One Lucky Vampire

Seventeen

Nicole paced to the end of her studio and back, and then did it again . . . and again. She really didn’t know what else to do. She was angry, and restless and frustrated. She was mad because it seemed someone was out to kill her. While Jake had taken the brunt of the two attacks, no one knew he was here but his family, so she had to be the target. But she didn’t have a clue why anyone would want to kill her. Truthfully, Joey was the best suspect because he got the bulk of her estate if she died . . . and she was angry about that too. As mad as she wanted to be at Jake and his family for suspecting her brother, he was the most likely one . . . and she hated that too. Nicole didn’t want to suspect her brother. But the facts were he’d arrived in town the day the hot tub poisoning happened, after she’d told him she planned to take a dip in the hot tub later.

Was that just a coincidence? Or had he poisoned the hot tub before leaving that night? He might have already planned to poison the hot tub and had the poison with him, or her mentioning planning to use it might have made him run into town when he left here, purchase whatever poisons it was that had been used, and drive back, park up the road and walk to the house in the dark to dump the poison in. There were no streetlights out here and the houses were a good distance apart; each sat on a plot of land of at least two acres. No one would have noticed him.

As for the car, Nicole hadn’t mentioned it to Jake, but Joey was pretty handy with cars. He’d bought and restored old ones since he was a teenager. He could have tampered with her SUV.

Sighing, Nicole dropped onto her daybed/couch and closed her eyes briefly. She could hardly be angry at Jake and his family for suspecting her brother when she suspected him too. And she wasn’t really angry at them. She was just angry in general, or maybe angry at herself. What was it about her that the men who were supposed to love her, treated her so shabbily? Her husband had professed to love her and then had abused her and screwed her royally financially, and now her brother, who she had always been sure loved her, might be trying to kill her for a couple bucks.

Was it something about her that made them react this way? And what if that something eventually made Jake come to loathe her or think her only value was the money she made and he turned on her like her husband and brother?

That was where her true upset lie. Or at least half of it, Nicole corrected, because losing her brother to greed and attempted murder would hurt terribly. But she suspected Jake going the same way would hurt more, and what did that say about her? It would upset her more if Jake, a man she’d only met a week or so ago now, turned on her than the fact that her brother may have.

Elaine had said she could read her mind, see through the subterfuge and knew she loved Jake. Nicole was beginning to think the woman was right. She did love the man despite the short time since she’d met him . . . and she didn’t like having these ill feelings between them, but she’d caused them and, therefore, she was the one who needed to apologize for getting so upset about his suspecting her brother when she did too.

Cursing, Nicole stood and headed out of the studio. The house was silent as she walked through it, and a glance out the windows that wrapped around the front stairway showed that the only vehicle left in her driveway was Jake’s. It looked like everyone else had left. Including the twins.

The knowledge made her pause on the stairs. They were alone . . . completely and utterly alone. If they were alone, then they could—

Geez. Nicole interrupted her own thoughts with disgust. She finds out they’re alone and her thoughts immediately turn to sex. These nanos of theirs were powerful mojo. She was acting like a heroin addict or something, and Jake was the drug. But she needed to stop that. She owed Jake an apology before she could even consider such things.

Nicole heard that lecture from her own brain, but her body was still reacting to the thought of being alone with Jake and the things they could do . . . all over the house. Honestly, Nicole didn’t know how many times over the years she’d heard women claim that most men thought with their genitalia, but that affliction obviously wasn’t restricted purely to men. Her brain appeared to have dropped into her panties since meeting Jake.

On the other hand, a part of Nicole’s mind argued, there was nothing that said she couldn’t look nice to apologize. She could put on one of the skirts he’d helped her pick out . . . maybe the short black one that had made his eyes glow silver; pair it with a white blouse and high heels . . . maybe skip the panties. They wouldn’t even have to take their clothes off if she did that . . . and then, if they did indulge somewhere other than the bedroom, and someone came home, they could just straighten their clothes and smile innocently. Well, if they weren’t unconscious on the floor, she thought wryly, and continued up the stairs.

Much to her relief, Nicole didn’t run into Jake as she crossed the loft to the master bedroom. She thought she caught a glimpse of him in the kitchen as she scooted past, but he didn’t spot her and come out before she reached and slipped into her room. Nicole eased the door closed to prevent giving away her presence, and then slipped into her walk-in closet.

Nicole had only taken two steps into the long room when she recalled that they’d had the accident after shopping. She had no idea what had happened to her bags, but didn’t see any sign of them in her closet.

Nicole walked back out to her bedroom to check and be sure they hadn’t been set there, but there was no sign of them there either. It was possible they were still in the SUV . . . or that they’d been ruined in the crash and tossed out. There had been blood everywhere from Jake’s injury.

Nicole had been unconscious and hadn’t seen Jake get hurt, or how bad it had looked right afterward, but from what she’d been told and the amount of blood on her own clothes, little if any of it from her head wound, the man had lost most of his blood in the accident. A mortal would have died, she was sure. Thank God he wasn’t mortal. It would have been a tragedy to lose such a smart, vital, sexy man.

Sighing, Nicole returned to her closet, to search it, hoping she had something pretty and or sexy that would do. But she didn’t hold out much hope of finding anything like that. She’d deliberately tossed out everything she’d owned that was even close to sexy when she’d left Rodolfo and sworn off men. Still, she looked.

Nicole started with the hanging clothes and finished with the built-in drawers. She’d only intended on searching the built-in set on the left, which was her side. When that turned up nothing, she started to head out of the closet, thinking she was just plain out of luck. But then Nicole suddenly stopped and peered at the other set of drawers. Rodolfo had always used them, and she hadn’t even looked in them since returning.

They were probably empty, she thought, but searched them anyway. The top three wide drawers were empty as she’d expected, but the bottom drawer wasn’t. Kneeling on the carpet between the two drawer sets, which were built into the opposite walls and faced each other, she began to sort through the contents with curiosity. There was a hand-knitted afghan that her grandmother, her mother’s mother, had knitted for her before dying. It was old and a bit ratty, but Nicole had kept it for sentimental reasons and then apparently left it behind when she’d moved out so abruptly. But then, she’d moved out in a rush, eager to get out from under Rodolfo’s glowering gaze.

Nicole was surprised Rodolfo hadn’t thrown it out on her. She would have been upset when she realized she couldn’t find it and he seemed to like to upset her. She folded the afghan neatly and set it aside, and then stared at the boots that had been covered by it. Her eyes widened as she recognized them, thigh-high black boots that were nothing but crisscrossed lacings in the front and had six inch heels. They’d had matching gloves and a top that was mostly crisscrossed lacing in the middle front from almost nipple to nipple as well. The “top” had ended just above the belly button, except for two tails that ran down over the center of the front of each leg and attached to the thigh high boots by snaps attached at the end, turning them into garters of a sort.

Nicole had bought it for her and Rodolfo’s first Halloween together with no intention of wearing it anywhere but the bedroom. As she recalled, she’d felt super sexy in it too when she’d tried it on. She’d intended to greet Rodolfo at the door in it on Halloween. Unfortunately, they’d had a big fight when she’d got up that day. Rodolfo had taken off in a snit and hadn’t returned until the next day. The costume had never got worn.

Maybe that was fortunate, Nicole thought as she lifted out one of the boots and found the costume itself tangled in with the lacings. The gloves were caught up in the other boot. Which meant the only thing missing were the tiny black panties. But she had black panties, Nicole thought, and bit her lip, wondering if she had the courage to wear it for Jake.

If she did, she probably wouldn’t have to apologize, Nicole thought with amusement. She glanced back to the drawer as she set the second boot on the floor and smiled when she spotted the fedora that went with the costume at the back of the drawer. The fact that it was all here and that Rodolfo hadn’t tossed it seemed to her to be a sign that she should wear it. Not that she’d probably wear it long.

Gathering the costume’s bits, Nicole stood, retrieved a fresh pair of black panties from her top drawer, then carried everything out to the en suite bathroom. She managed to take a quick shower without getting her hair wet, thanks to a shower cap, and then she dusted herself with baby powder and slipped into the costume.

One look at herself in the mirror and Nicole nearly chickened out. Geez, the costume didn’t hide much, and she appeared to have a lot of flesh to show. She shifted briefly, torn, and then muttered “screw it,” straightened her shoulders, and headed out of her room.

Nicole spotted Jake disappearing into the kitchen as she opened her door, and was glad she hadn’t come out sooner. She would have felt stupid standing around in the kitchen waiting for him, and she definitely wouldn’t have wanted to search the house for him in case the twins or one of his other family members returned and caught her like this.

That thought made her realize that her original plan was not going to work here. She would have to walk into the kitchen, smile and then hurry back to the bedroom, hopefully, with him following. There was no way that straightening this outfit and offering an innocent smile would convince anyone she wasn’t up to anything. One look at her and they’d know what they’d been up to, or at least what she’d planned.

“Who are you?”

Nicole had been approaching the kitchen door, but paused before reaching it when she heard Jake ask that question.

It was quickly followed by, “Did Nicole let you in?”

“No.”

“Then how—” Jake cut himself off and said, “The sliding glass doors.”

“Yes. It was kind of you to leave them open for me.”

Nicole frowned at the tone of voice, it was mocking and amused.

Moving close to the wall, she eased the last few feet to the kitchen doorway and snuck a quick peak into the room. Jake was standing a couple of feet inside the kitchen, with his back to her. The other man sat at the kitchen table, lounging sideways to the door in one chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles on another. She could see that he wore jeans, and a leather bomber over a T-shirt. His body looked completely relaxed. She couldn’t say what his expression was, though, Jake’s body blocked his head from her view.

“It wasn’t for you,” Jake said grimly. “It was to air out the room.”

“Still,” the man said, and though Nicole couldn’t see him, she was pretty sure he was grinning as he added, “I appreciate it.”

Nicole eased back out of sight of the kitchen. She didn’t think the man could see her, but if Jake had moved just the smallest amount to the right he would have.

Shifting anxiously from foot to foot, she debated what to do. It seemed obvious to her that the man in the kitchen must be the one behind the hot-tub poisoning and the car accident. Nice, normal people simply didn’t saunter into just any open door in homes that weren’t theirs. What she didn’t understand was why Jake was asking questions instead of taking control of the man’s mind.

The obvious answer was that he couldn’t, and as far as she knew, that only happened with life mates or older immortals. Had an immortal been trying to kill her? And if so, why? For heaven’s sake, she hadn’t even known about immortals until this last week, and was pretty sure she hadn’t met any besides Marguerite and this crew.

“Who are you?” Jake’s voice sounded grim.

“You asked that already,” the other man pointed out lightly.

Nicole turned and slid back along the wall to her room. She had to help Jake, but how? She glanced to the sliding doors in her room. They led out to the deck, which wrapped around the back of the house and up the side to the sliding doors in the kitchen. If the doors were still open—

Nicole started toward the doors, but then paused before stepping out. She needed a weapon. Turning, she glanced around the bedroom, looking for something hefty, but it was a bedroom, for heaven’s sake, not a weapons locker. Her gaze slid from the bed to the television to the couch. There was nothing she could see that would be useful. There weren’t even any lamps in the room; wall sconces were set into the walls on either side of the couch, as well as the bed, to remove the necessity of lamps.

Her mouth tightened with annoyance and then her gaze slid to the bed again and she eyed the pillows. They were rather special; quilted cloth on the outside with a water bladder inside. The user filled them with water to reach the firmness they desired. A couple quarts made a soft pillow, three quarts made it medium, and five quarts made it firm. Nicole liked hers firm. She had five quarts in hers. That was more than a gallon of water. It weighed a good ten pounds, she would guess.

Moving up the bed, Nicole grabbed one of them, and headed out of the room through the sliding glass doors.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

Jake’s eyes narrowed on the intruder’s wide unpleasant smile. His voice was deep and raspy, as if he spent a lot of time screaming at the top of his lungs. Jake had heard that voice before, but where didn’t come to him right away. It was recently though.

“You ruined everything. Stopped me from carrying out what I was put on this earth to do, and yet—barely a week later—you don’t even remember me,” the man said bitterly.

Jake eyed him warily. He’d been trying to get into the man’s thoughts to read and control him since entering the kitchen, but it was like trying to navigate the ocean in a fog with no compass or sonar . . . and there were monsters coming out of that fog, accompanied by agonized shrieks. The man wasn’t in his right mind. That was the only explanation. Jake had always heard that it was hard to the point of impossible for an immortal to read or control a crazy person. Now he understood why.

Jake opened his mouth to admit that, no, he didn’t recognize him, when he suddenly did.

“Ball-Cap Boy,” he murmured, recognizing him as the man who had intended to shoot the client he was suppose to protect, and who he’d tackled his last night on the job before meeting Marguerite for dinner. Tilting his head, he asked, “Why aren’t you in jail?”

Ball-Cap Boy gave a short laugh. “For what? I didn’t get the chance to do anything. All they could charge me with was the improper transportation of a registered weapon.”

“Registered?” Jake asked with a frown.

“Yes. You see, there’s a law that if you work in a remote wilderness area, where your life can be under threat by wild animals, you can get a special license to carry weapons, like rifles and handguns.”

“And you have one of those special licenses,” Jake guessed dryly. He now understood the old saying “crazy like a fox.” The bastard might be nuts, but he was smart too.

“Yes, sir, I do,” he said with a grin so wide it was almost painful to see. “That and a family with the resources to hire an excellent lawyer who is quick and very good. I was out within hours.”

Jake was really beginning to dislike this guy’s smile.

“Of course, it helped that the security tape showed you moving toward me before I even reached to adjust my gun so it was no longer digging into my ribs.” He smiled and offered, “Well, at least that’s what I told them I was doing.”

Jake didn’t respond to the comment. He was trying to decide what to do. The man had had a gun before and probably did now, no doubt tucked into the arms he presently had crossed. Jake wasn’t too concerned about being shot dead, that wasn’t a worry unless Ball-Cap Boy blew his head completely off, which would take a sawed-off shotgun or an equally powerful weapon, he was sure, and this man couldn’t be hiding one of those on his person. Jake suspected he had his handgun though, and while that wouldn’t blow his head off, it could incapacitate him temporarily and leave Nicole alone in the house and at the mercy of this nut. He didn’t want to risk that, so had to move carefully.

“It also helped that I told them that I’d run into you before,” Ball-Cap Boy continued conversationally. “When I was out on a date with your live-in girlfriend.” He grinned widely. “And that you’ve had it in for me ever since.”

Jake didn’t react on the outside, but inside he was mentally kicking himself. He often had dealings with the police on the job, and knew a good number of them by name. However, busy feeling sorry for himself as he’d been, and thinking himself a monster, Jake hadn’t encouraged any friendships since leaving California. So, while many of the officers had given some personal details about their lives in an offer of friendship, mentioning wives, girlfriends, or kids, Jake hadn’t responded in kind. As Dan had said in the elevator the day they’d encountered this man, he didn’t know a thing about him and had thought him without family. It would be the same with the police. Had he bothered to befriend the men he worked with and encountered on the job, they’d have known this man was lying about a live-in and hesitated to let him go to cause trouble again.

“How did you find me here?” Jake asked abruptly, turning his attention to the situation at hand. Self-flagellation was really a waste of time and useless in a situation like this. He could kick himself later.

“The angels led me to you.”

Jake was aware that his eyelids flickered at this claim, but all he said was, “Oh?”

“Hmmm.” The man nodded. “My lawyer wanted to talk after he got me released. He took me to a bar downtown and sat trying to convince me to let my parents help me, which translates to locking me up,” he added bitterly and began to rant. “They don’t believe the angels talk to me through the radio and that I have a purpose in this life. They think I’m crazy, that I’ve spent too much time alone up north and it’s affected me. That I need to take those stupid pills the doctor gave me again. But I’ll show them. They’ll understand when I carry out the charge I’ve been given. You screwed up the first service I was supposed to perform to make this a better world, and for a minute my faith was shaken. How could God allow that when I was doing his work? But when I saw you coming out of that restaurant across the street with that brunette, I knew the angels had led me there. I understood that the devil would, of course, not want me to carry out my mission, and that you and everyone you associate with are in league with him.”

Crazy as a loon, Jake thought grimly, but knew the brunette that Ball-Cap Boy had seen him with was Marguerite, when they’d left the restaurant where they’d dined together.

“So you followed us,” Jake guessed. It was the only explanation.

Ball-Cap Boy nodded. “I left the lawyer with his mouth wide open and followed you. I had to hire a taxi to do it.” He smiled. “I told the taxi driver the brunette was my wife and the two of you were having an affair. He was very sympathetic. It seems his wife ‘stepped out’ on him, as he put it.” He shrugged. “We followed you to that car rental place and while she was returning her car, I rented one, and then I followed you back here.”

“And poisoned the hot tub?” Jake asked, and then said with certainty, “No, not then. You didn’t have the poison with you in the rental car.”

“No,” he agreed. “But I saw the hot tub that night. Disgusting things,” he added with a shudder. “Only whores and whoresons use those. Poisoning it was the only thing to do.”

Jake frowned. He was recalling his first night here when he’d arrived with Marguerite. The door had been unlocked when they’d arrived, he recalled. They’d locked it, and then when he’d checked later it was unlocked again.

“You followed us here, you weren’t here before us?” he asked, despite knowing he couldn’t have been.

Ball-Cap Boy looked at Jake as if he were the one who was crazy. “I told you I followed you. The angels led me to you, they don’t give out addresses.”

Jake didn’t react to that, his thoughts were on the fact that the door had been unlocked when they’d arrived. Nicole had claimed she’d locked it behind Marguerite when she’d left, but it had been unlocked when they’d arrived. The only answer was either Nicole had only thought she’d locked it, or she’d locked it and then unintentionally unlocked it when she’d turned the key back to take it out of the lock. But he knew Marguerite had locked it when they’d entered. He’d even checked it himself afterward. Yet it had been unlocked again later.

“You were in the house,” he said with certainty.

“The studio door was cracked open.”

Jake frowned. Marguerite had searched the main floor while he took the upper when their calls hadn’t drawn Nicole out. Marguerite must have just stuck her head into the studio, or maybe she even just glanced through the French doors. Whichever the case, she hadn’t noticed the sliding glass doors being open.

“I was really impressed with the girl’s paintings,” Ball-Cap Boy said now, surprise in his voice. “I expected them to be orgy scenes and such, but they were well-done portraits. Of course, I realized then that the angels had left the door open for me so I could see my next targets. Obviously, a servant of Satan would only paint other minions of hell.”

“Christ,” Jake muttered, thinking of the portrait of Christian and Caro. The man was saying they were now a target too, along with the actress and the politician.

“Don’t you dare utter Christ’s name in vain,” Ball-Cap Boy barked, suddenly on his feet, the gun Jake had been sure he had in view and pointing straight at him. Ball-Cap Boy had held it tucked between his arms and body, hidden until he was ready to reveal it, which was exactly what Jake had suspected.

He eyed the weapon warily, very aware that Nicole, as one of Satan’s minions, was also a target now. He definitely couldn’t afford to be incapacitated, even for moments. Trying to turn the man’s thoughts from his anger and get answers at the same time, Jake asked, “Did the angels lead you out of the house through the front door?”

Ball-Cap Boy looked at him with disgust. “Don’t be ridiculous. I decided to go that way myself after the brunette went upstairs and I’d searched the main floor. It was closer and easier than marching through the snow.”

“Right,” Jake murmured, but at least he knew how the door had got unlocked after Marguerite locked it. “And you tried to run over Nicole in the Canadian Tire parking lot?”

He shrugged. “She’s in league with you.”

Jake nodded grimly. “And you messed with the SUV’s brakes and accelerator?”

“Well, I would have just shot you, but the police are still suspicious of me, and you aren’t my primary target. I can’t get caught until I complete my mission and kill all the politicians in the world.”

Jake’s mouth twitched. As missions went, he couldn’t really say that was a bad one. Jake wasn’t big on politicians. Politics seemed to be peopled with greedy, larcenous, uncaring morons who couldn’t run a corner store let alone a country. Geez, there were at least two mayors of major cities in just this province right now who were in hot water. One was accused of using government funds for the wedding of one of his children, the other of using his position to strong-arm funds for some pet charity of his or something. Charity was good, but using such tactics to get money for it made people think maybe he was getting a percentage of the donations. Why else risk your job?

“Unfortunately, you are turning out to be difficult to kill,” Ball-Cap Boy said with a perplexed frown. “I mean, I wouldn’t expect the devil to make it easy, but I don’t know how you managed to survive the hot tub. I saw you get in, and thought for sure I’d succeeded when you started vomiting blood. I went away thinking I’d come back in a day or so to take care of the girl, but when I returned you were on your feet and those two behemoths were here.”

“So you followed us to the mall and messed with the SUV while we were inside shopping,” Jake said.

“Yes.” He scowled. “But you survived that too.”

Jake wondered if the guy expected him to apologize or something, and then movement behind Ball-Cap Boy drew his gaze to the sliding glass doors and the woman easing into view on the deck outside. For a moment, he was so distracted by the outfit that he didn’t look at the face. Cripes, talk about a sex trap. The only cover the outfit offered was scraps of almost see-through black material over the three most important bits. They appeared to be held in place by crisscrossing straps or lacing . . . and were those thigh-high boots? There wasn’t enough material in them to put together to make a proper shoe. But then there wasn’t enough material in the whole outfit to make anything decent. Who the hell—?

His gaze slid upward, finding a fedora perched at a jaunty angle on long, wavy blond hair and then he focused on the face. Nicole! Jake suspected his heart stopped at that moment and he would never know how he managed to control his expression and keep his jaw from dropping to thud on the floor. She looked fricking amazing, hot as hell, sexy as sin . . . and boy was Ball-Cap Boy gonna want to kill her for that outfit. He could imagine him shrieking Jezebel! and shooting her full of holes. This was not good, not good at all.

“So I thought a personal approach was called for,” Ball-Cap Boy announced.

Realizing he was staring and likely to draw the man’s attention to Nicole, Jake shifted his gaze quickly back to the man as he waved his gun around. He opened his mouth to say something clever, but all that came out was, “Er . . .”

It was the best Jake could come up with, and, really, he thought that was pretty good considering his penis was reacting to Nicole’s outfit by trying to form a pup tent in his pants. Jeans are much more resistant to such things than jogging pants, he noted, shifting uncomfortably as his gaze skittered back to Nicole. She had slid through the door and was now raising something she’d been carrying at her side, something big and white and—a pillow.

Seriously? Jake thought with amazement. This wasn’t a pillow fight. What kind of person brought a pillow to a gunfight? Cripes, she was dressed for a pillow fight too . . . well, a sexy pillow fight that ended in toppling her onto the bed, ripping her panties off and thrusting—

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Ball-Cap Boy asked suddenly, distracting him from his less than helpful thoughts. “You’re panting and your eyes look funny. Are they glowing?” he asked with a frown, taking a step closer.

“I’m possessed,” Jake blurted out on inspiration. That inspiration being that he mostly felt possessed . . . by his penis. It seemed to have a mind of its own and didn’t particularly care what kind of situation he was in. It wanted Nicole bad, and seemed to be trying to force its way through his jeans in her direction.

“Possessed,” Ball-Cap Boy looked alarmed. “But—”

“I didn’t want to stop you, the demon possessing me did,” Jake added, his gaze skittering from Ball-Cap Boy to Nicole and back. She was only a step behind the man now, and was raising her pillow as if she planned to smack him with it. Was she CRAZY? he wondered, and gave his head a small shake, trying to tell her with the gesture not to do it. You didn’t piss off the man with the gun and that was the only thing hitting him with the pillow was going to do. Dear God, when this was over, he was going to have a stern talk with her about self-defense tactics.

“Possessed,” the man said and frowned uncertainly, obviously not sure what to do now. “What—?”

The word ended on a surprised “oomph” as Nicole wielded her pillow. Much to Jake’s surprise it seemed to pack quite a wallop. She must have stuffed it with rocks or something, he thought as he watched in amazement as Ball-Cap Boy flew sideways under the blow, crashed into and bounced off the table, then slammed his head on the island counter as he stumbled and fell forward.

“I did it!” Nicole squealed, jumping up and down in her ridiculously sexy heels, the heavy pillow held aloft. “I saved you.”

Jake rushed forward now, kicking the gun away from Ball-Cap Boy’s body, and sparing a moment to be sure he was unconscious. He then turned to catch Nicole in his arms mid-jump and planted his mouth on hers.

She immediately collapsed against him. Her arms slid around his shoulders even as he heard the pillow hit the floor with a loud thud and slosh that made him wonder what the hell was in it. When she opened her mouth to his with a moan, Jake stopped caring about the pillow or anything else and lifted her off the floor with his arms around her waist and started to turn, intending to carry her to the bedroom and do exactly what he’d thought of doing moments ago.

Some very small part of Jake’s brain knew he shouldn’t, that he should deal with Ball-Cap Boy first, but it was a very small part. There wasn’t much blood left in his brain right now. It had all raced south to fill his still-growing erection. Cripes, if he didn’t find release soon he was pretty sure his erection would explode like an overfull balloon. Pop, no more penis, he thought.

“Don’t worry, we’ll handle things here.”

Jake paused and frowned against Nicole’s mouth at that dry announcement. Fortunately, he had enough blood left in his brain to tell him he should stop and see who the hell was yipping at him. Breaking their kiss, he turned with Nicole still held off the ground and peered blankly at Dante and Tomasso.

“How’d you get here?” he asked with surprise.

“A car,” Tomasso said drolly.

Dante gave a laugh, but explained, “We pulled up just as Nicole was slipping into the kitchen. Seeing her getup, we almost backed out to give you some privacy, but then Tomasso spotted this guy”—he gestured to the unconscious man on the floor—“through the kitchen window.”

“And his gun,” Tomasso added.

Dante nodded. “So we thought we’d best come see what we could do.”

“Only she handled it while we were crossing the deck,” Tomasso added, and then smiled at Nicole and said, “Nice pillow work.”

“Yeah,” Dante agreed. “What do you have in that thing? Rocks? It sure knocked him for a loop.”

“Water,” Nicole said, blushing, but didn’t get to explain further. Jake didn’t give her the chance to. He was turning away with her again, and continuing out of the kitchen.

“Hey,” Dante called. “Who is this guy? Is he the one who poisoned the hot tub and messed with the SUV?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know who he is,” Jake answered, not slowing. “Never got his name. He’s just a lunatic who tried to kill one of my clients at work. He thinks angels talk to him and he’s supposed to kill politicians and pretty much everyone I know because I stopped him, so we must all be in league with the devil.”

“Hmm,” Dante said directly behind him and Jake set Nicole down to sit on the side of the bed, then propped his hands on hips and turned to scowl at the man for following them.

“Nicole and I need to talk,” Jake said firmly. “Go deal with sicko in the kitchen.”

“It’s not talking you’re thinking of doing,” Dante said dryly, his gaze sliding to Nicole and a smile curving his lips as he admitted, “And I don’t blame you. Nice outfit, Nicki,” he complimented.

“Thanks,” she murmured, blushing.

Dante turned his attention back to Jake. “But talking is what you should be doing.”

Jake stiffened at the solemn words. “Why? About what?”

“About your situation and whether she’s willing to be your life mate,” Dante said calmly, and then pointed out, “Lucian will want this whole situation settled at the same time rather than sending people out to do a three on one on sicko in the kitchen, and then possibly having to return to do the same for Nicole if she isn’t willing to be turned.”

“Lucian has nothing to do with this,” Jake said stiffly. “Ball-Cap Boy is a mortal.”

“But his target wasn’t,” Dante pointed out. “Or should I say targets?”

Jake almost asked how he knew that, but then realized the man had read his mind while following him in here. He probably knew everything Jake had seen and heard since finding Ball-Cap Boy in the kitchen. So he knew the man wanted to wipe out him, Nicole, and every other person he’d seen enter this house, most of whom were immortals.

“He’s sick,” Dante said quietly. “His family know that and haven’t done a damned thing about it, but hire lawyers to keep him out of trouble and on the streets. They’ll do the same this time and then he’ll be a threat again, not just to you and Nicole, but to us, your parents, Neil, Marguerite, Christian and Caro, Tybo—”

“Basically everyone who he’s seen me with,” Jake interrupted wearily.

Dante nodded silently.

“Right,” Jake said stiffly. “I guess I’d better talk with Nicole then. Would you like to leave so I can do it?”

Dante turned away and headed out of the room for answer.

Jake followed him to the door and pulled it closed, then took a deep breath and turned to face Nicole. One glance at her on the bed in that getup though, and he whirled to face the door again. Damn! How the hell was he supposed to just talk to her with her looking like that?

“Honey, can you maybe get out of that outfit or pull on a robe so we can talk?” he asked in a pained tone. He really didn’t want her out of it, he wanted to make love to her while she wore it . . . well, minus the panties. He’d like to rip those off of her . . . maybe with his teeth.

Jake heard Nicole moving around behind him, some rustling, and then she said, “Okay.”

Letting out a breath, Jake turned to look at her and felt his knees go weak. She’d taken off the fedora and pulled on a short black silk robe that didn’t cover a damned thing in the pose she’d assumed. She was reclining on the bed, one leg bent, the other flat out, resting on her elbows, her hair and the robe hanging down to gather on the bed and cover absolutely nothing.

“Nicole, please,” he pleaded weakly. “We have to talk.”

“Yes,” she said and he blinked in confusion.

“Yes, what?” he asked uncertainly.

“To whatever you want to ask me,” Nicole responded at once.

Jake hesitated and then said, “I want to ask if you’d be willing to at least consider being my life mate.”

“Yes,” she repeated.

Jake frowned. “You will?”

Now she looked uncertain. “Am I not supposed to say yes? Did you want me to say no?”

“No, of course not,” he said at once. “But . . . don’t you want some time to think about it?”

Sighing with exasperation, Nicole sat up and scooted to the end of the bed, the robe trailing out behind her. “Jake, I just took on a gun-toting sicko with nothing but a pillow to save your life. I’m pretty sure that means my feelings for you are pretty strong.”

She tilted her head and smiled crookedly. “You’re smart, I respect you, and . . .” Nicole hesitated and then confessed, “That day in the SUV when the brakes went out, all I kept thinking was, “Thank God it’s Jake at the wheel.” She eyed him solemnly. “I trust you with my life. I’m pretty sure I love you. But more importantly, I like you.”

“That’s more important than love?” he asked with amusement.

Nicole nodded solemnly. “I have relatives I love, but don’t much respect or like. I couldn’t live with them if my life depended on it. But I like and respect you. I enjoy your company and I can imagine a future with you.”

Jake simply stared at her in the silence that followed. His heart had felt like it expanded with every word she’d spoken and now it felt so swollen it ached. She liked and respected him. The way she explained it, that was the best thing in the world.

When Nicole stood up suddenly, looking uncertain, and muttered something unintelligible as she turned toward the bathroom, Jake realized he’d been silent too long.

“I like you too,” he blurted, catching her arm to stop her leaving.

Nicole hesitated and then turned slowly back, eyes still uncertain. “Really?”

“Oh, yes, really,” Jake assured her, pulling her against his chest so he could wrap his arms around her and hold her close. “I love your talent, your brain, your sense of humor, your body”—his hands began to move over her back and bottom as he continued—“your passion”—he slid the robe off her shoulders, leaving her in only the sexy outfit and urged her back to get a better look as he added, “your taste in clothes. Cripes, this is the sexiest damned thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I wanted to apologize for getting short with you about suspecting my brother. He was the best suspect,” she admitted.

“But not the culprit,” Jake pointed out dryly and then ran his finger lightly down the lacing on the front of the top, brushing along the curve of one breast between each narrow strip of black leather that held the nearly see-through scraps of the top together. “And if this is your idea of an apology, it’s a damned fine one and I love that about you too.”

Nicole gave a breathless laugh and shivered under his touch, her nipples hardening under the thin cloth. The sight of it made his mouth water, but he asked, “Are you sure you’re willing to be my life mate?”

She nodded, and said breathlessly, “If it means you’ll make me feel like this for the next century or two, then definitely.”

When Jake paused and frowned with concern at the answer, Nicole sighed, and raised her hands to frame his face, saying solemnly, “Jake, I have never been good at choosing men. My husband and every guy I’ve dated have been jerks. But your mother assures me that the nanos never make mistakes, and that you’re a good man. Maybe it’s just because I want to, but I believe her and that makes me feel for the first time in my life that my instincts are right and we’ll work. That my love has been given to the right man this time. So . . .” She kissed him lightly on the lips. “Yes, I’m sure I want to be your life mate.”

“You know it means becoming one of us?” Jake added solemnly.

Nicole glanced up, the first flicker of uncertainty crossing her face, and making him hold his breath, but then she straightened her shoulders and nodded.

Relief rushing through him, Jake picked her up by the waist and tossed her on the bed.

Nicole landed with a squeal and a bounce, and then pushed herself up to watch him rip off his T-shirt and jeans with more haste than grace. He couldn’t get them off quick enough. They’d had their talk, she’d agreed, and now he fully intended on accepting her apology and making love to her until she couldn’t stand up straight. Well, okay, until they both passed out, which ought to be about two or three seconds. Jake didn’t think he’d last much longer than that at this point, and could only be grateful that the nanos would ensure she experienced the same pleasure he did.

“Will it hurt?”

Jake was hopping on one foot, tugging off a sock when Nicole asked that with trepidation. Straightening, the sock in hand, he peered at her uncertainly, and then his brain cleared. With his thoughts on making love to her, he’d thought she was asking if sex would hurt. But they’d had sex before. It was the turning she was talking about, he realized.

Jake hesitated, thinking back to his own turning. He’d been stabbed in the chest, which had hurt like crazy, and then had passed out and woken up several days later feeling like he’d been left out in the desert sun for days. He’d been incredibly thirsty, but pain free as he recalled.

“I don’t think so,” he said finally, hopping on his bare foot to remove the other sock now. “But we’ll check with someone.”

Nicole nodded absently. Her gaze had shifted to his groin, her eyes widening at the sight of him.

Jake finished pulling off the second sock, tossed it aside and stepped forward to crawl onto the bed, his hands and knees on either side of her body as he moved up the bed until he was directly over her. Looking down into her precious face, he said solemnly, “Nicole, I promise that no matter what happens, I’ll never hurt you like Rodolfo did.”

“Rodolfo who?”

Jake blinked in surprise and peered into her eyes, relaxing when he saw the laughter there. He opened his mouth, but whatever he’d been going to say, died on a hiss as her hand closed around his erection.

“Jake?” she whispered.

“Yes?” he got out through ground teeth as her hand moved over him.

“Please, shut up and make love to me now.”

“God I love you,” he growled and lowered his mouth to claim hers even as he shifted out of her hold to claim her body. He did love this woman, Jake acknowledged as Nicole moaned and arched into his thrusts. The grim future he’d envisioned since waking up to find himself an immortal suddenly rolled out before him a much brighter, happier one . . . and much longer too.

In fact, it seemed now like his being stabbed had been a gift. Jake never would have been turned by Vincent, and then wouldn’t have run away and met Nicole without it. He’d have worked out his sunset years as the daytime VP at V.A. Inc., a bitter old mortal, resenting everyone around him. But now? Now he had Nicole, and she was everything he could have ever wanted. The future looked bright, and he was one hell of a lucky vampire.