She sighed and wandered into the bedroom, which, like everything else in this penthouse, was built on a huge scale. The furnishings were dark and masculine, the wooden furniture heavy and deeply stained. The bed was enormous and clearly custom-made. Granted, Vincent was a big man. But even he didn’t need all that space, unless he was hosting orgies. Which, for all she knew, was exactly what he did.
Lana pushed on into the extravagant bathroom, but instead of being soothed or even delighted by the beautiful fixtures and the shower big enough for six, everything she saw only raised the volume on the whispering voice inside her head, the one repeating over and over again that she didn’t belong here.
“Lana?”
She spun around to find Vincent leaning against the doorframe, studying her with a concerned look. She wondered how long he’d been there and what he’d seen on her face in the meantime. He might not be able to read her mind, but he could read her body language well enough.
“This is lovely,” she said, meaning it. She didn’t tell him that she felt like a total intruder. That she was almost afraid to touch anything for fear of leaving her grubby fingerprints behind.
He glanced around as if seeing it for the first time. “It’s nice. I haven’t stayed here that much.”
“Why have it then?”
“Because I knew this day would come, and appearances matter, especially to vampires. If I’m to unseat Enrique, I need to look like a vampire lord.”
She smiled weakly. “I’d say you succeeded.”
He walked over and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You okay? You seem—”
“Tired,” she supplied, sparing him the search for a suitable adjective. “And hungry. There must be a kitchen here somewhere, yes?”
Vincent frowned, clearly not buying her excuse, but willing to let her get away with it for now. “There’s a kitchen,” he said, “but probably no food. Maybe some blood, since they knew I was coming, but that doesn’t do you any good,” he said with a forced chuckle.
Lana nodded. “That’s all right. I’m sure there’s a grocery store nearby. And you must have meetings to go to.”
His scowl deepened, but he nodded.
“Right. So, I’ll go to the store, then make myself some dinner and maybe take a swim. We can meet here later.”
Vincent studied her a moment too long. “You’re going to be here when I get back, right?”
Lana fought back the blush that would have given her away, because she’d actually considered going straight to the airport and catching a flight home. Mexico City had a big airport; she was sure there were plenty of flights going her way.
But just as she’d considered it, she’d rejected it. Vincent deserved better than that, because regardless of what other feelings she might harbor for him, they were partners. And partners didn’t desert each other on the eve of battle.
“Of course I’ll be here,” she assured him, as if any other suggestion was absurd. “You think I’m going to leave without trying out that shower?”
Vincent gave her a slow smile, and he seemed to relax. But there was nothing relaxed about the hard brand of possession in his kiss, nor the deep warning in his voice when he slid his lips up to her ear and said, “I’ll hold you to that, querida.”
Lana kissed him back, letting him think it was anticipation that caused the tremble of emotion that rippled over her frame. But it was the unmistakable threat in his words that made her shiver, that told her he’d find her no matter how far she ran.
VINCENT DIDN’T WANT to leave Lana. There was something going on in her lovely head, something he couldn’t quite figure out. He would in time, but time was in short supply this evening. He had people to meet with, vampires who’d risked everything to show up here tonight. There would be no going back after this. Plotting to assassinate one’s lord wasn’t something a vampire did lightly, or in secret.
Enrique would know he was in town, and why. Vincent could take tonight to shore up his support, to reassure his loyal vampires that he had what it took to defeat Enrique and become the new Lord of Mexico. And even more importantly, that, as their lord, he would be a better ruler. Enrique had many allies but few friends. His centuries-long rule had been based purely on strength and the certain knowledge that disloyalty would be met with brutal death.
Vincent wasn’t naïve enough to think he could rule benevolently. He was about to become a vampire lord, not a priest. Most vampires lived quiet lives and wanted only to be left alone. But those few who didn’t, the ones who would form Vincent’s court and warrior cadre, they needed to know that force would be met with force, disloyalty with death.
But they also needed to know that loyalty would be rewarded, and that the wealth of the territory would be shared among those who created it, not hoarded and doled out to anyone who kissed his ass, as Enrique had done.
Unfortunately, all of that had to be conveyed tonight. He wanted to stay with Lana, to make love to her in that giant bed until she didn’t have the strength left to even think about leaving him. But he had a duty, a responsibility to the vampires who’d already put their lives on the line simply by agreeing to meet him.
He had to put his faith in Lana’s word and his feelings in the kiss that they shared, although he couldn’t stop himself from whispering a warning in her delicate ear. “I’ll hold you to that, querida.”
She could run, but she couldn’t hide. Not from him. She shivered and he knew she’d caught the underlying message of his words.
He strode through the living room of the suite, turning to face her when they reached the front doors. “You’ll have a guard with you wherever you go.”
She grimaced. “I don’t need that. I don’t like strangers—”