Dead Perfect
Page 17

She waited while Ronan checked them in at the desk, more than ready for a long hot bath and eight hours’ sleep. Even the elevator was elegant, she thought, as it whisked them up to the 29th floor. Once again, Ronan had reserved two suites adjoining.
“I could get used to this,” Shannah murmured as she crossed the large foyer. The living room was elegant and well appointed. There was a wet bar and a television set, even a fireplace. Gold draperies covered the windows. A high-backed sofa, a comfortable overstuffed chair, and a couple of occasional tables formed a cozy conversation area. Fresh flowers decorated the tables, there were a number of pictures on the walls.
Leaving the living room, she went into the bedroom, which was done in rich tones of gold and red. The king-sized bed was covered with a white spread. There were table lamps on either side. There was a cozy armchair and ottoman covered in a pretty red print, and a glass-topped table. A separate boudoir offered a makeup mirror and dressing area. The marble bathroom was luxurious, with an oval tub, dual sinks, and a separate shower big enough for two.
Returning to the bedroom, she kicked off her sandals, then dug her bare toes into the luxurious carpet. “Wow,” she murmured.
“It is nice, isn’t it?” Ronan remarked, coming up behind her.
“Nice? My apartment is nice. This is…” She spread her arms wide and twirled around. “This is paradise.” Moving to the window, she stared down at Park Avenue, then glanced at him over her shoulder. “I feel like a movie star.”
He laughed softly. “I’m glad you like it.” He took her in his arms because she was vibrant and alive and he couldn’t resist touching her, holding her, if only for a moment. “I’m sure you want to take a bath,” he said, brushing a kiss across her brow, “so I’ll leave you to it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I think I’ll go stretch my legs while you soak in a hot tub.”
“Will you come in and tell me good night before you go to bed?”
“Shall I tuck you in and tell you a bedtime story, too?”
She looked up at him, a smile curving her lips, her eyes filled with merriment. “I think I’d like that.”
He smiled back at her, taking care that she didn’t see the hunger in his eyes.
He wanted her more every time he saw her. Wanted her love, her laughter, her very essence.
He wanted to possess her, body and soul, mind and spirit, wanted to make her his in every way possible. Not for the first time, he wondered what she would say, what she would think, if she knew what he was.
Fighting his hunger, he released her. “I’ll see you before you go to bed.”
Still smiling, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
He stared after her for a moment, then left the room, locking the door behind him.
He prowled the dark underbelly of the city, seeking sustenance among the homeless drifters.
He fed, and then fed again, gorging himself until even his endless hunger was satisfied.
Sated, he returned to the lights of the city, strolling down the street until he came to a night club. Pausing at the door, he let his preternatural senses peruse the place before he stepped inside and sought a small table in the back.
Sitting with his back to the wall, he watched the patrons. Several couples were dancing to an old country song. Others were engaged in the age-old ritual of courting. He caught snippets of conversation; men wooing the girl of their choice with liquor and sweet words, women with their heads together while they debated the merits of this man or that. In all his years as a vampire, he had never contemplated marriage, never engaged in any long-term relationship with a woman. Not that he had lived his preternatural life as a monk. Undead or alive, he was still a man with a man’s needs and a man’s desires. And right now he desired Shannah above all else.
She was never far from his thoughts. Even now, he could hear the sound of her laughter in the back of his mind. It wasn’t smart to fall in love with a mortal woman, nor was it wise to pursue any kind of relationship. In his experience, mortals could not be trusted. He knew of several vampires, both men and women, who had foolishly fallen in love. In every case, once they had revealed the truth, they had been deserted or destroyed. Ronan had no desire to end his existence. And no desire to continue on without Shannah. It was quite a dilemma and one for which he had no clear solution.
Fortunately, he still had time to decide what to do about Shannah. For now, he wanted to hold her in his arms. The thought was no sooner born than he was back at the hotel, knocking on her door.
Curled up in the cozy chair in the bedroom, Shannah glanced at her watch, wondering where Ronan had gone. He had told her he would come back and tell her good night, but it was almost morning.
She yawned, and yawned again, hoping he would return soon because she didn’t think she could stay awake much longer.
A soft knock at the door unleashed a million butterflies in her stomach. She took a deep breath and then another as she made her way into the living room and opened the door.
He didn’t say anything, just stepped into the room, kicked the door closed with his heel, drew her into his arms, and kissed her.
As always, she melted into him, her every thought, her every desire focused on Ronan, only Ronan. Desire flowed through her, warm and honey-sweet. Maybe tonight, she thought, maybe tonight he would carry her to bed and make love to her. She knew he wanted her. She could taste it in his kiss, feel it in the way his body quivered against hers.
She was breathless when he broke the kiss.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for hours,” he said, his voice husky. “I keep telling myself that you’re far too young for me, that I’ll bring you nothing but misery, but I can’t leave you alone.”
He ran his knuckles lightly over her cheek. “I can’t stay away.”
She stared up at him, dazed by his kiss, mesmerized by the heat in his eyes. “I don’t want you to stay away. And I’m not too young.”
“Then I’m too old for you.”
She shook her head, her mind still reeling from the force of his declaration. “How old are you?
Thirty? Thirty-five? That’s not old.”
He laughed softly. “I’m older than you are in more ways than just years, Shannah, love.”
“I don’t care. I want you.”
“I know.” His hand stroked her hair. “I know.”
Lowering his head, he kissed her again.
Wanting more than kisses, Shannah backed slowly toward the sofa. She dropped down on the cushions and he followed her, never taking his mouth from hers. He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up and down her thigh, his thumb caressing the soft curve of her breast.
She shivered at his touch, and pressed herself wantonly against him. “Make love to me,” she whispered.
“Have you ever been with a man before?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“What difference does that make?”
“Have you?”
“Of course. I’m twenty-four.”
“Ah, Shannah, why don’t I believe you?”
She pouted prettily. “I’m dying, Ronan. Don’t let me die a virgin.”
“You’re not dying, love. I won’t let you.”
“You can’t stop it.” Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “No one can. Even being out in the sun is starting to bother me now…”
“What do you mean?” he asked sharply.
“It hurts my eyes. Lately, I can’t go outside during the day without wearing sunglasses.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Several weeks now. I first noticed it when I went to the doctor. It was right after I moved in with you. I should have mentioned it to him, I guess. Do you think it means I’m…that I’m getting worse?”
He grunted softly. Her sensitivity to the sun was more likely a side effect from his blood than any symptom of her illness, but he couldn’t tell her that.
“Shannah.” Sitting beside her, he drew her into his arms. “I promise you, you will not die for a long, long time.”
She smiled faintly. “I almost believe you.”
“Believe it.”
“Have some sort of secret voodoo magic, do you?” she asked, forcing a smile. “Some kind of powerful mojo that will let me run faster than a speeding bullet and leap tall buildings in a single bound?”
“Something like that.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll take care of you, love. Everything will be all right.”
Feeling suddenly weary, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Everything will be all right,”
she murmured. “I don’t know why I believe you, but I do.”
With a sigh, he eased her onto his lap, content to hold her and stroke her hair until he sensed the coming of dawn’s first light.
Carrying her to bed, he tucked her in, then kissed her cheek.
She would make a beautiful vampire, he mused, gazing down at her. Perhaps he would discuss the possibility with her when they returned home.
Thursday night, Shannah sat at a table near the front of the bookstore. This store was bigger than the others had been and she felt like she really was somebody as she sat amid a mountain of books, smiling and signing autographs. Ronan stood behind her. No doubt people thought he was her bodyguard, the way he stood there, hardly moving, hardly blinking.
Shannah smiled as a pretty blonde handed her a book. “Who should I make this out to?”
“Melanie, please.” The girl fidgeted with her handbag, then blurted, “Miss Black, I just have to tell you how much it means to me to meet you. When my mother got so sick that she couldn’t read anymore, my sisters and I took turns reading your books to her. She loved them so much.”
“Thank you for sharing that,” Shannah said, touched by the woman’s words. She glanced back at Ronan, wondering if he’d heard what the woman had to say. Did he think it was as wonderful as she did that his stories influenced people’s lives in such heartfelt ways?