haunted him.
Natalie sighed. She lifted her fist and extended her pinkie finger, encased in the soft leather glove.
“Pinkie swear, I’ll be here,” she murmured and then narrowed her eyes. “Pinkie swear my friends are safe.”
He gaped at the gesture. She was the only one who’d ever pulled this with him. Good God, if any of his business opponents ever found out, he’d lose his dangerous edge in negotiations. All those years ago when they’d shared secrets by her bedside, she’d always held him to account. He knew how gravely she viewed a pinkie swear. He lifted his pinkie and curled it around hers.
“Pinkie swear,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll keep you and your friends safe.”
Her brow dipped at his words, but only for a moment before another yawn surprised her. She pulled her hand away from him to cover her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Right, I’m off to crash for a couple of hours, and then I’ll get back to this.” She started to walk around him but he grabbed her arm gently to halt her.
She was so close, he could smell her, that sweet scent edged with spice. “Wait,” he said. Her eyes met his in surprise, a flash of wariness tinged with curiosity and something a little warmer glinted as she returned his gaze before dropping briefly to look at his lips. He smiled and her stare returned to his. He raised both hands to the top of her head and removed her spectacles, folding them carefully before handing them back to her. “Don’t forget your glasses,” he whispered. He tilted his head forward.
A book flew off the shelf, hit him in the cheek, and he reeled back. “What the hell?” he growled in shocked surprise.
Natalie gasped, her hand covering her mouth.
“I’ll defend your honor,” Rupert said smugly, dusting off his hands.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as Lucien rubbed his cheek and bent to pick up the book. Shakespeare’s Macbeth. “It must have fallen off the shelf,” she offered with a wince.
He eyed the bookshelf that stood three feet away. “Yeah, it fell,” he said, not buying it one bit. He handed her the book, but held on to it briefly as she clasped it. She was still wearing her gloves, he noticed.
“I’m trusting you,” he said softly.
She nodded solemnly. “That goes both ways, Lucien.”
He dipped his head and strode out of the room.
He shut the door behind him then turned back to look at the plaque bearing the lettering Professor N. Segova. His brows pulled together. She used to call him Luc, once upon a time. He sighed as he walked away. Well, at least now he had her cooperation.
Natalie glared at Rupert. “Macbeth, Rupert? Seriously?” She shook her head as she placed the book back on the shelf. “That was rude.” Rupert had been a ghost for nearly a century and had picked up some tricks through his research at the institute.
“You’re welcome,” Rupert responded before shuffling over to his chair. “Now, why don’t you tell me exactly what’s going on?”
Natalie took the seat next to him and told him everything. Well, nearly everything. She left out the part about the kiss. Rupert was like the grandfather she’d never known and there were some things she just didn’t share with him.
“However did you meet Lucien Marchetta? Even I knew of him—and his family. You two don’t look like you’d move in the same circles.”
She laughed for a moment. “No, we did not. I met him when I was nine years old, in the hospital. I was going through a round of chemotherapy and dialysis, and he’d occasionally come and visit.” She didn’t go into the detail of their first meeting, or how she, a sickly nine-year-old, had negotiated unlimited visits from whom she’d later learned was a savvy business tycoon.
“Well, now I’ve heard everything. A philanthropic Marchetta,” Rupert quipped.
Natalie smiled. “Well, we met there, but he continued to visit me, even after I left the hospital.” She shook her head. “He’d wake me up in the middle of the night, and we’d chat for hours. Sometimes I’d read to him, sometimes he’d read to me...” She tapped a gloved finger on her jean-clad thigh. “He never treated me like some sick invalid. He’d take me on excursions and always had me back home before sunrise, and before my parents woke up.”
Rupert tipped his head to the side. “I’m not sure if that’s sweet or a tad creepy.”
“Oh, sweet. Definitely sweet. He was always the perfect gentleman.”
He’d never once acted as though there was anything more—not even when she’d gotten drunk on her sixteenth birthday and demanded a kiss as a gift. He’d given her a very chaste peck on her forehead. Then, when she was nineteen...well, that still belonged in the too-humiliating-to-remember file. Today? Well, today was a revelation, on so many levels. Natalie’s cheeks warmed. Just remembering his lips on hers, his body against hers—phew. She pulled off her gloves. She always made sure she wore them at work—she never knew what she might encounter with some of these books and artifacts. Her hands were uncomfortably warm. She was uncomfortably warm. She swallowed, conscious that Rupert was watching her intently.
“In fact, he was like a big brother to me—you know, like the program they used to run through hospitals and schools? I tried to apply for that, but got rejected on account of my terminal illness, but that didn’t seem to bother him.”
“He sounds like quite a friend.”
“He was. My best friend—my only friend. At least, that’s what I thought. He said he’d always be there for me, and I believed him. Until he wasn’t.”
“Natalie,” Rupert chided. “What happened to you—that was unforeseeable. Surely you can’t blame him—”
“I do,” she interrupted. “He was in town, Rupert. I was out, because I wanted to see him. My parents were out with me, because I wanted to go see him. And then we were killed.” She shrugged. “Never trust a vampire, Rupert. They’ll say anything, do anything, to get what they want.”
“But you told him you trusted him tonight,” Rupert pointed out.
“No, I didn’t. I told him trust works both ways.” She did not, could not, trust that particular vampire. If the vampire and werewolf hadn’t killed her, her broken heart would have.
“Relax, Rupert. I might be working with Lucien, but I don’t trust him.” She yawned noisily and Rupert grimaced.
“Well, he’s right about something. You need some sleep. Off you go, and I’ll keep going through the library.”
Natalie smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Rupert.”
“Yes, well, he’s caught my interest. A cure for lycanthropulism.” Rupert was still chuckling when Natalie left.
* * *
“I wasn’t sure I’d see you back here,” Lucien admitted
