Rajmund (21 page)

"I love you too, boss. I'd kiss you, but your new girlfriend over there wouldn't like it."

"Em.” He shook his head in disgust. “I'm leaving now, but I'll be in touch."

Sarah watched Raj as he turned away from Emelie and strode back to the car, moving with that lethal grace of his, every muscle coiled and ready. He glanced up at her and she could see his eyes had gone that strange icy-blue again. She smiled and caught his look of surprise, followed quickly by a scowl. It made her wonder why he was trying so hard not to like her.

He yanked the driver's door open and settled into the car, barely waiting until his door was closed before spinning them out of the dingy parking lot with a tire-squealing turn. He didn't say anything as they headed back toward the city, but Sarah didn't mind. She'd learned a lot about Raj tonight, probably a lot more than he'd intended her to know. You could learn things from watching people relate to one another, even without hearing what they were saying. In fact, sometimes it was better
not
to hear the words because words didn't always tell the truth, but the body usually did. For example, she knew for certain that Raj had told her the truth about Emelie. There was nothing sexual between them and never had been. They were friends, very old, close friends who were totally at ease with one another. But that was it. Not a hint of sexual tension between them. No flirting, no posing for effect, even unconsciously.

On the other hand, there was Emelie's reaction to Sarah, and
Raj's
reaction to
Emelie's
reaction. Sarah smiled very privately. Yes, she'd learned some things about Raj tonight and it was all beginning to make sense to her.

"You still hungry?"

She interrupted her private thoughts to look over at him. “Pardon?"

"Dinner,” he said patiently. “Are you still hungry?"

"Oh, sure. Yes. Um, do you go to restaurants?"

He laughed. “Not usually. Well, not to eat food anyway."

She blushed at this unsubtle reminder. “I'm not starving. I mean it's okay if—"

"I know a place,” he said. “And we still need to talk."

"About what?” she asked nervously.

He glanced over at her. “About those lies you keep telling me."

Boy, did he know a place
, Sarah thought to herself. She forked up a final bite of the most succulent salmon she'd ever tasted. They were in a small restaurant, one she'd passed almost every day on her way to campus without ever realizing what a treasure it was. In one of those frustratingly rapid-fire mood changes she was beginning to associate with Raj, he'd become almost cheerful once they sat down. He seemed to be old friends with the Polish proprietor—at least that was the incomprehensible language the two of them were speaking. Only Polish had that many variations of the letter S.

Raj was even drinking vodka, much to her surprise and his obvious amusement. “It's not that we
can't
eat regular food, sweetheart,” he'd said, leaning across the table to whisper conspiratorially. “It's just that the flavor pales compared to our usual diet.” He'd winked at her then, those cool blue eyes flashing icy hot, and she'd begun to wonder just what it would be like to have all of that vampire sensuality focused on her for a single night . . . or maybe two.

Raj had given her a confident smile, as if he knew what she was thinking, and she'd glared back at him. Which had only made him laugh yet again before the proprietor stopped by and the two of them downed yet another vodka. Not that it seemed to have any effect on Raj. She, on the other hand, was carefully nursing her single glass of white wine. It was hard enough to resist his charms while sober.

"Mr. Gregor,” a hearty voice boomed out across the room and Sarah looked up in shock to find Edward Blackwood bearing down on them. The proprietor gave Raj a questioning look, but Raj shook his head slightly and slid out of the booth, standing next to the table and not looking much happier to see the HR founder than Sarah was, although perhaps not for the same reason.

"Mr. Blackwood,” he said smoothly. “This is unexpected."

"An unexpected pleasure, surely,” Blackwood oozed. “I was sorry we didn't have the opportunity to chat more the other night. Perhaps we could take a moment now, if your companion wouldn't—” He swept a glance over Sarah, and she stiffened, convinced he had paused for a brief second with something close to recognition. Raj seemed to sense her discomfort. He stepped in front of her again, blocking Blackwood's inquisitive eyes.

"Sorry, Blackwood,” Raj said, not sounding sorry at all. “We have plans."

"Of course, you do. Rude of me to think otherwise. How is the investigation going, if I might presume for just a moment of your time?"

"Investigation?"

"Well, yes, with the police. Have you made any headway?"

"You'd have to ask them about that. I'm afraid I've been politely requested to stay out of it."

Blackwood frowned. “But I thought, that is, it was our understanding you would be involved."

"No,” Raj said, shaking his head. “I'm looking into it on my end, and I wouldn't mind talking to some of the witnesses, but I can't get access. Not officially anyway."

"Really. Well. Maybe I can make a few calls.” He retrieved a slim wallet from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and extracted his business card. Handing it to Raj, he said, “In return, perhaps you'll agree to meet with me when this is all over.” Raj took the card and slipped it into his pocket while Blackwood waited in obvious expectation of a reciprocal offer of some sort. When none was forthcoming, he smoothed his tie nervously, coughed and said, “Well, I'll make those calls then. You have a pleasant evening."

Raj didn't move until Blackwood had crossed the main dining room and turned out of sight into one of the smaller, private rooms. Without sitting down, he made some sort of gesture to his proprietor friend and slipped a hand under Sarah's arm. “We're leaving,” he said, all but lifting her from her chair.

Sarah didn't protest since she wanted nothing more than to get as far away from Blackwood as possible. She let Raj propel her out of the restaurant, but finally dug her feet in when he would have dragged her like some sort of stuffed toy down the street to where his car was parked. “Stop,” she said, shaking her arm loose from his firm grip.

He gave her a cool look. “I was under the impression you wanted to avoid Blackwood."

Sarah blushed, but raised her chin defiantly. “That doesn't mean I want to be dragged down the street like a recalcitrant child. I
can
walk, you know."

"Yes, I know,” he said in a way that made her blush even harder.

"How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Make everything seem like some sort of foreplay. It's just
walking
,” she complained.

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist, getting her moving again toward his car. “Not when you do it, sweetheart. And not with those heels you're wearing."

Sarah smiled despite herself as he opened the car door and she slid inside. But her smile faded when she saw Blackwood standing outside the restaurant looking their way.

"He's watching us,” she murmured as Raj settled into the driver's seat.

"I know.” He spun away from the curb, executing an illegal U-turn that took them in the opposite direction they wanted to go but avoided driving past the restaurant and Blackwood's prying eyes.

Sarah expected him to turn somewhere, but he caught the main road out of town instead.

"Where are we going?” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than he was crossing several lanes of traffic and pulling to a stop on a dark street of quiet homes and very little traffic. He left the engine running, but put the car in park and turned to face her, one long arm along the back of her seat.

"I think it's time for our little talk, Sarah."

"Here?” she asked.

"Here. We can begin with why you're afraid of Edward Blackwood. The guy makes used car salesmen look like boy scouts, but he's fairly harmless. Unless you happen to have a few million stashed away in a trust fund somewhere?” He gave her a questioning look.

"No.” She drew a deep breath and stole a quick glance at Raj. He sat watching her with that cool blue gaze of his, looking as if he had all the time in the world and was ready to spend it waiting for her to spill her guts. She restlessly played her fingers on her thigh until he reached out and placed his hand over hers, stilling them.

"Look at me, Sarah.” She did. “Whatever it is, whatever's going on . . . it can't be that bad. I'm a vampire, sweetheart. I drink human blood on a regular basis. What can you possibly have to tell me that would top that?"

She laughed and, to her horror, felt tears pressing against the back of her eyes. “It's just . . . I've spent years getting away from it all, and now—"

"The other night you asked me about the other women. You wanted to know their names. Why?"

The tears were threatening to overflow and roll down her cheeks. She wanted to tell him the truth, and something told her he'd understand if she did. Maybe he was right, maybe it was because he was a vampire and nothing she could tell him would be worse than that. But—

"Tell me, Sarah."

"I left home when I was sixteen,” she whispered miserably, hating herself. “I couldn't live there anymore. I changed my name and cut off all contact so they couldn't find me.” It was close to the truth, close enough, she hoped, that he wouldn't know the difference.

He frowned at her in the dark car. “Why? Did something happen?"

She nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. “It just wasn't a good place for me."

"So where does Blackwood come in?” he asked, clearly puzzled.

"What?"

"Blackwood,” he repeated. “I saw your reaction at the police station and again tonight. You're really spooked by him."

"Blackwood . . .” Sarah said, thinking quickly, “. . . knew my parents. He'd recognize me and then . . . It's been twelve years since I've seen any member of my family. I'd like to keep it that way."

Raj was quiet, tapping on the steering wheel lightly, his gaze on the nighttime traffic, but his thoughts seemed far away. Abruptly, he looked back at her and asked, “So why this case? Why your interest in the missing women?"

"I just . . . I read about Trish in the paper. I felt sorry for her and I thought . . . Since I knew Tony sort of, and Cyn's my friend. I thought maybe I could
do
something instead of just waiting for Trish to die.” That part, at least, was true.

She waited for Raj's reaction, waited for him to blow up at her, accuse her of lying yet again, but he just tapped his fingers on the steering wheel some more, then checked his watch and said, “I've got to get you home."

When they reached the house, Sarah threw the car door open without waiting for Raj to turn off the engine. She started up the walk to her stairs, digging her keys out of her purse as she went. Behind her, she heard the beep of the BMW's remote and then he was next to her, beating her to the door and waiting while she unlocked it. She opened the door, stepped inside, and threw her purse on the stairs, shrugging out of her coat. Aware of him towering over her, she kept her heels on, but could still feel his cool stare following her every move. How much did he see? she wondered. Could vampires read human thoughts? Some said it was just a myth, but vampires weren't exactly lining up to be studied, so who really knew the truth?

"I'm going to put some water on for tea,” she said, not quite knowing what else to do. Raj followed her into the kitchen. As she reached for the kettle, his shadow fell over her and she had a moment of deja vu so strong, she had to grab onto the stove or fall over. She could feel him right behind her, blocking the doorway, his gaze icy hot against her back. Her heart began to race and a cold sweat covered her skin as she fought for her next breath.

"Sarah?"

She spun around at the sound of his voice, overwhelmed by the desire to close the distance between them, to reach up and touch his face, to run her fingers through his thick hair and see if it felt as silky as it looked. To feel his arms holding her effortlessly while he picked her up and plunged his cock deep inside her again and again, until she was screaming his name.

Shocked by her own thoughts, she forced herself to look away. Avoiding his touch, she slid sideways down the counter, until she came to the refrigerator. She turned her back to him and opened the door, pulling out of a bottle of cold water and holding it to her overheated face. “Sorry,” she said. “I'm a little tired. I haven't been sleeping well."

"I should go, then. Let you sleep."

"No,” she said quickly, and then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity, grateful she was facing away from him and he couldn't see. She drew a deep breath and turned around, her gaze riveted to the water bottle as she twisted off the cap. “I was thinking I might be able to help with your investigation. You probably want to talk to some people on campus, and I could go with you, maybe, you know, since I work there. I thought we could be like partners,” she said reasonably. Unfortunately, when she raised her eyes, he wasn't looking at her like a partner. It was more like she was steak and he was a starving man.

Raj leaned in the doorframe, denying himself another step, afraid to get any closer to Sarah. His gums ached and his lips were closed tight over fangs that wanted nothing more than to sink into her soft flesh and drink the sweet nectar of her blood. He'd noted her reaction, known the moment her body remembered what had happened in the kitchen the night before, even though her mind had been wiped. He'd heard her heart speed up, had seen the sudden gleam of sweat above her lip, and known that the delicate valley between her breasts would be warm and damp.

He straightened away from the door, as much to relieve the pressure in his groin as anything else. “All right,” he said, thinking this was a very bad idea. He should be avoiding any contact with her, not setting up a fucking partnership. But for some reason, his mouth just kept talking. “I do need to talk to people,” he said. “Witnesses, families, that sort of thing. And some people find me intimidating."