JК
The Harlequin :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 11 из 330He'd gone back to being manager there since he had enough vampires to help runthe other businesses. Of course, I didn't get Jean-Claude on the phone first thing. One of the employees answered and informed me that he was on stage. I told them I'd call back, and yes, it was important, so have him call me ASAP.
I hung up and stared at the phone. What was my sweetie doing while I sat in my office a few miles away? I pictured all that long dark hair, the pale perfection of his face, and I was thinking too hard. I could feel him. Feel the woman in his arms as she clung to him. He held her face between his hands to keep the kiss from getting out of hand, to keep her from shredding her own lips against the sharp points of his fangs. I felt her eagerness. Saw inside her mind, that she wanted him to take her here and now on the stage in front of everyone. She didn't care; she just wanted him.
Jean-Claude fed on that desire, that need. He fed on it, as other vampires fed on blood. Half-naked waiters came onto the stage to help pry her, gently, from him. They helped her back to her seat, while she cried, cried for what she could not have. She had paid for a kiss, and she'd gotten that, but Jean-Claude always left you wanting more. I should know.
He spoke like some seductive wind through my mind, « Ma petite , what are you doing here?»
«Thinking too hard,» I whispered to the empty office, but he heard me.
He smiled with at least two different types of lipstick smeared around his mouth. «You entered my mind while I fed the ardeur and it did not rise in you; you have been practicing.»
«Yeah.» It felt weird saying it out loud in the empty, dim office, especially because I could hear the hum and murmur of the club around him. The women clamoring to be next, waving their cash for him to choose them.
«I must choose a few more; then we may talk.»
«Use the phone,» I said. «I'm at the office.»
He laughed, and the sound echoed through me, shivered down my skin, made things low in my body tighten. I drew away from him, closed the metaphysical links between us enough so I wouldn't get sucked back into his act. Then I tried to think about something else, anything else. If I'd known enough about baseball, I'd have thought about that, but that wasn't my sport. Jean-Claude didn't strip, but he did feed off the crowd's sexual energy. In another century he'd have been called an incubus, a demon that fed on lust. The thought almost pulled me back to him, but I thought, Think about legal stuff, the law . Something.
I hung up and stared at the phone. What was my sweetie doing while I sat in my office a few miles away? I pictured all that long dark hair, the pale perfection of his face, and I was thinking too hard. I could feel him. Feel the woman in his arms as she clung to him. He held her face between his hands to keep the kiss from getting out of hand, to keep her from shredding her own lips against the sharp points of his fangs. I felt her eagerness. Saw inside her mind, that she wanted him to take her here and now on the stage in front of everyone. She didn't care; she just wanted him.
Jean-Claude fed on that desire, that need. He fed on it, as other vampires fed on blood. Half-naked waiters came onto the stage to help pry her, gently, from him. They helped her back to her seat, while she cried, cried for what she could not have. She had paid for a kiss, and she'd gotten that, but Jean-Claude always left you wanting more. I should know.
He spoke like some seductive wind through my mind, « Ma petite , what are you doing here?»
«Thinking too hard,» I whispered to the empty office, but he heard me.
He smiled with at least two different types of lipstick smeared around his mouth. «You entered my mind while I fed the ardeur and it did not rise in you; you have been practicing.»
«Yeah.» It felt weird saying it out loud in the empty, dim office, especially because I could hear the hum and murmur of the club around him. The women clamoring to be next, waving their cash for him to choose them.
«I must choose a few more; then we may talk.»
«Use the phone,» I said. «I'm at the office.»
He laughed, and the sound echoed through me, shivered down my skin, made things low in my body tighten. I drew away from him, closed the metaphysical links between us enough so I wouldn't get sucked back into his act. Then I tried to think about something else, anything else. If I'd known enough about baseball, I'd have thought about that, but that wasn't my sport. Jean-Claude didn't strip, but he did feed off the crowd's sexual energy. In another century he'd have been called an incubus, a demon that fed on lust. The thought almost pulled me back to him, but I thought, Think about legal stuff, the law . Something.