“Um…did you say New York?” she asked, attempting to hide the surprise. “Yes. We’re taking a trip. My brother, Quint, heads up the vampires there so it should be relatively safe. The party, however, is being held in Chappaqua.”
“What a coincidence. The handle is in New York as well.” She paused. “Actually, the museum is in New York, but the handle is at a secret storage facility in Brooklyn. Adam is going to text me tomorrow with the address and—”
“Adam?” He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.
“Yes. Adam Strommell. He’s an old friend from grad school.” Waverly released a breath, slowing her heartbeat.
“Old friend?”
“Yes. We studied together in grad school. Then he went to work in New York. And I stayed in San Diego.” Waverly carefully considered her words. “I sent a copy and paste email to all the museum curators I know and asked for help, trying to find out more about the fleam. Apparently, his boss passed it on to him. The cataloguing database is quite extensive in any given museum. He got lucky. Got a hit on the initials.”
“An old friend finding what you need is serendipitous indeed,” he mused.
“He said he’d text the info tomorrow.” Waverly stopped mid-thought. “Wait, what time is it? Where are we going?”
“I have a place in the city. We’ll flash up, get ready there and take a limo to the party,” he explained. “The party doesn’t begin until midnight. I’m sorry to interrupt your nap. But I’d like to leave within the hour. I’ve already asked the maid to have the house ready for our arrival. I know I said I’d order lunch, but I’d like to get up to New York as soon as possible. You and Rafe can eat there. I promise you’ll have a bit of time for a nap before the event. I’m having my personal shopper bring over some suitable outfits for you. Perhaps one day we’ll have time to see New York together. Go to dinner and the theater. I love Broadway.”
Waverly smiled. “Like a date?”
He laughed. “Yes. I suppose so.”
“You like Broadway shows?”
“But of course, I do. I’m a vampire, not dead.”
“You’re full of surprises.” Waverly gave him a curious smile. He never ceased to amaze her.
“Just you wait, mo chroí. You’re in for an adventure.” Viktor stood and leaned toward her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Once this ugly situation is sorted out, we’ll do New York properly.”
Waverly’s pulse raced as he pulled away from her. Tempted to reach for him, to roll him onto the bed and fuck his brains out, she clutched the blanket as if she was tethering herself to keep from floating off into the sea. Like being lost in a wild storm, her feelings for him had begun to spiral out of her control. I’m in trouble.
“Can you be ready soon? I’ve got to gather Rafe. Make sure he’s feeling all right. I shouldn’t have left him so long in San Diego.”
“Yes. Absolutely.” She nodded.
“Perfect.” Viktor gave a small smile as he left the room and closed the door behind him.
Waverly sensed the responsibility that weighed heavy on his shoulders. She considered how, while he seemed aloof at times, he’d gone for Rafe, and remained committed to taking care of the young wolf. She wondered if he’d had children when he was human, his paternal nature apparent.
Waverly had never thought to have children. With a busy career and traveling schedule, it wasn’t feasible. But it was also true, she’d never fallen in love. As her thoughts began to drift into a fantasy, a life with a family, she shut down the unattainable dreams. Indulging in what ifs wouldn’t change the fact that Viktor was vampire.
She lay back on the bed, stealing a few minutes of rest. Within the hour, she’d take on New York City. In a week, she’d gone from surfing and art museums to a world of demons and paranormal parties. She blew out a cleansing breath and prayed for the strength to get through their next jaunt.
“It looks….um, see through.” Waverly smoothed her hands over the fine lace, floor-length gown. The black satin bra and panties were visible through the transparent fabric.
“Tom Ford, darling. It’s stunning,” insisted the stylist who Viktor had sent to attend to her. Beverly Stacco. Personal shopper to the stars. “You do realize the dress you’re wearing costs several thousand dollars? It’s the best of the best. Perfecto. You’ll be the belle of the ball tonight.”
“Wow. Okay. Um, really, I would have been fine with something less expensive. Maybe a dress from Macy’s? They’ve always got a sale going.”
“Pfft. Viktor is the epitome of style. You must match.” The tall brunette gestured to a vanity set. Dressed in a pair of embellished jeans with a black, ruffled, chiffon blouse, she teetered around the room, her crystal-studded boots tapping about the wooden floor. The diminutive but headstrong woman rummaged through her suitcase and retrieved a tan linen bag. “Now. Come sit at the mirror. Let’s try the shoes.”
A silver pair of bootie-style, open-toed, dress sandals dangled from Beverly’s fingers. Netting, adorned with tiny crystals, stretched over the leather. “These are perfect. Rene Caovilla. Snakeskin. Love them.”
Waverly sat down onto the black velvet settee, careful not to tug on the dress. “How long have you worked for Viktor?”
“Since the sixties,” she commented, slipping a sandal onto one of her feet.
“The sixties?” Waverly quickly did the math and attempted to conceal her surprise. The woman appeared far younger than her age. Vampire. “You must be close…having worked together for such a long time.”