Chapter Thirty-Two
Charley had no idea how they’d managed to stop time, but somehow, they had.
And for an entire Saturday, she floated on the clouds, suspended in a bubble of happiness that not even Rudy’s irritating texts could pop.
Dorian spoiled her with breakfast in bed, followed by a long, languid hike through the woods. The day was bright and beautiful, no grays afoot in the sunshine, no traitor vampires lurking behind the trees.
They talked about the things they’d temporarily set aside last night—things they’d been setting aside for weeks. Dorian’s brother’s betrayal, the council meeting, the witch who’d come to Dorian’s aid. Charley told him more about her father and uncle, the jobs she’d worked, her unconventional childhood. She hadn’t yet told him about Rudy cutting her off, or her fears about losing her penthouse, but that was only because she knew he’d try to fix it for her, and she wasn’t quite ready for that conversation.
There was still so much she didn’t know about her vampire—about his family, about old rifts, about why Colin was spending all his time in the crypts. But all of that would come, she trusted, in time—all part of the slow, delicious dive of falling in love, getting to know each other bit by bit, story by story, dream by dream.
In every way, it’d been a perfect day. A perfect evening.
But at some point in the middle of the night, the warm, solid weight of Dorian’s body vanished from the bed and didn’t return.
In his place, she found only a note.
Gone for a midnight snack. Sleep tight—be back soon.
* * *
Charley paced the circular drive, waiting for the infuriating man to return. She didn’t want to text him—didn’t want to be that girl, but really? A midnight snack? With a full pantry and fridge, Dorian decided to just pop on over to the convenience store for some chips and salsa? No way. He was definitely up to something, and she wouldn’t rest until she figured out what.
After nearly an hour of incessant pacing, two sets of tell-tale headlights finally appeared in the drive.
Charley’s breath left her in a hot rush—relief, mostly, followed by supreme irritation.
You aresobusted, Redthorne.
She recognized Dorian’s BMW at once. Aiden’s Lexus SUV pulled in behind him, carrying an additional conspirator—a man she’d never seen before. When he exited the SUV, she got a better look—big and muscular, handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy sort of way. Despite the rough-around-the-edges exterior, he was dressed in a bespoke three-piece suit and carried some kind of gilded statue under his arm.
What the fuck?
“Charlotte? What are you doing awake?” Dorian stepped out of the BMW, forcing an innocent smile Charley could see right through. She knew that look. Sheinventedthat look.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” she said.
“You should wait inside, love.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, his mouth warm and soft in the chilly night. “It’s not safe out here at night.”
“Good evening, Miss D'Amico,” Aiden said, approaching with his mysterious friend. “How is Sasha?”
“She’s good—she’s in Vermont for the weekend. But she wanted me to tell you she’s still holding you to your promise. Shereallywants to learn how to play chess.”
Aiden grinned. “Next time you bring her round, it’s a date.”
“And who’s your guest?” Charley asked, smiling at the newcomer.
“You must be Charlotte.” The man returned her smile with a warm, genuine grin that immediately put her at ease. “Feel like I already know you, considering Red here can’t shut the fuck up about you for more than five seconds, pardon my French.” He reached out to shake her hand. “Cole Diamante.Charmed. That’s what you’re supposed to say when you’re wearing a suit like this, right Red?Charmed?”
Dorian grumbled something indecipherable under his breath, but Charley was too awestruck to ask him to repeat it.
“Cole Diamante,” she breathed, her smile stretching so wide it hurt her cheeks. “Oh my God. I’m ahugefan of your work. Not just your landscapes, but your portraits and still life—all of it. I’m… Wow. It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’m… I don’t even know what to say.”
Cole laughed. “Oh, I like her already, Red.”
“Yes, and apparently she likes you too.” Dorian wrapped a possessive arm around her shoulder. “Perhaps you can ask for his autograph, love. Better yet, a studio tour.”
“I’d rather see his lioness,Red,” she said, finally realizing what the man had been cradling in his arm.
