Well, that first night he had... but then it had been her who attacked him. And, much to her disappointment, he hadn't acted interested in her since. At least while she was awake. In her dreams, the man came to her every night and tortured her. Erotic kisses and caresses he gave, and all that left her wound up and unsatisfied because they always ended abruptly before Rachel could find satisfaction. It seemed she hadn't quite got the hang of wet dreams yet. She knew they didn't leave Sylvia frustrated and wanting, so she was obviously doing something wrong. Her mind shied from completion for some reason.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Rachel. I hope we see you at the wedding. Are you going?" Jeanne Louise asked.
Rachel tore herself from her thoughts and glanced around in surprise. Everyone was gathering their things and preparing to leave. It seemed the shower was over.
"She's certainly invited," Lissianna announced as she joined them. "And I hope she'll attend."
"It depends on whether we have that other matter cleared up," Marguerite said. Looking thoughtful, she added, "Although, if we were to change her looks somewhat and call her R. J. instead of Rachel, there shouldn't be any trouble with Greg's family recognizing her from the news footage." She nodded. "Yes, we might manage it."
"Good," Lissianna said firmly. She hugged Rachel. "I'd like you to be there. I think we'll be grand friends. Like sisters."
Rachel smiled, but she didn't miss the exchange of glances between Marguerite and Lissianna. She really had to make Etienne teach her the mind-reading business. She felt sure the silent conversations going on here were much more important than the verbal ones.
"Damn!" Rachel slammed the mug of blood down and glared at it furiously. She just couldn't stomach the stuff. She'd managed to work herself up to being able to gulp down a couple swallows, but the taste was so vile and the smell so putrid that her mind and stomach rebelled.
"You're doing better," Etienne assured her. "Soon you'll be able to manage it without a problem."
Rachel glared at him, then stood and paced to the kitchen window to glare out at the starlit night sky. She hadn't been out of the house in the two days since the shower, and it felt like that was weeks ago. She was starting to go stir-crazy, locked up in this house all day and night with nothing to do but read and try to consume blood. She was sick of it. She needed fresh air. She could also use some damned exercise. Her nightly erotic dreams had continued, but still without any satisfaction. Every time, just before Rachel got to the point she wanted, the dream stopped abruptly. She was wound as tightly as a clock.
"I have to get out of here," she announced, turning to glare at Etienne, as if her edginess was his fault. "I need fresh air and exercise and... I just need to get out of here. Now."
Etienne was silent for a moment. At first he looked reluctant, but then he nodded. "I have an idea. Wait here. I'll be right back."
Scowling, Rachel watched him hurry from the room. She very much feared he would take her for a nice moonlight walk, something sedate and stately. She didn't want sedate and stately. She needed hot, sweaty exercise to work off the sexual tension that was cramping her body. If anyone had suggested it to her before she'd been turned, Rachel would never have believed that life as a vampire could be so damned boring.
Chapter Nine
"This is great! Just what I needed."
Etienne smiled at Rachel's excitement, leading her to an open table where they were seated. His idea was obviously inspired. He didn't usually go to the Night Club--a private club solely for vampires, open from sunset to sunrise--but he had understood Rachel's desires. He was in dire need himself. After several nights of shared dreams interrupted each time by a repeat of that first phone call, he was ready to burst.
Etienne now had no doubt that Pudge was making those nightly calls, but he didn't know what to do. He considered just leaving the phone off the hook but worried about family being able to contact him if there was an emergency. Thus, every night he had left the phone on the hook, gone to sleep, and joined
Rachel in some of the most erotic dreams he'd ever had--only to be interrupted at that crucial junction. If her frustration level was as high as his, only a visit to the Night Club would help relieve it.
At least he hoped this visit would work, for both their sakes. He had to work off some tension or he was likely to jump Rachel soon--something he didn't want to do until he had a better idea how she felt about him. Relationships were difficult when one couldn't read the other's mind. Etienne had never been one to control a woman and make her want him, but if he found a woman attractive and read her mind to find that she was equally interested, in the past he had been able to approach the situation with more confidence. With Rachel, he was feeling his way around a minefield.
Of course, he knew she was attracted to him, but he wasn't sure how much of that was just gratitude for saving her life. He wanted more than gratitude from this woman. He had decided they would do very well together as life mates, so that was what he was working toward. But he had never done that before, so he felt rather like he was stumbling around in the dark. Etienne had never felt at quite such a disadvantage before. He'd never had so much on the line. He didn't like it.
"Wow! This is a happening place!"
Etienne smiled as Rachel bounced enthusiastically in her seat, tapped her fingers and feet to the music, and glanced around. It was obvious that she wanted--perhaps even needed--to dance. He opened his mouth to suggest just that, but then his gaze shifted over the dance floor and took in the hip-bumping and wild gyrations of the dancers. He'd been something of a dandy in his day, had kept up with the popular dances of the time, right up until he had become bored with the interchangeable women he was bedding, but when he had grown tired of that, he had cut back on the social life bit by bit until it had died altogether. He now didn't have a clue what the people on the dance floor were doing. It looked like half of them were having some sort of seizure.
"Yo! Cousin!"
Etienne glanced around at that exclamation, an affectionate grin curving his lips as he spotted his cousin Thomas. Rising he hugged the younger man and slapped his back.
"I can't believe you're here, man!" Thomas said. "Talk about a shocker! What's it been? A century?"
"Not that long," Etienne answered dryly.
"Nearly," Thomas insisted. Then he glanced at Rachel with interest. "You must be Rachel. Jeanne was talking about you. I'm her brother Thomas. You can call me Tom."
Rachel smiled and accepted his hand. "You must mean Jeanne Louise. I really enjoyed talking to her at Lissianna's shower. She's your sister?" Her eyes took in Thomas's stylish hair and his tight black T-shirt and leather pants, with amusement, Etienne hoped. "Let me guess; you're her younger brother? Twenty-eight or twenty-nine to her ninety-two?"
"Wrong." He grinned. "I'm older. Two hundred and six. Mom wants to have another baby, but she has to wait another ten years or so."
"Oh, yes." Rachel made a face. "I forgot about the hundred-year rule."