IMMORTAL MATCHMAKERS, INC. (18 page)

Great. That sounds like fun.

Tonight, it would be best if he learned what he could from Sadie, because clearly that woman knew something about seduction, given his obsessive thoughts about her. She could help him hit it out of the park with Charlotte and avoid a lifetime of pure agony.

Now, if he could just stop lusting after Sadie, everything would be perfect.
On the other hand, perhaps if you got Sadie out of your system? S
he was, after all, a modern woman who seemed extremely comfortable with a little casual fucking. As long as he was forthcoming and honest about their relationship, a little messing around would be fair game.

Yes, tonight, I will work on my wooing technique with Sadie. Perhaps she’ll reward me with a little prize.

He only hoped it would be enough if he succeeded.

~~~

Tommaso was totally cheating at cards. How did she know? Because every time he switched out a card, he tried to distract her from his sleight of hand with a little flirtation.

She laid down her cards. “Full house. Read ’em and weep, pretty boy.” Her father had taught her and her sister to play cards when they were little. It was the time before iPads, so whenever they took vacations—generally camping or somewhere quiet and away from the crowds her father despised—they played cards. Poker, blackjack, gin rummy, she knew them all. Funny, though, her father always beat them, like he had X-ray vision and always knew their hands.

“I cannot believe you won again.” He laid down his cards and threw up his hands. “You’re impossible to beat—must be your dress that’s distracting me.”

She smiled. She’d decided to wear her little black dress, the one with no back coverage and a draping neckline that showed her cleavage. She’d also worn her brown hair up in a loose twist that showed off her long neck and smooth shoulders. Makeup covered the quickly fading marks from the night before.

“Maybe if you stopped cheating and tried to focus on the game, you could win,” she replied, looking at her watch. It was almost eight o’clock, but she hadn’t seen Andrus yet.

Tommaso flashed a charming smile and dipped his head. “But cheating is so much fun.”

She shook her head. “Is it true you used to be evil?” she asked.

“Eh.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I prefer to say morally challenged. But yes, I lived for many years possessed by evil. I’m all better now. The cheating is just because I find that a little bad behavior takes the edge off. Being good all the time is too much pressure.”

“It’s kind of weird, but I know what you mean. My dad always pushed me to be perfect in everything—a ‘good girl.’ I think it just pushed me to do bad things for a little relief, to prove to myself I was still in control.” Her father had also been a very antisocial man. Outside of his dentist practice, he saw no one except for their stepmother, her, and her sister. He never allowed anyone to come to the house either. It made her rebellious years more rebellious than usual because she felt even more caged by him. Now, however, he’d loosened up a bit, although he still worried about her more than he should.

“And,” Tommaso leaned forward, “do you still enjoy doing bad things?”

“Not anymore. Yes, I cuss and lose my temper sometimes. But bad bad? No. I’m a good girl.”

“Oh really?” Tommaso cocked a dark brow. “Then why do I get a hidden naughty-girl vibe from you?”

“Are you flirting with her, Tommaso?” Andrus’s deep, deep voice soared through the dining room like a flying hammer on a mission to smash something to bits.

Sadie’s heart bounced, and her body shivered at the sight of Andrus, who looked like a tall, delicious piece of sexy man in a tailored dark suit and blue shirt that matched his eyes. His tie was a few shades darker than the shirt and his shoes were actual shoes. Polished black leather.

Her breath stuck in her lungs. “Wow,” she gasped. “You look, um…”
fuckable.
“Nice.”

He lifted a brow. “Nice?”

“Sorry.” She cleared the lust in her throat. “I mean dangerous and deadly.”
And so fuckable
. Some large men couldn’t pull off a suit—they looked like rhinos trying to fit into the skin of a gazelle—but Andrus looked sleek and tall and…
hmmm…
as delicious as the first time she’d laid eyes on him. “I just hope you don’t try to murder me with a steak knife.”

He smiled, possibly noting her obvious drooling. “No knives where we’re going.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Seriously, Andrus? You said no knives.”

“That is not a knife.” His eyes washed over the woman in the shiny pink belly-dancing costume, balancing a giant blade on her head while expertly shimmying her coin-covered hips.

No, that certainly wasn’t. It was a huge fucking sword. Should she warn the woman not to approach Andrus?

The waiter, dressed in an Aladdin outfit, showed them to their “table’’—a giant silver tray with legs, surrounded by a bunch of round pillows. How the hell was she going to sit in her dress?

“Whatever you do, don’t look under the table,” Sadie said, carefully kneeling down. “And by the way, you get a fail on making me feel special.”

“Now I’m definitely going to look under the table. And why did I fail?” he said, mocking a defensive tone.

“You were totally checking out that woman. That’s a big no-no on a date.”

Andrus removed his coat, laid it over the cushion next to him, and sat down on his pillow across from her. “I was merely looking at her and thinking how she’s got nothing on you. Especially in that dress you’re wearing. Are you trying to kill me with heatstroke?” He grinned and fanned his face.

“Oh.” Sadie tilted her head. “Good save, my man. Good save.” She high-fived him from across the table.

He dipped his head and grinned. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“So what made you pick this place?” she asked. Although it was located in some out-of-the-way strip mall, the interior was pretty cool—full-blown Moroccan style, with dark silky fabric billowing from the ceiling and Persian rugs on the floor. She felt like she’d been transported to a Lawrence of Arabia film.

“I think eating with your hands can be a very sensual experience,” he replied, in that deep, masculine sensual voice that made her bones tingle.

Dear Magic Genie of Lust, help me get through this evening in one piece.

Sadie then noticed there were no utensils set out. She loved it. But this wasn’t about her tonight. It was about him learning to be aware of his woman.

“And what made you think I would want to eat with my hands?” she asked.

“Ah. Well, two things. You seem to enjoy experiences more than simply completing tasks. For you, it’s all about the journey.”

“Wow. I’m floored. How’d you know that?” They barely knew each other.

“By the way you carry yourself and speak. There’s a hint of hunger or thirst in everything you do. You have the spirit of an adventurer.”

Yes, he was dead on, and it was amazing how well he read her.

He added, “That, and I thought you’d feel more comfortable if there weren’t any knives on the table.” He leaned in. “Of course, that doesn’t mean I didn’t bring my own.”

She laughed. “To make me feel safe?”

“Of course.”

“Wow.” She gave him a little clap. “I’m impressed, Andrus. You really did think of me.”

“Good. Now we can enjoy our meal and relax. What would you like to drink?”

“Ummm…I think I’d like white wine. The food looks kind of spicy.”

Just then, the server showed up with a large golden bowl, a tea-kettle-looking thing, and two hand towels.

“Place your hands over the bowl,” Andrus instructed.

She stretched out her arms, and Andrus took her hands, gently stroking her palms with his fingertips, as the waiter poured warm floral-scented water. The sensation of his touch shot sensual goose bumps over her skin, also sparking little tingles over her erogenous zones. He felt so good, like he had some delicious current of hot manly sexual goodness surging through his body.

He took the hand towels from the server and slowly rubbed her hands dry, staring into her eyes.

Wow. I think I just had a finger-gasm.
He’d touched her hand, but she felt its sexual effects all the way down to her toes.

Once the handwashing was complete, he ordered her a bottle of wine and made a few recommendations on dishes—a very gentlemanly thing to do. She had to admit that seeing Andrus so effortlessly charm his way through dinner made her wonder why the hell he needed her at all.

“Andrus? Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” He smirked.

“Funny boy. Seriously, though, I haven’t taught you a thing. Yet here you are with all of the manners of a prince.”

He rubbed his whiskered chin. “That’s because I come from a very wealthy and prestigious Russian family.” He leaned in and whispered, “I was once quite skilled at the art of behaving civilized.”

“But Andrus Gray? That doesn’t sound Russian.”

“My mother, gods rest her soul, was from the Estonia region, her surname Andrus. Grebenshchikov was my father’s last name. I changed my last name after I became immortal in order to put a little distance between me and my family.” He shrugged. “I never thought about changing it back after they were gone, but I guess I should.”

Staring at this man, it began to sink in what it truly meant to have been alive as long as he had. Three hundred and thirty-two years. She wondered what the world looked like back then and how much he’d seen over what equated to four or five lifetimes. Then again, he’d spent most of it hunting and killing and it didn’t sound like he enjoyed it much.

Poor guy.
Someday, she’d ask him about it.

“Well,” she said, leaning in, “I am very impressed by your three-hundred-year-old manners. You still got it, baby.” She winked.

“Thank you.” He dipped his head of messy, man-sex-kitten hair. “Perhaps I’m not as rusty as I thought. To be frank, until I met you, I believed that part of me was—”

The waiter showed up with their wine, interrupting their very interesting conversation. She did the honors before the waiter filled their glasses.

The wine was perfect. “Good choice.” She lifted her glass to him. “So you were saying?”

“Perhaps this subject is best left for another day. Never is also good.”

“No. I want to know, Andrus.” She found everything about him fascinating.

He glanced over the table at her, clearly contemplating whether or not to share.

“I promise not to judge,” she said, using his own line.

He flashed a warm grin with those sinfully sexy lips. “Very well. I believed that side of me was dead.”

“Because you spent too long killing,” she leaned in to whisper, “vampires?”

“Yes and no. My life before I became what I am isn’t something I enjoy remembering. I had parents and a sister and we loved each other. Then one day, I met Reyna—my mate and a very cruel woman who used me. I forgot all about who I was and who I loved. I never said goodbye to anyone, and my family died never knowing what happened to me, the worse part being that I didn’t care. Then I became enslaved to the gods and the only things I cared about were my men, killing, and getting my freedom back.”

Jesus.
She couldn’t imagine living through that. Her family was her anchor, and being given some sort of mate-whammy to forget the people she loved would be like dying a slow death. At least on a subconscious level because she could never forget them.

“And now? How do you feel about your life as a free man?” she asked.

“I am beginning to see that caring for Matty and Helena were distractions from confronting my pain. Three hundred years of it.”

“Who are Helena and Matty?”

He sipped his wine in one gulp. “Helena is the woman I love—or did love—I don’t know anymore. But she is mated to the Executioner.”

Yikes.
“He sounds dreamy.”

“That is just his nickname. His real name is Niccolo DiConti. He was Reyna’s general. She was the queen of all vampires.”

“Holy crap. Really?”
And how strange. He named the dog after this guy.

“I cared for Niccolo’s mate, Helena, while he was away. I was there for the birth of their daughter and treated her as my own.”

Oh, wow.
“So Matty is the little girl in the photo you had in your duffle bag.”

He dipped his head and played with the base of his glass while staring at the pale golden-yellow liquid inside. “Yes. That is Matty. And there is nothing I won’t do for her.”

“So what happened?” she asked.

“Niccolo walked in on Helena and me hugging in the kitchen. She’d been crying because I told her I was going to leave. With Niccolo home again, there was no reason for me to stay. And with our temperaments, it was only a question of time before we went head to head. So I told her I loved her. And Matty. And that I would always be there for them. But when Niccolo walked in, he assumed the worst—that she and I were embracing as lovers.”

“Oh no. I’m guessing that didn’t go over so well.”
And that explains the dog’s name.

“No. Helena stepped in between us and told me to back off, that she’d explain to Niccolo, but then he said those magic words, and I couldn’t help myself. I swung over Helena’s head and knocked him across the room.”

“What did he say to set you off?”

“That a woman as good as Helena would never love a dishonorable man like me.”

Sadie reached out and touched his hand with the tip of her finger. “I’m so sorry, Andrus. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“I didn’t want it to end like that. I thought if I left before things got bad, I could still come back and visit every once in a while. Now, I will never be welcome in their home again.”

“Things could change, Andrus.”

“That is the downside about being immortal. The world changes, we do not—at least, not in a good way. The years embitter us, make us more stubborn and less forgiving. I looked after that man’s wife and child, and I behaved with honor. Yet, instead of thanking me, he accused me of trying to take his place. How does someone forgive that?”