“Yes.” When put that way, it sounded a little less than rational, but his conviction did not change. “And if you recall, I have always wanted to get married.”
“You’re insane. You’re more impulsive than me. And I swear, that’s why I like you so much.”
Corbin liked to think he was intuitive, not impulsive. He was a scientist. He did his work slowly and methodically, yes, but he also went with what modern slang called the gut instinct. It had served him in research, and he was certain it was right once again.
They
had
to get married.
“I don’t want to do something crazy... I need to think... ”
Knowing when to retreat, he kissed her forehead. “That you consider it is all I ask. We are good together.”
And they would stay together. He would do anything to ensure that.
Maybe they
should
move in together.
Brittany lay in bed beside Corbin, knowing she needed to get up, go home, shower, head to the office.
But she was still sleepy, languid, warm under the comforter. And Corbin had just returned to bed for the day, and he was already asleep, his breathing steady, mouth slightly open. She liked being next to him and didn’t want to leave. It had been very nice to be waking up, dozing in and out as he had stripped down to his boxer shorts, climbed under the sheets, and given her a soft kiss. Just like it had felt comforting, safe, to go to sleep knowing he was working in the next room.
It felt right.
Maybe they could modify his marriage idea to cohabitation. It would be good to have several months together in that kind of intimate relationship before the baby arrived. Brittany was willing to take the plunge. She’d even give up her apartment, go halfsies with him on a house, or a condo, because if they moved in together, she would put her heart, her energy, her resources into making it work. That was the way she was, and she liked the picture of her and Corbin sitting on their patio, watching their baby play in the sandbox.
The one thing she couldn’t see herself doing was marrying him. That scared her and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because she was afraid to fail. Maybe it was because marriage had never brought her mother happiness. Maybe it was because in twenty years she’d be sagging and Corbin would still be gorgeous.
Or maybe it was because she was an idiot.
All were credible possibilities.
And the bottom line was if she had doubts, she shouldn’t marry him. Living together, though, that was different. That could work.
Trying not to disturb him, Brittany rolled to her left and shimmied out from under the sheet. It felt like her stomach had grown just since the night before, and the baby was making that fluttery ticklish sensation beneath her belly button. “Good morning,” she whispered to Coco Renee, or whoever she would wind up being, pressing her hand over the movement.
Brittany wandered into the other room, yawning. First thing they would have to fix when they moved in together was the food situation.
“Jesus.” She blanched when she opened the fridge, hoping for OJ to miraculously appear, and instead found herself face to face with bags of blood. She should have known better. She never went in Alex’s refrigerator anymore.
“Note to self: Get two fridges for new house.” And what the hell was that noise?
Brittany heard a chirping beep over and over, coming from Corbin’s lab room. She glanced toward the door, curious in spite of herself. But strolling into a room full of viral test tubes didn’t seem like a hot idea. On the other hand... maybe she could just poke her head around the corner. If anything were toxic, Corbin wouldn’t leave the door open.
A quick glance inside showed a room very normal in appearance. It looked like an office, with cabinets and laminate countertops running around three walls. There were test tubes and a refrigerator—she so did not want to know what was in there—but everything else seemed to be tucked away into the cabinets. Corbin was neat in his work space. It was one of the three computers that was making the noise. It seemed to be some kind of alarm alert, like Brittany’s reminder chime that went off the morning she had a doctor’s appointment.
What did Corbin have on his night’s schedule? Sample collection at eleven? She remembered how she had seen him using pleasure to daze a woman while he withdrew her blood, and she hoped like hell he’d stopped using that particular method. Science be damned, she wasn’t going to tolerate his lips on anyone else if they were going to make this work.
What exactly did Corbin do all night?
The question rolled around in her head, set her imagination racing. She doubted his research would make any sense to her, but then again she’d gotten a bachelor’s degree in biology, and had gone to dental school. She knew her anatomy and physiology, and had a rudimentary knowledge of pharmaceuticals in general, and a vast knowledge of analgesics. What exactly was involved in Corbin’s vaccine?
Glancing back toward the bedroom, she couldn’t see him because of the angle of the door, but Corbin wasn’t making any sound.
This was nosy and wrong. What if he had porn on his computer screen? What if he had financial data listed? What if he got e-mails from obsessive women who wanted him to bite them again?
But if it was any of the above, wasn’t she entitled to know?
Brittany chewed her bottom lip. Alex would have poked through his entire hard drive in the time she’d been standing there debating. She moved forward, tugging her sleep shirt down.
It wasn’t porn. A reassuring beginning.
The screen showed a row of numbers, and the beeping seemed to indicate Corbin needed to do something to continue on with whatever analysis or program he was running. Nothing particularly interesting. But it was what was sitting next to the computer that suddenly caught her attention. A plastic bag marked
BALDIZZI, BRITTANY
with a bar code underneath. And inside that bag was one of her dark hairs, still long from before she’d cut it.
What the frick was that? Why did he have her hair and when had he taken it? The thought that he’d picked a hair off her pillow after they’d made love sat wrong. And if he was running tests on her for something, drugs, DNA, whatever, he could have mentioned it to her first. The bar code was labeled BB1977. Which she realized was the same damn code sitting right on Corbin’s computer screen. He was running her DNA through some kind of software. It wasn’t a spreadsheet she was seeing, it was a search.
Next to her number was another code—RD1021 and an explanatory paragraph that spouted a whole bunch of words and numbers, the end result of which was the claim that, given all points of comparison, the specimen matched to within a 0.4 percent margin of error, establishing a positive paternity.
Oh. My. God. Corbin had found her biological father. RD1021 was her father, whoever the hell he was.
“What do you mean? Who’s Roberto?” Alexis asked stupidly, her hands wrapped in Gwenna’s tiny ones.
“How could Donatelli know about the baby?” Ethan asked, looming behind her, his voice tight and angry.
“Donatelli?” Oh, crap. The last man in the world Alexis wanted to catch wind of her sister’s situation. That pig would sell his mother for a quick buck. That is, if she hadn’t died about a thousand years earlier and Donatelli wasn’t a vampire.
“Yes, he knows. And he’s here, in Las Vegas, to investigate. I don’t think he knows your sister is the mother, but he knows there is a baby, the Frenchman’s child, and that he will be a special opportunity for bargaining with Atelier.”
“Bastard.” Alexis squeezed Gwenna’s hands, anger flaring. “I’ll kill him before he touches my niece or nephew.”
“How do
you
know Donatelli knows?”
Uh-oh. Big brother was suspicious. Alexis knew that tone from Ethan and it wasn’t a happy one. She let go of Gwenna and put her hand on his arm, feeling the taut, tense muscles.
Gwenna’s cheeks went pink and she looked at the floor. “I can still read Roberto’s thoughts if I try. He is open to me even if he doesn’t realize it. Normally nothing tempts me to listen, but two days ago, I felt sudden, intense anger from him—directed at me.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, her long, lithe fingers fluttering a little.
She reminded Alexis of a delicate bird, a white crane, or a tiny hummingbird. As they stared at her, she shifted uncomfortably, her movements self-conscious.
“I haven’t done anything to invoke his ire—not in several hundred years. I was surprised to feel that kind of anger. I thought we were past that, so I listened. It seems he had someone tell him that I was having, well, a love affair with the Frenchman. Which is ridiculous, of course,” she added in a rush. “And I think he knows that, but it still made him jealous. While I was gleaning this from him, I heard that he knows Atelier has impregnated an Impure, that there will be a three-quarter vampire child. As I said, he’s here to see how that information can serve him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you can still hear his thoughts?” Ethan asked through gritted teeth.
That’s what he took from that extraordinary revelation? Alexis almost rolled her eyes. “Who cares? The point is, she can, and what she heard sucks. That impregnated Impure happens to be my sister.”
“Who told him?” Ethan put his hand in his hair and closed his eyes, like he was gathering his thoughts or his patience, maybe both.
The answer came to Alexis out of nowhere. “Ringo. Ringo and Kelsey. They left right after we found out Brittany was pregnant. And Ringo was there, in the apartment, with them when Brittany told Corbin. He must have overheard.” Even as she spoke, she became more and more convinced that was what had happened. Who else could have known?
“But how did Ringo contact Donatelli? He’s in New York. Or was.”
“Maybe they went to New York. They’ve been gone for two months. You should have sent someone to find him.” Like she had told him. Alexis didn’t think it was cool that Ringo had tried to kill her husband, got punished, then walked away and no one bothered to haul his butt back to Vegas. That kind of leniency rubbed her nerves raw as a prosecutor.
“It didn’t seem like a big deal to just let him go. I figured Kelsey would slow him down, peck at his conscience.”
“You’re too nice. Someone breaks the law, lock them up and throw away the key. Otherwise, there’s no point in even having the laws in the first place.”
“She a lawyer,” Ethan told Gwenna. “Don’t let her scare you.”
Alexis smacked him. “I’m serious. You need to reevaluate this with your cabinet after the reelection is behind you. This is the first step to lawlessness, if vampire crime isn’t cracked down on.”
Ethan studied her. “Maybe you’d like a job?”
“Are you serious?” Alexis thought that through.
“Yes, I’m serious. I have no experience with that, and the Nation has a criminal tribunal, but perhaps we need to clean house.”
“Sweet. I’d love to do that.” It was the only way she liked to clean—firing useless bureaucrats sounded much better than dusting. “But what do we do now about Donatelli and my sister?”
“He won’t hurt your sister,” Gwenna said. “I’m sure of it.”
Alexis was not reassured. “Maybe not until the baby is born, but what about afterward?”
Gwenna smoothed her hands down the front of her jeans. It amazed Alexis how thin and petite Gwenna was. That khaki blazer had to have come from BabyGap.
“Roberto is out for money and power. He won’t kill anyone.”
Um, someone needed to give up the delusions. “He broke my arm the last time I saw him. He had a knife in Kelsey’s chest. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, Gwenna.”