table.
"It's just a black bean stir-fry," Tiny said modestly. "It was fast and easy."
"Hmm." Vincent pulled out a chair for Jackie. "Well, it smells delicious."
Jackie eyed him suspiciously as she sank into the seat.
Vincent was so gallantly holding out. She still didn't believe the vamp normally ate food. The man hadn't even had a teaspoon in his kitchen, but it looked to her as if he was going to eat now.
Vincent seated himself across from her as she dished up a good portion of stir-fried vegetables and beef onto her plate. She then offered him the serving bowl as Tiny set glasses of water by each of their three settings.
Vincent took the food and served himself before passing it on to Tiny as the giant joined them at the table. Both Tiny and Jackie watched as Vincent scooped up the first forkful of food and lifted it to his mouth. Her expression was cynical, Tiny's was expectant.
Surprise was Vincent's first reaction as he closed his lips around the mouthful of food. The emotion flickered across his face and then gave way to pleasure. "This is good."
Tiny relaxed in his seat, Jackie just shook her head. The man didn't normally eat at all. She'd stake her life on it, but didn't comment and merely concentrated on eating. It really was good.
Jackie finished eating first, rushing through her food as she rushed through life, always hurrying to get to the next task. Tiny, of course, ate like he lived, savoring each moment and calmly enjoying it. Vincent was somewhere in the middle, gobbling it up at first, then slowing as he no doubt grew full. If he hadn't eaten for decades as she suspected, his stomach surely would have shrunk, Jackie thought, but again didn't say anything. He was the one insisting he ate, he could live with the consequences.
Jackie thanked Tiny for the meal as she stood, then carried her plate over and rinsed it off before setting it in the dishwasher. Her gaze then moved to the coffee pot and she brightened on seeing the full pot of black liquid.
"Oh Tiny, you're a dream," Jackie said with a smile as she found one of the new mugs and poured herself a cup of the black gold. "Does anyone else want one?"
"I'll have one please," Tiny said as he finished his dinner and stood. "I made ice cream for dessert."
"Really?" she asked with interest, peering around for the ice cream maker.
"I'll get it," Tiny insisted, moving to the sink to rinse his own plate. "Take the coffees to the table."
Leaving him to it, Jackie carried the coffees over. Vincent hadn't asked for one, so she hadn't poured him one.
"Here you are." Tiny placed a small dish of ice cream before her, and announced, "Chocolate with cherries."
Jackie picked up the spoon and scooped up a bite, moaning with pleasure as it hit her taste buds.
"Good?" Vincent asked with interest.
Jackie nodded and swallowed, then taunted, "No dessert until you finish your dinner."
Honestly, the man looked as crestfallen as a child at her words and continued determinedly with his meal.
"He doesn't have to finish his supper. He took too much." Tiny whisked Vincent's half-finished plate of stir-fry away, replacing it with ice cream. "Eat up."
Vincent beamed at the man and set to work on the ice cream.
Jackie made a face as he sighed with pleasure.
"Ms. Morrisey?"
She shifted in her seat and glanced over her shoulder at Allen Richmond as he poked his head into the room.
"A car followed one of the men through the gate as he returned from his break. There's a woman out here looking for Mr. Argeneau."
Chapter Three
Jackie stood to investigate the woman looking for Vincent, only to pause as a tall, curvaceous, brunette urged Allen Richmond out of the way and stepped into the kitchen. Jackie stared. The woman was beautiful. She also looked extremely familiar. However, Jackie didn't understand why until Vincent moved forward saying, "Aunt Marguerite!"
This was Marguerite Argeneau, Bastien's mother and Vincent's aunt. There was a painting of her in the living room of the apartment in New York where Bastien stayed when in the city. Jackie had met him there a time or two over the years and always found the woman in the portrait fascinating with her medieval gown and faraway look. She was even more beautiful in real life and梔espite knowing as much as she did about immortals桱ackie still found it difficult to accept that the woman was over seven hundred years old.
While