“Sleep as in . . .”
“Yes,” he said, looking somewhat bemused at her inability to come right out and say he’d be doing his vampire thing. “Sleep as in. Now, can we go to the room?”
She turned to follow him out the door. “I can’t share a room with you.”
“Why not?” he asked, leading the way down a narrow path between the cantina and another low building.
“I barely know you.”
He shrugged. “Your virtue is safe with me. I’ll be dead to the world.”
Lana frowned. “I told you, I know vampires aren’t dead.”
He turned around to face her. “It’s a saying, Lana,” he informed her dryly, then took a curving path to the left, which ended at a small cottage with two separate entrances. They were on opposite ends of the building and each was marked by a short walk and a wooden door painted a bright color. Vincent’s door appeared to be blue, although in the dim light, she wouldn’t have sworn on it. Both doors were framed by crawling vines that Lana thought to be jasmine, given their lovely, light scent. Although, with her knowledge of flowers, they could have been almost anything else and she wouldn’t have known the difference.
Vincent unlocked the door, then pushed it open and walked inside without turning on a light. Lana paused in the doorway to let her eyes adjust, then crossed to a small table and turned on a lamp.
“Sorry,” he said from across the room where he was already stripping off his jacket. “I forget sometimes.”
“Forget what?”
“That humans can’t see in the dark.”
“You can?”
He nodded absently. “Quite well. Do you mind if I take the first shower?”
Lana blinked at this reminder that she was sharing a room with Vincent. Vincent of the broad shoulders and washboard abs. She sighed. She was definitely earning her paycheck on this one.
“Sure, go ahead.”
He grabbed the hem of his long-sleeved T-shirt and pulled it over his head. She swallowed a second sigh. She’d forgotten the tattoo. Broad shoulders, washboard abs, and a tattoo. Good thing he was ugly. Fuck.
“I need to get something from the SUV,” she said, knowing it was lame even as she said it. “Will you be okay here?”
“Quite safe,” he assured her and began popping the buttons on his 501s.
Lana caught a glimpse of flat belly and chiseled obliques and yanked the door open. “I’ll be right back,” she said. Then she quickly made her escape.
VINCENT GRINNED as the door closed behind Lana. He’d needed some privacy and figured if he started undressing, she’d run for it. Nice to know he hadn’t lost his touch completely, though he’d begun to wonder. She did seem impervious to his charm, but maybe not his body. Hmmm.
Marisol clearly didn’t think he’d lost his touch, or anything else. If he’d even hinted, she’d have dumped the young man in her bed and spent the night with him instead. But he wasn’t here for that. Besides, he was determined to win Lana over. She was resisting him for now, but he did love a challenge. And he didn’t like to be ignored.
He heard her footsteps fade down the walkway and pulled out his satellite phone. Michael hadn’t called all day, which he took as a good sign. But he wanted to be sure. He entered the number from memory. He didn’t program numbers into this phone, since the fact that he was carrying it meant he was traveling, often in unfamiliar territory. And that usually meant there was the potential for danger. Best not to hand out information to one’s enemies.
Michael answered on the second ring. “Good evening, Sire.”
“Strictly speaking, it’s morning, Mikey.”
“Yes, but there’s generally nothing good about morning, so . . .”
“Point taken. Anything I need to know?”
“No one’s noticed you’re gone, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I don’t know whether to be hurt or relieved.”
“Be relieved. The club’s shut down for repairs, so activity is on the slow side. And there have been no calls from Enrique.”