Dark Deception (Vampire Royals of New York #1) - Sarah Piper Page 0,103
set up on pedestals of different heights. The effect was incredible, like a vista of autumn hills in miniature.
It reminded her of the Catskills—the lookout point on Cole Diamante’s land where Dorian had bared his supernatural secrets.
Emotion tightened her throat, her eyes glazing with tears. It was crazy and over-the-top, but it was so damn beautiful it made her heart ache.
“Open the card!” Sasha bounced on her toes, handing Charley a cream-colored envelope. “The suspense is killing me!”
Grinning, Charley slid open the flap and removed the note.
Ms. D’Amico,
Now that I have your attention, I thought I might tempt you with another offer.
Option one: you refuse my gift, continue to ignore my calls, and thoroughly ruin my day.
Option two: you join me for dinner and a sleepover tomorrow night at my home in Tribeca. There’s one room in particular I’m dying to show you—a dark, secret place that’s perfect for my beautiful bad girl.
I promise it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced—not even in your wildest fantasies…
So… what will it be, love?
Option one, or option two?
“Well? What did he say?” Sasha tried to grab the note, but Charley quickly stuffed it in her bra, her cheeks already hot from the naughty promises laced in every word.
“That is none of your business.” She swatted Sasha on the butt and laughed, then scooted back to her bedroom for a some much-needed privacy.
“I don’t know who sent those flowers,” Sasha called after her, “but if you don’t call him right now, I will!”
“Don’t even think about it!” Charley teased, but she didn’t need further prompting. The roses were the last straw. There was no way she could go another day—another minute—without calling that crazy, ostentatious, ridiculously hot vampire.
He answered on the first ring.
“So you’ve received my invitation,” he said, his voice low and sexy in her ear.
“Option two,” she said. “Always option two.”
“I’m glad we’re in agreement, love. I’ll send Jameson for you at eight o’clock tomorrow evening. Wear something… comfortable.”
“Um. Should I be afraid?”
“No.” Dorian laughed, so rough and gravelly it made her wet. “You should be utterly terrified.”
Chapter Forty-Three
“Three conditions,” Dorian said, his firm tone leaving no room for discussion.
“Conditions?” Charley gulped as he led her down a corridor in the basement of his Tribeca penthouse—all part of the building he owned. She hadn’t even seen his actual apartment yet; the moment she’d stepped out of Jameson’s limo, Dorian whisked her away without so much as a kiss hello.
“Normally I require a signed agreement,” he continued, “but I’ll make an exception. Just don’t mention it to Aiden.”
“A signed agreement? Aiden?” Charley’s mouth went dry, a mix of curiosity and anxiety roiling in her stomach. She had no idea Dorian could be so… official about things.
Rough sex, dirty talk, bondage? Hell yes, she could get into all that—even with a vampire. Especially her vampire.
But a secret room? That required signed forms? That his best friend, business partner, and fellow vampire knew about?
Just how kinky is this man?
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Charley said, second-guessing her decision to meet him tonight. “Let’s go out for dinner instead. Suddenly I’m craving dim sum.”
“The conditions are simple, really,” Dorian said, ignoring her protests. They’d reached a door at the end of the corridor, and he punched a lengthy alarm code into the keypad above the handle—a code she thankfully didn’t see. It beeped and flashed green, and he cracked open the door.
“One,” Dorian said, turning to face her. His muscled body blocked her view into the dark room, but she could still make out the faint glow of colored lights, the hum of electronics in the distance. “What I’m about to show you is highly confidential. You must never tell a soul what we do in here.”
Charley’s knees weakened, but she nodded, anticipation barely winning out over anxiety, both rushing hot and prickly through her bloodstream.
“Two, I make the rules. For your own safety, you must obey me.”
“But… rules?” Charley’s voice was creaky and thin, her lips dry. She cleared her throat and tried again. “What’s the third condition?”
Dorian winked—definitely not a good sign—and reached inside the doorway to grab something. When he finally revealed it, Charley’s heart dropped straight into her stomach.
“Three, protective gear must be worn at all times.” With a wicked grin, Dorian handed her a helmet and a set of kneepads, then fastened a thick black bracelet to her wrist. “Heart rate monitor.”
Charley trembled inside, her heart already pounding, sending the monitor into a frenzy. The kneepads were light and flexible,