Dark Obsession (Vampire Royals of New York #3) - Sarah Piper Page 0,15

draw your sword just yet.”

“Really?”

“If all goes well, it looks like we’ll be able to go in on Tuesday.”

“Not tomorrow?”

“We need time to work out all the details. We can’t leave anything to chance, right?”

Charley nodded. As anxious as she was to get her hands on Estas’ intel, she knew damn well the importance of contingency planning. Besides, she was just grateful Dorian was backing her up on this rather than ordering her to stay home while he and the boys snuck out for another epic caper.

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked.

“What’s that?”

“When I first woke up. You said you had something important to tell me, but then we shifted gears. Was it about the Estas meeting?”

His eyes clouded over, and Charley swore the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

“I… I’m sorry.” Dorian shook his head. “It was nothing—it can wait.”

“But—”

“But this can’t.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, cutting off her protests. When he finally drew back, his smile was firmly in place again, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ve brought you a gift.”

Without waiting for her reply, Dorian rose from the bed and retrieved a large, ivory-colored gift bag from the dresser. When he turned on the bedside lamp, she saw that it was stamped with the logo from her favorite hair salon.

“What’s all this?” Charley couldn’t help but giggle as she dug into the bag, finding several bottles of her favorite shampoo and conditioner, along with at least two of every possible styling product imaginable.

She couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t been back to the salon since Rudy had cut off her cash flow. She had a small stash left at home, but she’d been rationing it out, trying to make it last as long as possible before she’d have to switch to the drugstore stuff.

“This is Julian Micheaux product,” she said, as if he didn’t know. “There’s only one salon that sells it in the entire world.”

“As I discovered today,” he said.

“But how did you know this was my salon?”

He sat next to her on the bed again and grinned. “I’d tell you, but I’m afraid you’ll find it even creepier than my watching you sleep.”

“Let me guess. You called one of your rich-guy colleagues at American Express and had them pull my credit card statements? Because that’s a little bit psycho.”

“Bloody hell!” Dorian smacked himself on the forehead and laughed. “If only I’d thought of that, I could’ve saved myself hours of sniffing every bottle of shampoo in every posh salon in Manhattan.”

“You… what?”

“Oh, it caused quite a stir, as you can imagine. It wasn’t until the tenth salon or so when one of the stylists finally took pity on me. When I told her what I was looking for, and why, she and her colleagues became quite invested in my plight. I did my best to describe the scent, and after many, many phone calls and consultations with friends in other salons, we finally tracked the stuff down. Of course, by then I’d already become somewhat of a social media sensation—hashtag Sexy Sniffer, if you must know.” Dorian rolled his eyes, feigning irritation. “Preposterous. But it was worth every embarrassing moment, because here you are, love. Smiling and happy in my bed.”

Charley’s eyes filled with tears. “You did all that. For me.”

“For you? Goodness, no. Thanks to my efforts, Sexy Sniffer now has free haircuts for life at Julian Micheaux’s salon—the only one in the world, I’m told.” He laughed again, but then his eyes turned serious, and he brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I know it’s hard being away from home, love. I thought you should have something nice—something familiar.”

The thought of Dorian wandering the salons of New York in search of her hair products, sniffing all those bottles… It made Charley laugh. It filled her with so much warmth and affection, she thought she might burst.

And then it filled her with a blinding ache that nearly took her breath away.

All at once, the rusty box where she’d shoved her worst fears and denials finally shattered, everything exploding out of her in a deep, broken sob.

So much for compartmentalizing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly alarmed. “Did I pick the wrong product line? I thought for sure I’d—”

“No, it’s right. Everything is absolutely, perfectly right. It’s…” Charley closed her eyes, tears spilling freely. “This is exactly the kind of sweet, over-the-top romantic thing I should be dishing about with Sasha. All I want to do is text