Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,21
cleaning.” She sighed into the phone, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Dorian, we almost died last night. When I woke up without you this morning, I thought… I thought something happened. I was worried.”
Even at a whisper, the concern in her voice was clear.
Now, in addition to the desire and repulsion duking it out in his chest, molten guilt flooded in, burning away everything else.
He resented all of it.
He resented her.
He did not have time for this.
“Please don’t fight me, Charlotte,” he said, exasperation creeping into his voice. “Not on this.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Dorian nearly laughed. The answer could fill an entire library, and he could just as easily ask her the same question, filling a second.
Between the two of them, there were more unexplained mysteries than the ones lurking in the crypts—and most of them were almost certainly lies.
Not an ideal start to a relationship.
Which is why there will be no relationship, you bloody fool. Nor any more carnal delights, no matter how quickly the sound of her fucking voice makes you hard as stone, even now…
“We’ll discuss everything later,” he said. “In person.”
When I can read the lines of your deceptions in those beautiful, devious eyes…
By the silence that followed, Dorian knew he’d won her over. Charlotte was nothing if not pragmatic; she’d seen a glimpse of what a vampire like Duchanes could do, and there was no way she’d risk another altercation—especially not where her sister was concerned.
“Fine,” she finally said, and Dorian tried not to sigh in relief. “We’ll be there in a few hours.”
“It shouldn’t take you more than two, even with traffic.”
“Sasha’s in the process of convincing Gabriel to take us to lunch.”
“Lunch? Did you not warn her he’s the most ruthless Redthorne of all? She’s got a better chance convincing the demon factions to attend afternoon tea at the Ritz-Carlton.”
“You haven’t met my sister. Her powers of persuasion are legendary.”
“I imagine she learned them from you.”
“Damn straight.”
Dorian didn’t know how the bloody hell he’d deal with the two of them in his home together.
The thought brought an uninvited smile to his lips anyway.
But then it faded, the reminder of Charlotte’s betrayal blowing the warmth from his chest as swiftly as a late autumn breeze ushered in the winter.
He’d been waiting for it, he realized. Waiting for her to mention the notebook and floor plans he’d taken from her bedroom. To spin some elaborate tale he was all too eager to accept.
He wanted her to prove him wrong. To prove him a fool for ever doubting her. To spin back the clock to those moments when he’d cradled her hand in that bed and saw the entirety of their lives together, one breathless kiss at a time.
But she hadn’t said a word.
Which meant she was either playing a very twisted game…
Or she had no idea she was about to walk into a minefield.
“Just get here, Charlotte.” Dorian closed his eyes, admonishing himself even before the words slipped free from his mouth. “And please… be careful.”
He ended the call and glanced up to find all three of the men watching him intently. Colin, merely curious. Aiden, his eyes narrowed with concern, as if he could sense the battle raging inside.
And Cole, the only one who knew what Dorian had discovered about his woman last night, smirking at him like that bloody phone conversation had just proven every last one of the wolf’s infuriating points.
I’ll tell you what, Red. That look in your eyes? That’s not the look of a man just out for a fuck…
Cole’s smirk turned into a full-on laugh, and Dorian stormed out to the elevator, telling himself Cole was dead wrong. That a fuck was all he truly wanted—all he’d ever wanted from that woman. His cock, still stiff from the sound of her voice, seemed happy to agree.
If only his fucking heart wasn’t on fire, Dorian might’ve believed it too.
Chapter Eight
Despite a monumental amount of complaining from the so-called ruthless Redthorne Royal, Sasha got her way in the end, and Gabriel took them for an early lunch at a gourmet soup-and-salad café near Charley’s building—the first meal she’d been able to keep down all day.
The food perked her up, but the post-lunch ride to Ravenswood in Gabriel’s BMW was long and awkward, with Sasha happily chatting away from the backseat while Gabriel attempted to drown her out with the news radio. It was the same story on every channel—something about a raid at a popular nightclub in the East