Betting on Julia (A Melville Sisters Novel) (Entangled Covet) (10 page)

She realized she was happy to see him, really happy, like a light flicking on inside her. It seemed so right to be close to him. She couldn’t remember ever feeling like this about a man before. The intensity should worry her, but it didn’t.

Once in the taxi, he turned as if sensing her gaze. Taking her hand from her lap, he raised it to his mouth and kissed her palm. A shiver ran through her, racing along her nerves, sparking little fires inside her.

“Thanks for coming out with me tonight, helping me celebrate.”

“Hey, what are friends for.”

He kissed her again, tracing a pattern on her palm with the tip of his tongue, and everything inside her clenched up tight. No one, not ever, had made her feel this way. He lowered her hand but kept hold of it, resting it in his lap.

Could there be a chance for them? She’d thought she could never contemplate a long-term relationship again. How could she hide what she was? She had a flashback to that niggle of doubt at the gym the other night. When she’d thought for a brief moment that maybe he was more than human. But she knew it was only wishful thinking. Because she liked him and she didn’t want to let him go or see him recoil in horror if he ever found out what she really was.

Also, how could she expect any man to give up the idea of a family? But Bastian already knew about the baby problem, and he hadn’t seemed fazed.

It wouldn’t be as though she was deceiving him. And if Leloo stayed quiet, then for most of the time she would be fine. Just get through the furry problem each month, and he need never know. She often had to go away to do interviews or research for her work, would he notice if they always coincided with the full moon?

But what if he still only wanted friendship? What if he really wasn’t ready for a relationship?

Maybe she’d try a little subtle flirting. She almost smiled—Lissa would have scoffed at the word subtle, claiming Julia didn’t have a subtle bone in her body. As subtle as a steamroller, she’d once said.

But she didn’t want to scare him off.

At the restaurant, the hostess seated them straightaway at a table in the center of the room. It was a beautiful place, elegant and sophisticated, filled with the subdued
clink
of silver and crystal and the low murmur of voices. Julia was betting it cost a bomb, and it occurred to her to wonder how wealthy Sebastian really was. She worked for a women’s magazine, she knew about these things, and she was betting his suit was Armani, his shirt was silk, and he wore an unobtrusive gold watch at his wrist. And he drove a Lamborghini. He was obviously a very successful accountant. So why was he living next door to her? The house was nice enough but it was hardly a Lamborghini standard of a house. Maybe he’d had to move fast and had taken what he could get, but that didn’t seem likely. Or maybe he just liked the neighborhood.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

The words were pretty corny, but she found she didn’t care. “Not yet, but feel free.”

“It makes me a little bit sorry that we came out tonight, we could be back at your place…”

“Eating ice cream.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth, his eyes turning dark. “You know, I had this fantasy about you and ice cream, that night we had pizza.”

“You did?” Great minds obviously thought alike. A shiver ran through her as she had an image of her smothered in strawberry ice cream. Or maybe him covered in strawberry ice cream.

“Oh yeah.”

“Well, make sure you don’t eat too much dinner, and we can have dessert back at my house.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She put the image from her because it was doing weird things to her insides and she wanted to enjoy the evening. It wasn’t often she came to places like this, and she liked to eat.

The filet steak tempted her, which was worrying; she’d not eaten red meat for ten years before the…incident. Now she craved it. Instead, she ordered mussels in garlic and white wine for starters followed by salmon.

Sebastian ordered the steak, but then he didn’t have to be concerned that a lump of red meat might wake some monster inside him. Lucky man.

She sipped icy-cold white wine while they ate their first course and spoke about nothing important. She felt so easy, relaxed with him. Her food was delicious, and she mopped up the last of the sauce with a piece of bread and sat back with a sigh. Then glanced across at him. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve enjoyed this week. I mean
really
enjoyed. I’ve been going through a bit of a rough patch, and you made me forget it all.”

“So have I. Enjoyed myself, I mean. More than I could have imagined.”

“I’m glad.”

He put down his glass and leaned toward her. “You know, I said that I wasn’t ready for a relationship and that we should just be friends but…”

He trailed off and she almost screamed in frustration. She was sure he’d been going to say they should try for a real relationship and she’d been ready to offer a resounding yes. She wanted this to work. Wanted one good thing in her fucked-up life.

But Sebastian’s mouth snapped closed and whatever he’d been going to say, remained unsaid. He stared past her left shoulder. For a second, something flashed in his eyes. Horror? Then it was wiped away and his expression went blank.

Chapter Ten

Fuck.

Bastian tried not to stare, not wanting to alert Julia that anything was wrong.

That everything was wrong. But he reckoned it was too late. A frown formed between her eyes, her li
ps pursed.

Things had been going so well. He was about to dump the whole friends issue and move the relationship forward. And he was certain Julia would agree.

Now, unless he could find a way to avert the catastrophe that was about to crash down around his head, he was well and truly fucked. The couple across the room hadn’t spotted him yet, but the hostess was leading them across the floor on a route that would take them right past his table.

It would be impossible to miss him.

Did he have time to get up, run for cover, or drop his fork and slip down and hide under the table?

Shit. He had no clue how to play this.

“Bastian?” Julia’s tone held confusion, and he gave himself a mental shake. There was no way out of this. He just had to play it cool. It didn’t have to be a disaster.

The hostess had veered away and was leading the couple between the tables and his locked muscles relaxed a little. Maybe he wouldn’t be spotted after all.

“Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew.”

At that moment, Colin turned as though he sensed Bastian watching him.

Double fuck.

But it wasn’t Colin who was the problem here; he could be relied upon to be discreet. He paused, touched the arm of the woman at his side, and spoke to her. And she also turned to look. For a moment, Melanie’s expression lit up. She was obviously happy to see him, but as her gaze flicked to Julia, her eyes narrowed.

Triple fuck.

He hadn’t even been aware Colin and Melanie knew each other, but he supposed it was inevitable. They both existed on the fringe of the supernatural world.

The timing was so bad here. He had one more night before Dante showed up again. One chance to get those words past Julia’s lips.

This week, he’d been playing the nice guy, and actually, he was amazed at how easily the role had come to him. Tomorrow, it would be downright impossible. Dante brought out the darker side in him, woke urges and needs usually trapped way down in his self-conscious. Urges he was sure Julia wouldn’t appreciate.

She was aware something was wrong and swiveled in her seat to see what was holding his attention.

Colin and Melanie were heading straight toward them now. It would be impossible not to introduce them.

Could he pretend to be someone else? Amnesia?

Increasingly desperate scenarios raced through his head as the couple came to a halt beside the table. He rose reluctantly to his feet and cast a quick peek at Julia. She didn’t seem too concerned, probably more confused at his behavior than anything else.

Colin was dressed in a black suit and looked like a gangster. Melanie was dressed, as always, in scarlet, a dress that showed a lot of impressive cleavage and was open from the waist down so when she put her leg forward in a model pose, her slender thigh was revealed.

She looked like what she was.

She stepped in closer and rested a hand on his shoulder, reached up, and kissed him straight on the mouth.

He didn’t dislike Melanie. She was what she was, and was honest and up front about it. Among other things, she loved being tied up and flogged, the harder, the better, and she was fond of men who would do it to her. And according to her, Sebastian was the best. Of course, he could lay the credit for that one firmly with Dante, though Melanie wasn’t to know that.

“Bastian, sweetie, I thought you were out of town.”

“No,” he said.

She stepped back but still kept the hand on his arm. “You didn’t answer my calls. And when I went around to your place, the concierge told me you were away.” She pouted. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“Of course not,” he said smoothly. “I’ve been busy that’s all.”

Her glance strayed from him to Julia, who was looking politely inquisitive, and she smiled. “Hello, I’m Melanie.” At last she dropped the hand from Bastian’s arm—he’d been resisting the urge to peel it away—and held it out to Julia.

Had Julia reacted to the name? Why the hell had he told her his old girlfriend was called Melanie? Of course, he’d never thought that they would run into the real thing.

Julia glanced at the hand, with its scarlet-tipped fingernails, and held out her own, the pale pink a vivid contrast. She smiled as they shook hands, but a frown was forming between her eyes.

“Melanie?”

“Melanie Stoke, an old…friend of Bastian’s.”

“He mentioned you. I’m Julia. His new next-door neighbor.”

Dangerous ground. But Melanie didn’t seem to find that odd; maybe she presumed Julia meant at the penthouse.

“Julia is a journalist,” he said to deflect any more questions on the subject. “For a women’s magazine.”

“Really. And are you and she…?”

“We’re just friends,” he said.

“Hmmm, she doesn’t seem your usual type.”

“He has a type?” Julia asked.

“Let’s say, at the club, he usually selects a more”—she looked Julia up and down, a small smile curving her lips—“obvious partner.”

“The club?” Julia asked.

“I run a little club in Soho—Mel’s Dive,” Melanie replied. “We cater to people who like something a little…different. If you’re ever in the area you must drop in, mention my name at the door and you’ll be taken care of.”

“Different?” Julia widened her eyes, but he was sure the expression was fake. While Julia was a nice girl, she was in no way naive.

Instead of answering, Melanie turned to him. “I hope that wasn’t out of place, Bastian-baby, but if the two of you are just friends…”

“Not out of place, no,” he said smoothly. “But Julia isn’t interested in that sort of thing.” Though from the expression of avid interest on Julia’s face, he was guessing she was very interested—if not in doing it, then in hearing about it. Christ, why did he get the idea that his chance of winning the bet this evening had just gone out the window?

“Don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourself a nice girl, Bastian. I really wouldn’t have thought you’d know what to do with one.”

“Now, Melanie,” Colin spoke from beside her. “Don’t be a bitch.”

She gave a grin. “Sorry, sweetie, but you have to admit, it’s intriguing.”

“Very.” He turned to Sebastian. “Actually, I’ve been trying to contact you as well.”

He cast a quick glance at Julia. She was avidly following the conversation. “You have?” he said warily. He was pretty sure that Colin wouldn’t say anything totally out of place in front of a “normal” but there was still a lot of scope for disaster.

“I wanted to say thanks for that job you did—the client was very pleased. And also there’s a fight organized for Sunday night. Someone I think might interest you, well two someones actually—they asked specifically for you—saw you fight last weekend.”

That was an idea, with Dante due back in hours. Maybe he needed to start thinking of ways to pacify the demon. “I’ll call you in the morning,” he said.

Colin nodded. At that point, the waiter arrived with their main courses. “Come on, Mel, let’s leave these two to their meal.”

He thought Melanie might argue, but she blew him a kiss and the two turned away.

He sat down and cast Julia a wary glance. She was quiet as the waiter placed her salmon in front of her. She took one mouthful of food, chewed it slowly, and put her knife and fork down.

“Bastian-baby?” she said, glancing across to where the couple were sitting at a table across the room.

He shrugged. “She likes pet names.”

“Your ex-girlfriend runs a kinky nightclub in Soho?”

“I told you that was one of the reasons we split up—she wanted different things from me.”

“So you’re not into all that weird stuff, like leather outfits and bondage and spanking and…” Her imagination obviously ran out at that point.

“No.”

“But you’d go there, and you’d go with other women.”

“Sometimes. It was something else Melanie liked.”

“Shit, you’d go with other women and she’d watch?”

Or join in. But maybe he wouldn’t tell Julia that. “Can we drop the subject? It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but I thought I loved her and I wanted to make her happy.” Why did he feel guilty about the lie? Julia was a means to an end: his freedom from Dante. He had to say whatever would further his cause. But he hated it. Was almost overwhelmed with the need to spill out the truth.

But she probably wouldn’t believe him.
Hey, I’m possessed by a demon and he’s a kinky bastard and the only way to keep him quiet is satisfy a few of his tamer requirements.
No, it probably wouldn’t further his cause. “Look, I’m sorry you had to meet her; she’s a part of my life I wanted to put behind me. Eat your dinner.”

Maybe the best way to play this was to go back to the recovering-from-a-breakup scenario. “I know I did the right thing, and I feel nothing for her now, but seeing her was awkward.”

She reached across and patted his arm, then picked up her knife and fork and started eating. But he wasn’t out of the danger zone yet. He almost heard her reporter’s brain working.

“There’s a fight on Sunday. What sort of fight?”

“Colin owns a gym. I joined when I first moved here and he sets up bouts—amateur boxing.”

“And you were in one of these fights last weekend?”

“Yes, but they’re nothing serious. A friendly get-together with a few guys. Nobody gets hurt.”
Much.
“It’s not a hobby or anything, just to keep fit.”

“Well, it obviously works.” She took another mouthful of food, a sip of wine. “Could I come and watch?”

“No.” The word came out way too emphatic. He took a deep breath. “You really wouldn’t enjoy it. A horrible, sweaty gym and a load of sweaty men.”

The little frown was back.

“I’m sorry they spoiled our evening. It was going so well. Do you think we could drop the subject for now?”

She smiled. “Of course. But if you ever want to talk…”

“I’ll come to you. But tonight I don’t want to think about the past or anyone else. I wanted it to be just you and me…special.”

“Me, too.”

But the evening was spoiled. Or not spoiled, but different. He was aware of Melanie and Colin across the room, watching them. He caught Melanie’s gaze at one point, and she waggled her fingers at him. When he glanced back at Julia, it was to find her watching him, the little frown furrowing the skin between her eyes.

But good to her word, she dropped the subjects of his ex and fighting. Instead, they talked mainly about her job. He avoided talking about his because he claimed accounting was boring, but really because he’d have to lie and he wanted to keep the lies to a minimum. They made him feel bad.

She talked about an interview she’d done that week with a female politician. Her job was actually much less frivolous than he’d presumed. She interviewed some interesting people for her monthly column.

“What are you doing over the weekend?” she asked.

What he would like to be doing was spending it in bed with Julia. But he was going to have to deal with Dante first. “I have a…friend, well, acquaintance really, but he’s been out of town for a few days and I need to see him tomorrow, catch up on some stuff.”

“I thought you didn’t know anyone in London.”

“He moved at the same time as me.”

“So he doesn’t know anyone either. Nice that you’ve got each other.”

“Yeah.” Another goddamn lie.

But he still had a few hours before the demon showed his ugly face. He wanted to make the most of them.

“Have you had enough to eat?” he asked. He lowered his gaze to her mouth. “Are you ready to go home?”

She licked her lips. “More than ready.”

They didn’t talk in the taxi back, but she rested her head against his shoulder. He had the idea that the questions weren’t over with, but she had put them aside for the evening. Because it was his night, his celebration, and she didn’t want to spoil it. She was just so…nice.

All the same, she was a woman and an inquisitive one at that, and the questions would come. He pushed the worry aside, took her hand, and rested it against his thigh.

She stroked her finger up the inside of his leg, and he rested his head back against the seat. She cupped his balls through his pants and his dick throbbed, coming to immediate attention.

He glanced at the back of the driver’s head and held himself still. “Tease,” he whispered.

“Hmm.” Her hand moved higher, her fingers tracing the shape of him, and he shuddered under the touch.

By the time the taxi pulled up outside her house, he was in an agony of need. She opened the front door, and he ushered her inside, turned her around, and went to kiss her. Instead, she backed away. Holding his gaze, she grabbed the hem of her black dress and pulled it over her head, tossing it over the bannister.

He almost came just from the sight of her in pale pink underwear, black stockings, and four-inch heels. She didn’t look like a good girl now and his cock liked it, straining at his zipper. She stalked toward him, grabbed his hand, and tugged him toward the kitchen.

“Don’t move,” she murmured, and he leaned his butt against the kitchen table. He had an idea where this was going, and he had no intention of moving anywhere. The dimple at the base of her spine flashed as she sashayed across the small room. She bent from the hips as she delved inside the freezer, drawing the pink silk tight across her ass. God, she was gorgeous and so fucking hot, he was going to explode.

Slowly, she straightened and turned, then sauntered toward him with a tub of ice cream held in her hand, a gleam in her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking of doing this all night,” she said. Hooking her finger in his shirt, she pulled him upright before sinking down to her knees in front of him.

“You have?” His voice came out as a croak.

“Oh yeah.” She licked her lips. “I love dessert.” Sitting back on her heels, she studied him. “Take off your jacket.”

He did, dropping it to the floor behind him.

“And the shirt.”

Tugging it out of his pants, he tore it down the front, spraying buttons across the kitchen, and it followed the jacket to the floor.