he stared at the young woman who sat beside Chloe’s desk. Blonde, her hair falling loose from a chignon as if the wind had ripped at her. Wearing a white wool dress that hinted at a lovely figure. Her face might have been painted by an artist trying to capture the beauty of an angel, her eyes a green so bright they almost seemed to glow.
But it was her scent that punched him, held him rigid in the hell between hunger and self-control.
“Creed?” Chloe said.
With an extreme effort, he dragged his gaze from the woman and looked at Chloe. “Hi,” he managed.
“This is Yvonne Depuis. She’s here to see Jude. Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“I’m not sure. He wanted to make sure Terri made it safely back to the morgue.”
“Morgue?” Yvonne Depuis’s eyes widened.
“Terri is a medical examiner,” Chloe said swiftly. “She’s been out at a crime scene.”
“Who is Terri?”
“Jude’s … wife,” Chloe answered, shading the truth a bit.
“Oh.” Yvonne tried a smile. The way the corners of her mouth trembled called to Creed. He had to force himself to cross the room and sit on the couch as if nothing at all was happening, certainly not the momentous response inside himself.
“This is silly,” Yvonne said to Chloe. “Everyone’s going to laugh at me.”
“Honey,” Chloe said, “around here we don’t laugh at anything except Garner.”
From his corner of the room, Garner snorted.
“Okay, then you’ll think I’m nuts.”
“We don’t do that, either,” Chloe said, sending a significant look to Creed. Just as he wondered what she meant, she added, “Do we, Creed?”
“Um, no.” From Chloe’s look he could tell he was required to elaborate, so he said, “At least not since my … relative was attacked by a demon, I certainly don’t laugh.”
Yvonne turned in her chair and looked at him. “Really?”
“Really,” he answered grimly, and wished she’d look away because, well, he was getting perilously close to losing the battle with his natural instincts.
What the hell was wrong with him? Maybe he should just bail now and go home to work. It would be the safer alternative. But as he stared at the blonde something else struck him.
“Do I know you?”
He was horrified to see her blush faintly, because that rising blood in her cheeks called to him like water in a desert.
“I, uh, I saw you once,” she admitted. “You were on your way out of the building as I was walking up. I think that was when I was thinking about buying the condo there.”
Now he remembered. The briefest moments in passing as he left his building, moving as fast as possible while pretending to be human, to avoid noticing anyone, to avoid the kind of neighborly contact that could create problems. He could easily have missed her scent, if the wind was right and he was going the other way. “Did you buy it?”
“Yes.” She furrowed her brow a bit. “Don’t you own one of the penthouses?”
Something in him stilled. She had troubled to find out where he lived, which meant her interest was more than passing. He needed to keep an eye on her. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “The topmost.”
She nodded. “Nice to meet you, neighbor.” Then she turned back to Chloe.
He wasn’t sure this was nice at all, not when he considered how hard he worked to make certain his neighbors just plain didn’t notice him.
He had put out the cover story that he was a reclusive intellectual with a medical problem who worked odd hours on papers for an international relations think tank, all of which was true except for the recluse part. Of course, being a vampire could be considered a medical problem.
He made sure to be seen leaving by way of the lobby once in a while, and coming back the same way so questions wouldn’t be asked, he had food delivered which he then carted out in smaller quantities to a food bank, and his blood deliveries sailed in safely under the banner of his “medical problem.”
But why had she asked about him, based on one small glimpse of him leaving the building?
He stared at her back and wished Jude would hurry up. He had questions now about this woman, and they were questions he could not ask. But Jude could, without making her suspicious.
The phone rang and Chloe answered. “Hi, Jude! When will you be back? You’ve got a client waiting. Okay. I’ll tell her.”
Chloe hung up and smiled at Yvonne. “He says fifteen minutes, max.”
Creed wished he could see more than the back of Yvonne’s head. Could feel more than uneasiness and a strong desire to pounce. Her aroma kept wafting his way, and only curiosity kept him from going home now to get out of the range of temptation.
And only self-restraint kept him glued to the couch. Finally, desperate, he announced, “I need some air,” and walked out. He waited outside on the quieting night street in the cold autumn air, impervious to the temperature.
And then Jude emerged from the shadows. Creed had heard his approach, though no mortal ever would have.
“What’s up?” Jude asked.
“Your new client.”
Jude came to stand beside him. “What?”
“She lives in my building, just moved there.”
“Okay.”
“And she knows where I live even though she claims to have seen me only once.”
“That made you suspicious.”
It wasn’t a question, which Creed appreciated. “You know the profile I keep. Of course it made me suspicious. She shouldn’t have noticed me enough to be curious. All I did was pass her quickly on my way out one night.”
“Well, some humans do feel an instinctive fascination.”
“Maybe. But then she turns up at your office.”
Jude nodded. “Consider me on guard. Maybe you should go home.”
“I’m curious. But her scent …”
Jude suddenly laughed. “Okay. I understand that one. Terri’s scent about drove me nuts. Can you handle it long enough to satisfy your curiosity?”
“I’ll have to. If you see her in confidence, you can’t tell me a damn thing.”
“Then come on. Let’s go get our answers.”
“But not
