Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,66
in the entire country: New York City.
Dorian’s fucking city, where—if left unchecked—they’d eventually merge with the so-called “civilized” Duchanes vampires in a vicious tsunami of death and mayhem no human would survive.
Brilliant bit of strategy, that. A city in chaos was a city ripe for demonic takeover—a threat that, while presently unconfirmed, still loomed large in Dorian’s mind.
More than ever, Dorian needed his brothers united behind him. But Malcolm still wasn’t speaking to him, Colin had become so obsessed with solving their father’s great mysteries he was all but living in the crypts now, and Gabriel was spending the better part of his evenings trading favors among his network of unsavory supernatural associates in Las Vegas, all to dig up dirt on Charlotte’s uncle.
Here at FierceConnect, while talks with Armitage Holdings had cooled significantly in the wake of the tensions with House Duchanes, Dorian continued to endure the parade of Rudy D’Amico’s spies masquerading as investigators, their questions becoming more invasive, their demands more ridiculous. The various regulatory bodies involved in the acquisition process were already starting to balk, undoubtedly suspicious about the on-again, off-again status of the deal and the constant schedule changes.
It was, in so many ways, the perfect storm. Yet despite the gravity of his many difficult situations, Dorian’s mind was locked almost entirely on another matter.
Charlotte.
Soft, beautiful, fiery Charlotte.
In the days since they’d parted ways at Ravenswood, he’d sent her five dozen roses each and every morning, telling himself it was all part of the romantic show they needed to carry on for her uncle, should the bastard pay her another visit.
He’d emailed her more details about their fake Hawaiian getaway, telling her how much he was looking forward to it.
He’d typed up lengthy texts—hot, filthy, depraved—only to delete them before hitting the send button.
He’d conjured her memory in the shower, in the bedroom, in the closets, recalling the feel of her soft, wet mouth as he stroked his cock to no avail.
Her presence was all around him—flooding his senses, filling his memories, haunting his dreams. Everything about her made him constantly hard, constantly frustrated, and constantly worried.
In that time, he’d seen her only from afar, alternating shifts with Aiden and occasionally Gabriel to keep watch over Charlotte and her sister from a distance, hoping to grant them a modicum of privacy. Only once had she spotted him on the street, and though he hadn’t approached her, she’d waved at him, and the smile that broke upon her face had felt like the dawn.
He was still thinking about that smile now, just after close of business at FierceConnect, as the rest of his employees took off for the weekend. And though it was probably a terrible idea, the moment he was certain he was alone in the office, he grabbed his cell and made the call.
“Chateaux Noir,” he said when Charlotte answered, “makes the most exquisite Coq au vin in America. Believe me, I’ve tried them all.”
Charlotte laughed, the sound immediately warming him. “Sounds divine. Is that what you’re having tonight, monsieur?”
“It’s what we’re having tonight, madame. Six o’clock?”
Her silence spoke volumes.
“It’s just dinner, love,” he said softly. “An early one, at that.”
Still no response.
“I know we’re not exactly…” Dorian sighed and shoved a hand through his hair, searching for the words that’d clearly abandoned him. “It’s just that… I was hoping…”
Bloody hell, why was this so damn difficult? Not four nights ago, he’d gone down on her in the garden as if it was his last fucking meal, and now he couldn’t even invite her on a simple date?
“Dorian…”
“You’re over-thinking it,” he said. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry. It’s—”
“There’s no reason we can’t enjoy each other’s company over a nice meal and a bottle of wine,” he said, biting back his irritation. “I haven’t been out in the city on a Friday night in an age.”
Charlotte sighed, and he pictured the curve of her eyebrow, the wrinkle that appeared when she was deep in thought. His thumb ached to smooth it out.
“I would love to, Dorian. But I already have plans tonight. Rain check?”
Dorian’s heart thudded.
Plans? As in, a date? Did she have a fucking date?
I will kill him without hesitation…
He tried to dismiss it, but the thought wormed its way into his mind, burrowing deep, taunting him.
Haunting him.
“Of course,” he said. “Enjoy your evening, Charlotte. Be safe.”
He ended the call and pitched the phone across his desk, anger and frustration pushing him to his feet.
He knew he should let it go. Just head back to Ravenswood, call