Christian(11)

Natalie responded automatically, and his huge hand dwarfed her slender fingers.

“We spoke on the phone,” he added.

Natalie found her voice. “We did,” she confirmed. “I’m Natalie Gaudet.”

He shifted her hand in his grip, and lifted it to his mouth, touching the back of her hand to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. “Natalie,” he repeated, and her fragile wits scattered all over again. Okay, so he was uncommonly handsome, and she loved the way he said her name. NAH-tah-lee. And, yes, his accent was beautiful—even to someone brought up with the lyrical rhythms of Cajun country. Still, it wasn’t as if good-looking men were hard to find around here. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, as if he’d found an exotic treasure that he’d been searching for, and never expected to find sitting outside Anthony’s office.

“Is Lord Anthony in his office, Natalie?” he asked, and she knew she’d been staring.

“Yes, of course. I’ll just—”

She spun as a whoosh of sound announced the opening of Anthony’s inner office doors.

“Leave her alone.”

Natalie gasped at the abrupt warning in Anthony’s rough voice, but Christian barely reacted. He straightened to his full height, his fingers slowly releasing their grip on hers, even as his thumb stroked the back of her hand. He gave her a quick wink, then swung easily around to face Anthony.

“Lord Anthony,” he acknowledged, not seeming at all ruffled by the vampire lord’s sudden appearance, or unfriendly tone.

“Your appointment is with me, Duvall, not my cousin,” Anthony growled.

Natalie blinked in surprise. Cousin? What the hell? Sure, Anthony claimed some distant relationship to her family, but he’d never called her “cousin” before.

He was certainly hostile to Christian, though. She wondered about that, and whether Christian would take offense. Vamps were a volatile lot, and she’d seen them come to blows for less. But these two vampires were scary powerful, and she didn’t relish being around if they got into it.

She needn’t have worried, however. Christian took Anthony’s mood in stride, quirking a quizzical eyebrow in her direction—maybe at the mood, or maybe because Anthony had called her “cousin.” Christian’s eyes posed the question he obviously didn’t want to ask.

“Mr. Duvall just arrived, my lord,” she said. Christian might be willing to ignore Anthony’s bad mood, but she wasn’t. “He’s just—”

“I see what he’s doing, Natalie. Come in, Duvall. Let’s get this over with.” Anthony spun on his heel and stomped back into his office, not even pretending to offer a welcome.

Natalie frowned after him, but Christian didn’t seem to care. He offered her a half grin, and, placing one hand over his heart, he murmured, “ma belle,” before following Anthony. But then he turned at the last moment and said, “Oh, Natalie, my lieutenant was waylaid on the way in. I expect him to join us momentarily. Would you ask him to wait here for me?”

“Of course,” she assured him.

“His name is Marc Forest,” he told her, then got that wicked gleam in his eyes again. “Tall, dark, and delicious.”

Natalie blushed hotly as he took two steps back in her direction, and produced a business card from the inside pocket of his jacket. She took the card and glanced at it, before looking up to find him regarding her intently.

“In case you need me. For any reason,” he added, meeting her eyes with that intense gaze. Then he turned and continued into Anthony’s office, closing the doors quietly behind him. It wasn’t until she heard the firm click of the door closing, and the barely discernible rumble of the two vampires’ voices that she was able to draw a full breath.

“Good lord,” she muttered. “That should be illegal.”

MariAnn hurried into the office at that moment, and Natalie stared. She’d obviously changed not just her blouse, but her entire outfit, right down to her shoes. The dry cleaning explained away the outfit, but where’d she get the shoes?

“What’s illegal?” MariAnn asked. She rushed over to her desk, and pulled a mirror from her drawer the minute she sat down.

“Nothing,” Natalie said. “Muttering to myself. If you’re going to be here, I’m running down to the ladies’ room.”

“Sure.”

“Oh, and there’s a vampire by the name of Marc Forest, who should be showing up any minute. He’s supposed to wait here for Christian Duvall.”

MariAnn looked away from her mirror long enough to scowl attractively in Nat’s direction. “Who is he?”

“I’m not sure. I think he works with Christian, though.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “Okay.”