She angled her head. “Given the lines of your brow, nose and lips with the structure of your jaw, I’d say you’re easy on the eyes.”
In mere moments of knowing him, she’d been able to see him as more than his scary exterior.
“Undead of my persuasion have a body temperature that is about six degrees hotter than humans.” With his index finger, he tucked a rogue curl behind her ear.
“Guess that’s why I’m not chilly anymore.” She met his stare.
“Here I thought the change was your attraction to me.” He smiled.
She pressed her lips together. A sweet peach scent rose from her flesh as she warmed from his touch. The pigment of her skin indicated she ate healthy food and exercised regularly. The meat of her thighs was probably tender and succulent, but likely didn’t compare to the sweet taste of the juices between them.
His taste buds tingled with anticipation. “Let me take you home?”
She glanced around his shoulder to the grand building. “I don’t want to worry Peter and Meg.”
“I’ll email him on my BlackBerry.” Her next protest was sure to be about him missing this evening’s music. So, he’d better put that option to rest. “As far I’m concerned, I’ve seen the show twice and will again, so you aren’t depriving me.” But if she turned him down, she would be.
“Thank you. I appreciate the ride.” She slipped her arms into the sleeves of his coat.
“My car is in the parking station. This way.” He gestured back inside then pulled out his BlackBerry and thumbed a message to Peter. Please enjoy your evening. I’m escorting Leera home. He pressed Send. “I’ve let your brother know I’m bringing you to your place.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be doing this so you’ll know where I live?” The slightest brightness glimmered in her black eyes.
He held the first set of doors open for her, directed her to the elevator and pressed the Down button. That information would be easy enough to obtain.
“I was joking.” Leera pushed into her heels and smiled.
“It beats stalking you...”
Sadness emanated from her. Loss never got easier, not even for his kind.
“You’d be bored,” she said. “I live an uneventful life. Work, working out, gardening in the summer. I’m a homebody.”
The bell dinged and door panels slid apart. He entered after her and pressed P1. The doors closed. With a jerk, the elevator descended.
“A vegetable garden?” Not a hobby of his, but if she were lying naked in a pumpkin patch he might be convinced otherwise. The accenting contrast of her perfect breasts and dark nipples jutting out over the edge of the large orange vegetables would give him cause to pause.
He swallowed thickly.
“Yes, how did you know?” She smiled then pressed her lips into a thin line.
“Peter told me you’re a genius-turned-chef. Vegetables seemed a natural leap. You studied at the institute of Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, correct?” The best school of French cuisine. She’d gone away to study, probably to be a great distance from the serious Waltz family businesses of law and politics. Not to mention, the pressure.
“I did.” With her straight white teeth, she bit into the moist plumpness of her bottom lip.
A shiver shot up his spine. Insinuating such offers with a zombie might not be in her best interest. Not that he planned on eating her in the literal sense of the word. He definitely wanted to taste her in more places and ways than one, but she was work. Better he delay any such encounters until after he flipped the brother to Barton so they could take down Mr. McKie. Once he got that straightened out, whatever occurred would be mutual. The elevator doors opened and he led her to his black Audi with dark tinted windows. He opened her door.
She slipped into the seat. “Are you a haut cuisine connoisseur?” The hemline of her dress rose, revealing her beautiful, fit thighs. In the soft light, her silky bronze legs shimmered.
He frowned at his admiration. “Moi, non, but a good friend of mine, Johann, is the first undead to graduate from the program.” He could only imagine how tender she’d be to bite into, her satiny flesh pressed to his mouth, teasing his lips... He’d forgotten how difficult this would be.
When she’d lifted her legs into the Audi, he shut the door, went around and climbed in on the driver’s side. “Are you buckled in?”
“I am. Thank you.” She tugged the strap over the full mounds of her breasts. They jiggled with the movement, and all he wanted was to have his hands on them.
He exhaled heavily, pulled his belt over his shoulder, across his lap and pushed in. The mechanism clicked. Her belt was on too. He pushed the lock button on the door. The apparatus clicked. He pushed the button again. Why he’d bought a car without the little sticks that indicated the doors were locked or not was beyond him. Her belt seemed in, but what if the latch hadn’t locked?
“Is everything okay?”
If he came up with a good enough reason, she’d let him check her seatbelt. “Yeah, it’s just the seatbelt doesn’t always click in properly. It’s been problematic since I purchased the car.”
“Oh.” She breathed out and tugged the strap.
He covered her hand and yanked, and she jerked her hand back.
Not good. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m the one that should be sorry,” she said, her dark gaze fixed on him. “You were just looking out for me.”
Exactly. If he checked again, she’d think he was crazy.
The beige lighting in the parking lot shone on the velvety texture of her skin. Vaihan turned on the engine, put the car in reverse, pulled out of his parking spot. Arrows marked the path he followed to the exit. He pushed the lock button again. If he tapped the brakes at a low speed and she didn’t fall out, the strap was probably secure. He stopped at the pay counter.
“Nice to see you, Mr. Louchian.” The young lad behind the glass counter smiled.
“Jazz, back on the evening shift?” Vaihan removed a twenty from the cup holder.
“Yes, but only while Frank is away.” He tapped commands into a keyboard. “Your total comes to ten dollars.”
He held out the cash. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks.” The young man saluted off his turban.
In the last few moments, Leera had not spoken a word, though he was sure she’d observed his interaction with the youth.
Vaihan pressed the gas then hit the brake.
Leera gasped but remained in her seat. Good. The belt appeared secure. Though, at high impact it could react differently...not that he was about to test his theory.
“I’m
