Page 9 of Isabelle’s Forbidden Love

Isabelle took a sip from her drink and turned around to look toward the dance floor and the high tables that lined its perimeter. Damian and Naomi were gone. Maybe they’d withdrawn to the privacy of Damian’s office or had gone home.

A young man, a vampire as indicated by his aura, an aura that only other preternatural creatures could perceive, made a beeline for her. She ran her eyes over him. She’d never seen him before. Maybe he was visiting family or friends in San Francisco. After all, San Francisco had a large vampire population. He looked to be in his thirties, tall and quite attractive. He had an easy smile and, she was certain, a snazzy pickup line he would try out on her any moment now.

And maybe, just maybe, she would give him a few minutes of her time to see if he was worth it. What was the harm in trying? She couldn’t keep herself on the shelf forever just because a certain vampire was too boneheaded to realize that she had the hots for him.

6

Orlando opened the door to the club and stepped into the foyer. There was no need to stay outside any longer. This close to closing time, rarely anybody asked for admittance. It was more important that he was available inside the club now, when it was time to make sure that the patrons who were too drunk for their own good made no trouble when being asked to leave. But that wasn’t really the reason why he’d left his post outside. He was hoping to catch another glimpse of Isabelle, though she’d probably left via the back exit. To avoid him.

And why wouldn’t she? He’d sounded like a nitwit when she’d tried to make polite conversation with him upon her arrival. And he hadn’t gotten more than three words out in her presence.

Same as always.

He might as well have been mute. But whenever he was near Isabelle, something scrambled his brain, and he was barely able to function. It was a wonder that he wasn’t drooling. Eighteen months ago, when he’d first met Isabelle, he’d still managed to keep himself in check. But ever since he’d gotten injured when he’d helped find Samson’s kidnappers, and Isabelle had licked his wounds to heal him, he’d turned into a lovesick fool. No matter how often he told himself that she would have done this for anybody who was loyal to her father and was trying to help save him, and that this was nothing personal, and for certain, nothing sexual, he didn’t want to see the truth. Instead, he lived in a fantasy where Isabelle was his lover and drank his blood while they had mind-blowing sex twenty-four-seven.

It was foolish, and he knew it. Isabelle had no interest in him. Besides, she could do much better than him. A beautiful and accomplished woman like her could have her pick among humans and vampires alike. And he had no right to hope. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop himself from dreaming. From fantasizing what it would be like to touch her. To make love to her.

“Orlando?”

At the sound of his name, Orlando turned to the coat check area, where Beth, a vampire female, put the receiver back on the housephone. “Yeah?”

“Andrew is asking if you could give him a hand getting rid of a pesky customer.”

Orlando lifted one side of his mouth into a half smile. “Sure.”

She batted her eyelashes at him, but the action left him cold. Beth was pretty, and if rumors were true, then she could give a guy a good time in bed. But he wasn’t interested. Not in her. His gaze swept down to the dance floor, where he saw many familiar faces: fellow vampires and regulars. Then he lifted his eyes to the bar to search for the rowdy patron the bartender wanted gone. His eyes landed on Isabelle. She was standing with her back to the bar, while a vampire Orlando had seen a few times before leaned in far too closely, saying something into her ear.

Orlando’s insides knotted. She was flirting with this guy, who was far too good-looking and knew it too. He’d watched the guy several times using his charm on other women, and knew the vampire was arrogant and full of himself. He believed himself to be a catch because of his handsome looks, and plenty of women dropped their panties for him. And now he was trying it with Isabelle. And all Orlando could do was watch helplessly.

Orlando tore his gaze from her and quickly spotted a patron who was half draped over the other end of the bar, clearly drunk and belligerent. While he made his way down around the dance floor, his gaze drifted back to Isabelle and the stranger. To his surprise, Isabelle suddenly pushed away from the vampire, cast him an annoyed look and said something that looked like a rebuke. Then she walked toward the corridor where the restrooms, the supply room, and the back exit were located. Involuntarily, Orlando grinned to himself. He should have known that Isabelle would realize quickly enough that the guy was an arrogant ass.

Relieved, Orlando headed for the bar and put his hand on the drunk guy, while nodding at Andrew, one of the three vampire bartenders on duty tonight.

“That your trouble child?” Orlando asked while he pulled the drunk off the bar.

“He’s yours now,” Andrew said with a grin.

When the drunk tried to resist, Orlando added, “I do love this part of my job best.”

“And I love watching,” Andrew replied, running his eyes over Orlando in an unmistakable way.

Orlando tilted his head to the side and grunted in displeasure. “Another look like that, and you’ll be taking the trash out yourself.”

Andrew shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Then he chuckled. “And loosen up a little. I know you’re not bowling for my team.”

“Hmm.” Not wanting to let Andrew have the last word, he said, “Next time, cut this guy off before he’s had too much.”

Not waiting for an answer, Orlando turned and grabbed the drunk harder despite the guy’s attempts at escaping his iron grip. He headed toward the front exit. He could have easily thrown the guy over his shoulder to make a quicker exit, but he knew that neither Damian nor Patrick, the two club managers, liked displays of excessive strength. After all, the humans in San Francisco didn’t know about the existence of vampires, and it had to stay that way.

Moments later, the drunk was outside, and Orlando headed back into the club. He glanced toward the bar, checking whether there were any other drunks that needed to be evicted, when he caught a movement at the other end of it. There, the vampire Isabelle had been flirting with was entering the corridor in which Isabelle had disappeared only moments earlier.

An uncomfortable shiver ran down Orlando’s spine.

* * *

Isabelle washed her hands in the ladies’ room of the Mezzanine, where she’d fled to because the vampire who’d introduced himself as Kevin had been way too pushy for her liking. He hadn’t taken her subtle hints that she wasn’t interested in him. While his physical appearance had been pleasing, his character and attitude left much to be desired. In the end, she’d had to be blunt and tell him to leave her alone. He’d get over it. In fact, she was sure he was already looking for another victim, probably a human woman whom he could influence with mind control so she’d go home with him and let him bite her. Perhaps she should talk to her brother Patrick to alert him of Kevin so he could make it clear to him that a certain kind of behavior wasn’t tolerated here.

With a last look in the mirror, Isabelle left the restroom and stepped into the corridor. For a moment, she wondered whether she should go back inside, but decided against it. She turned toward the right to head for the back exit. She only made two steps, before she felt a hand on her shoulder and was whirled around.