But enough was enough. She had work to do, and tonight was the gala that Christian had to attend, despite the confrontation with Anthony. And she was going with him. She had her dress and shoes, and the underwear to go with them. But if she was going to do the dress, and Christian, justice, she’d need some serious prep time. And some food. She didn’t care if it was breakfast or something else, but she needed sustenance.
The idea of food finally got her out of bed, and as if to make sure she didn’t backslide, her stomach grumbled loudly. Remembering the pitiful state of Christian’s refrigerator—at least when it came to real food—she decided to make a run to the grocery store. She didn’t know this neighborhood, but there had to be something nearby, and she’d seen Marc drop the SUV keys on the table next to the door.
But she wasn’t going anywhere all sweaty and stinking of sex, with her thighs still sticky from last night. She needed to shower, and it made no sense to do it twice, which meant washing her hair, and shaving her legs. Her stomach grumbled again, but it would just have to wait.
By the time she’d cleaned up, found the grocery story, and driven back, there were less than two hours left until sunset. She didn’t know exactly what time the gala started, since she hadn’t been formally invited, and hadn’t been part of the planning either. Anthony had never involved her in any of the vampire activities, which now struck her as somewhat odd. It was as if he’d been intentionally keeping her from meeting any of the many vampires who hung around the estate. She didn’t want to think too much about his reasons for that, even though it was pretty clear by now that he’d been saving her for himself. And that idea still had too high of an ick factor to contemplate.
Intentionally setting it aside, she unwrapped the sandwich she’d picked up at the grocery deli, added some chips, then settled down in front of her laptop. She still had a job to do, and besides, she loved her work. Loved finding clues in the numbers, following the trails.
She was deep in her own head, seeing nothing but what was on the computer screen, when a warm hand caressed the bare skin of her lower back. She shrieked and nearly fell off the kitchen stool, only to be caught by a laughing Christian.
“That’s not funny,” she protested, slapping away his hands.
“It sort of is,” he said, ignoring her efforts and pulling her into his arms. He gave her a smacking kiss on the lips, then glanced at her computer. “You’re working?”
She nodded. “It relaxes me.”
“I could relax you,” he crooned, his big body surrounding her as he leaned forward to trap her in his arms. “Unfortunately, we leave in an hour,” he added.
“What?” Natalie straightened abruptly, her head nearly cracking Christian on the chin when she swung around to stare at him. “You’re dressed,” she said stupidly. But he was. His white tuxedo shirt wasn’t fully buttoned, and his tie hung open, but everything else was in place. Black pants, black leather belt and shoes, and now that she was paying attention, she saw the elegant black jacket draped over the back of a chair. “Fuck!” she swore and pushed at his chest, trying to force him back. The effort was totally futile, of course. Christian would move when he wanted to, and not before. “Christian,” she said exasperatedly, “I have to get ready.”
“I sort of like this look,” he said lazily, his hand sliding beneath her T-shirt and around her ribs to cup her braless breast.
“Christian,” she breathed. It was meant to be a protest, but it didn’t come out that way.
He kissed her. Not the brief smack of a hello kiss he’d given her earlier. This was heat and desire and sex. He pulled her into his arms, his hand clenched in her hair, a hungry edge adding urgency, his lips almost rough as he explored every inch of her mouth before pulling back. Natalie was lost in sensation, her head back and eyes closed. Her fingers gripped his waist, crushing the fine cotton shirt as she held on for dear life. He licked the corner of her mouth, then tightened his hands on her arms.
“You need to get dressed,” he murmured.
Her eyes opened lazily, and she groaned. “Not fair,” she muttered.
“Go on,” he said, turning her toward the doorway and slapping her butt. “I’ll rinse your dishes.”
“Ass,” she muttered, too soft for him to hear. Or maybe not.
“You’ll be paying for that later,” he called cheerfully, and was still laughing when she slammed the bedroom door.
CHRISTIAN STROLLED through the gathering of beautiful people with the most gorgeous woman in the room on his arm. He closed Natalie’s fingers over the crook of his elbow, and held them there. It was either that or explore the enticing expanse of bare back exposed by her sexy dress. He’d been fighting an erection ever since she’d hurried out of her bedroom earlier, her hair a sensuous pile of curls that looked like she’d just been well fucked, her legs smooth and silky beneath the short dress, with a pair of black stiletto heels making them look even longer. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for her tempting appearance. He’d selected the dress, after all. But damn, she looked good. And despite the tension they were both feeling about Anthony—wondering if he’d be stupid enough to show up tonight when Raphael was gunning for him—Natalie was charmingly excited about the gala.
He scanned the room slowly, without being obvious about it. Scoville was in attendance, though he’d all but dropped out of the race after his chat with Christian the other night. And Marcel Weiss was across the room, sending hate-filled glares from within his circle of supporters. But there were notable absences. Noriega was missing, of course—that’s what happened when you jumped the gun; you missed the big party—but Stefano Barranza was also nowhere to be seen, and Christian found that suspicious. It wasn’t mandatory for challengers to show up at the gala kick-off, but it was customary. It was a chance to measure opponents’ power, to flaunt your own, and, if you were lucky, to come to the attention of the current vampire lords who were in attendance. Barranza’s absence made Christian wonder if the Mexican vampire had decided to drop out altogether, or worse, if he was down in Mexico seeking a new alliance with Hubert.
But while the challengers had a central role to play, they weren’t the indispensable attendees at this party. That honor went to the vampire lords, and Christian had to admit that it wasn’t often one saw so many of them in one room. The current batch of lords got along with each other in a very un-vampire-like way, which made getting together a lot easier. That was Raphael’s doing. And it would be the undoing of the Europeans, unless they changed their tactics. But he wasn’t going to be the one to warn them.
The lords stood apart from the crowd, their mates by their sides. Mates were almost always in attendance for challenge launches. The lords were there to contain the aggression-fueled violence that could erupt at these things, while their human mates were on hand to help contain the aggression of the lords themselves.
Christian was keeping a close eye out, but there’d been no sign of Anthony, which only reaffirmed his assessment of the Southern lord’s survival instincts. Raphael and his mate, Cynthia, had arrived early on, along with both Duncan and his woman. Vincent wouldn’t be attending, but that wasn’t a surprise. He could hardly leave his territory when there were known infiltrators actively working to bring him down. And thus far, Christian hadn’t spotted any of the others—Sophia, Lucas, Rajmund or Aden—but the night was still young, and the lords tended to arrive singly rather than all at once, to avoid a sudden crush of power in the room. Nerves were strung tightly enough. By now, everyone had heard about what had happened to Cibor, and Raphael’s anger because of it. And when a vampire as powerful as Raphael got angry, no one in the vicinity was spared the effects.
Next to him, Natalie tensed, and her fingers twisted to grip his nervously. Christian followed her line of sight and found Jaclyn and Cibor, deep in conversation. Jaclyn’s hand was hooked around Cibor’s elbow, her breast was pressed against his arm, and their lips were almost touching.
“Look at Cibor, chére. He’s fully recovered. Raphael will have made sure of it by now.”
She nodded, and Christian bent to kiss her artfully tousled head. “He and Jaclyn look awfully cozy, though. Maybe the crisis brought some deeper feelings to the surface,” he mused.
He was surprised, but relieved, when Natalie laughed. She hugged his arm against her soft breast, and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “They’ve been lovers for years. Didn’t you know that?”
He reconsidered the last few days. The signs had all been there, but he’d missed the obvious, because it wasn’t commonplace for two vampires to become lovers. “That’s rather unusual.”
She tilted her head, gazing up at him curiously. “Why? I’d think it’s a natural fit. Shared interests and all that.”