads turning.
Especially Michael’s
.

All but one, that is,
Simone noticed. She had to do a double take. That familiar chill ran up and down her entire body once more. In the corner, she was sure, sat
that guy Michael was talking about: Van. He seemed to be looking at his table. Without moving his head, his eyes moved upwards, zoning in on Simone.
His penetrating stare seemed to burn
into her very core.
Her mouth agape, she sucked in a huge breath. His eyes hit her like a heated typhoon. He was a dark and brooding character but his eyes were not. They we
re gray. They were a
lmost an incandescent gray. The intensity of his stare took her breath away. All of a sudden, the world seemed to stop. She couldn’t hear the loud music playing. She couldn’t see the people dancing. She only saw him. Her heart started beat
ing rapidly. Her mouth felt
like the Sahara. She blinked. Her head started spinning until she realized she was holding her breath.

He was dressed in a black coat
with flat golden buttons that resembled coins.
It looked like it was handmade in another time.
The inside, she couldn’t make out because of the lighting in the club. His dark hair touched the nape of his neck and was combed back, showing off the strong features of his handsome face.

Simone wanted to go over there and tell him what a wonderful club he had and that this was her first time in Paris. Now, she had s
econd thoughts on the matter, w
hich surprised her. This was the first time a man’s ever intimidated her. The first time she didn’t know how to approach a man or what in the world to tell him. She was at a complete loss for words. She wasn’t scared of him. No, that wasn’t it at all. It was that he exuded this pure potent male sensuality it
nearly knocked her off her seat
. She was being ridiculous, she knew. She should gather her courage and confidently stroll over there like he was any other man and just tell him. She was sure he wouldn’t bite.

She reminded herself not to judge a book by its cover. Dark and brooding on the outside doesn’t necessa
rily reflect what’s going on inside.

Oh
, he was sexy. Simone couldn’t take her eyes off of him. She’d
never seen a face so perfect, so
flawless. It wasn’t fair for him to be both sexy and beautiful at the
same time. He could very well
be the sexiest man on the planet. He easily looked better than every other man in this room. The women, too, now that she thought of it.

No, it certainly wasn’t fair.

They continued their silent perusal of one another until Simone felt a jar.

“Earth to Simone.
Hey, Simone?
I’ve called your name a half a dozen times. What’s going on?” Indea furrowed her brows and frowned slightly, that is, until she saw who Simone was staring at. “Whoa! No wonder you didn’t hear me.”

Simone blinked rapidly. “What? Oh, hey, Indea. Did you say something?”

Indea cocked her left eyebrow. “He’s already gotten you tongue-tied and you haven’t even traded pleasantries yet.” She studied the man. “Though, I can’t say that I blame you. I’d be d
oing just about the same thing if I were you.”

“Yeah.”
Simone shook her head slightly. She finally noticed the music playing and the dancers on the dance floor.

Funny how he made everything mute for a moment.
A moment?
How long were they staring at each other? Confusing and men were usually never in the same sentence. Simone let out a whoosh of air.

Indea gave Simone a little nu
dge. “Well. Go talk to him,”
she cajoled. “He seems to only have eyes for you.”

Simone again looked at Van. He smiled at her and her heart nearly stopped in shock. Oh, my. Hot. Hot! HOT!
Chiseled jaw.
Smooth skin.
Plump lips.
His whole face lit up when he smiled. He had dimples on both cheeks. His gray eyes seemed to glow when his smile cracked his rather brooding look. Talk about night and day. Even though, he is still sexy either way. His intense look seemed to melt completely away when his lips curved into a genuine smile.

“What are you waiting for? This is Van, is it not?” Indea asked.

“Yes.” Simone continued looking at Van. He gave her a hard, salacious stare as he crooked his index finger. He was inviting her over! She sucked in a breath and got off her seat.

Indea whispered in Simone’s ear. “Go get’em, tiger.
Grrr.”

Simone held her chin up and made her way across the dance floor.

She reached his table. Oh, my. He’s even sexier up close. “Hello.” Her voice cracked a little. She cleared her throat and tried again, much to her horror. She reached out her hand. “Hello. I’m Simone. Are you Van, by any chance?”

“Yes. I am Van Pirone. Welcome, Simone, to my club.” He took her hand softly. His mere touch made her body tingle.

Was this the
zing
Indea was talking about? Wait a minute. She just met the guy for Pete’s sake. She didn’t know him from Adam. How could it be possible?

And his voice?
It could melt a glacier in winter. It was deep and throaty. So masculine, it commanded attention. Even though he was wearing that brocaded coat, she could tell he had a body built for sinful thoughts.

Van let go of her hand, leaving it cold. He motioned to a chair opposite him. “Please. Sit down.”

Simone sat across from Van. Comfortable in his silence, he waited for Simone to continue.

She cleared her throat yet again. She laced her fingers together and placed them on the table in front of her. “Your place is absolutely breathtaking, Mr. Pirone
.”

“Thank you, Simone. But, please, call me Van.”

I’ll call you anything you want me to,
she thought mischievously before she could stop herself.

Van raised his eyebrows
, grinning roguishly, but said
nothing.

Were her eyes giving her away or something? She didn’t say anything out loud. Did she? He was staring at her so passionately she forgot her vocabulary. She darted her gaze elsewhere, hoping to find her voice. What did he say? Call him Van? Oh, yes. That was it.

“Okay,”
she spoke finally.
“Van.”

The way she said his name flowed over him like warm honey and settled in his black jeans.

“So.
Tell me a little about yourself. Your accent has a hint of Irish,
yes
?

he
pointed out. He pretty much knew all about Simone Timms. No, she didn’t need to give her last name. Her father abandoned her halfway out of her mother’s womb. He could think of a few choice words to say to Simone’s father. Somehow, he knew it still would not sit well with her, regardless if her father left her and her mother. He was still her father and probably wouldn’t take kindly to a stranger’s meddling.

Fatherless or not, she grew up well. He observed her. She was a gorgeous specimen of a woman. Long,
flowing
red tresses. Large, apple seed
shaped eyes, glowing with bits of green, brown and a touch of blue. Maybe a few gold flecks for a unique look. Hazel. That was what he had heard people call that specific color.

Slightly full cheeks gave her a younger appearance but
he knew in her mind, she was a
mature woman. Her p
outy red lips looked so kissable
soft. Her creamy skin practically begged to be caressed. She was a very sexy woman. The only thing he could consider cute would be her button nose.

Her buxom body gave her maturity away. So did her well defined arms and legs. Earlier, he could only think of touching her, but in this case, her bite would be worse than her bark.

So, he listened. He listened when she told him about her best friend Indea Sky. Likes and dislikes and ot
her non-private little tid
bits that one didn’t mind talking about with someone they just met.

She didn’t say too much about anything else. Why should she? As far as she was concerned, he was a stranger and she didn’t feel the need to say anything else about her life. He was not the one to pry and wouldn’t look into her mind for any reason. He was never a nosy person.
The golden rule.
He wouldn’t want people in his business 24/7. That’s why he would never make it in Hollywood, he quipped silently.

Van enjoyed the sweet sound of Simone’s native tongue. And quite the contrary to popular beliefs, he could listen and think at the same time. It wasn’t that difficult to multi-task. He was only doing two things after all.

When Simone finished, she asked him if she would like to meet her best friend.

“I would love to, y
es,”
Van answered.

Simone managed to catch Indea’s attention rather quickly. She signaled her over.

“Indea.
Meet Van Pirone, the owner.
Van.
Meet my good friend, Indea Sky.”

They shook hands and Van comme
nted,
“Indea Sky? What an unusual name.”

“Yeah.
My dad is from the Cherokee nation from Tennessee. My mother was born and raised in Chatearoux. They a
re now residing here in Paris,”
she related politely.

“Ahh.
That ma
kes for an interesting accent,”
Van stated.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Pirone.” Indea shook his hand once more. “Well. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Likewise,”
Van said well-manneredly.

Indea turned to Simone. “Michael asked me to dance with him once before we leave. See you in a bit.” She about-faced and joined Michael on the dance floor.

Simone faced Van once again and the next question he asked her threw her off guard. “Would you consider going for an evening stroll with me tomorrow?” Van asked graciously.

Simone may have been surprised at his sudden invitation but she couldn’t doubt that she wanted to know more about him. She was thoroughly intrigued by this mysterious man. So she didn’t hesitate too much when she answered. “I would love to, Van.”

BOOK: NightFall: Book One: Bloodlust Is the Cure for the Immortal Soul
7.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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