Page 7

CELESTE

A fter sundown, I’d dressed in a slinky black dress with spaghetti straps, red heels, and a matching red scarf, and then headed down to the Nocturnal Lounge.

It was a dimly lit space with dark paneling and several seats stacked around small tables and a bar serving colorful cocktails in the back.

Fortunately, there was no sign of Lucien.

Although I was not a big fan of rock, I recognized “Sweet Caroline.” I ordered a blood-infused cocktail and found a seat along the side.

Van stood under the lights at the front of the stage, a charismatic front man gripping the microphone as he sang and encouraged the audience to join in—which they did with vigor.

His tousled blond hair was just messy enough to give him a rebellious edge, and my fingers itched to run through it.

A dark-haired vampire played to his left and a bearded shifter to his right.

A gray-skinned gargoyle pounded drums at the back of the stage.

They slowed it down a few songs later with the Police’s “Don’t Stand So Close to Me.

” Van practically vibrated with undeniable sensuality, his feline saunter on display as he swayed slowly with the song.

The way he moved in those tight leather pants didn’t hurt either.

His deep voice reverberated with sensuality as he slid his hand down the mic stand.

Why did that slow, minute gesture captivate me so, bringing all sorts of unexpected, sordid thoughts to mind?

His raw animal magnetism was difficult to ignore. He winked at me, and a playful grin spread across his face. My skin felt hot and tingly.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed Van’s appeal. The women who sat near the front leaned forward, their gazes locked on him like he was the last drop of water in a desert. A surprising jolt of something I hadn't felt in a long time shot through me—jealousy.

What in the bloodless moon was that about? I had no claim on him, nor he on me. I was only here tonight to continue a ruse so I could finally shake Lucien off my back. I relaxed in my chair and enjoyed the rest of the show.

After Van thanked the crowd and said goodnight, many women approached him.

He acknowledged them with smiles or polite small talk, but made his way over to me.

His scent filled my nostrils, an enticing mix of masculinity and his shifter blood.

I leaned closer, tempted by his scent. If he smelled this good, what would he taste like?

Showtime. It was time to act like a musician’s girlfriend to cast Lucien out of my life forever. Forcing myself to straighten, I noted, “You put on a good show, Mr. Tyrian.”

His smile widened as he appraised me, his nostrils flaring slightly.

“I liked seeing you out here tonight, Ms. Deveraux.” He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, leaving a tingle that vibrated with heat.

My fingers twitched, eager to rise up and stroke where his lips had just touched me, almost as if to see if he’d left an imprint.

He slung his arm around my shoulder. “Come on, darlin’. The night is young and the ship is ours.”

Darlin’ . The way he said it, like he had last night with a hint of a drawl, replayed in my head like a pleasant song. I liked it.

Van lowered his arm to take my hand as we strolled across the deck. His hand was so warm against my skin, so large and protective. What would it feel like tracing over my body?

Focus!

Some eyes turned our way. We must have looked like an odd fit—me in my black gown and red heels and him in his black leather pants, vibrant purple shirt, and silver-buckled black boots.

When we passed the casino, he turned to me and bent closer. “Want to try your luck?” The warmth of his breath fanned my ear.

“Sure.” I stepped inside and my senses were immediately pummeled by the blinking lights and clinking sounds of machines. A haze of expensive perfume, alcohol, and desperation made my nostrils curl. Van placed his hand on the small of my back, and a tingle danced down my spine.

Since the end of the show, he’d managed to keep his hand on me in some way. Sure, it was part of the boyfriend plan, but if he kept touching me this way…

As we ventured deeper into the casino, I turned partway to scan the options. That’s when I saw him. Lucien sat at a blackjack table. Of course. I should have known he’d be here. If he saw me, he’d likely try to convince me to give him more money to gamble away.

When I froze, Van asked, “Everything okay?”

My lips curled. “He’s here,” I muttered.

Van searched around. “Oh yes, I see him.” For the first time that night, the sultry edge to his voice was gone, replaced by something harder and more dangerous.

Lucien noticed us and straightened. Well, at least we’d made our appearance, and he’d seen me with Van.

“Let’s go.” I suggested.

Before he could come over and ruin my night, I turned and strode to the exit, wishing I’d worn flats instead of these heels that slowed me down.

Van’s hand on my lower back steadied me, providing reassurance that he’d capture me if I tripped.

Was he this way around every woman? Or was he putting it on for his role?

Whatever the reason, he had a manner about him that made my instincts sing—his wild and alluring nature creating a disturbance in my controlled composure.

“Where to?” he asked.

“I could use some air.”

We stepped outside onto the promenade area that circled the perimeter of this deck, and the salty fragrance of the sea reached my nostrils.

The breeze swept my hair up and around my head, and I had to tame it down.

Goose bumps prickled on my arms in response to the cold.

I instantly regretted not wearing something warmer over this dress.

The waves rolled out down below, small whitecaps churning beneath the moonlight.

After the cacophony of the casino, the calm out here was a balm to my senses.

“You look freezing.” Van placed his large hands on my shoulders and rubbed them vigorously down the sides of my arms.

“I am.” I leaned toward him, his shifter heat enticing me.

“I got you, darlin’,” he said and wrapped his arms around me.

Darlin’. I could get used to that. I rested my head on his chest. His heart beat against my cheek, the quick rhythm of it instantly stirring my hunger.

Fortunately, I’d fed already because my fangs itched for a taste of this young shifter’s blood, which tormented me with a wild thirst I hadn’t felt in over a century.

“You feel good,” he rumbled, a reverberation rolling through his chest. He inhaled. “And you smell amazing.”

I pulled my head up to glance at him, about to admit the same. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Lucien’s white-blond hair and straightened.

“He followed us,” I whispered.

Van turned to follow where I’d looked, but I raised my hand to his cheek, stopping him.

“Kiss me,” I urged.

His amber eyes widened with surprise as he stared down at me. Then he bent toward me and my eyes fluttered close. I rose to my tiptoes and brushed my lips against his.

Sudden sparks danced along my skin, warming me from within. Heat soared through my veins and pooled in my core. An undeniable connection bloomed between us, one that was almost magical.

How was this possible when this kiss was simply meant for show?