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Dominique slipped the scabbard into its bag and hung it back up with its mate. “Très bien.” When he turned back to her, it was like the swords had ceased to exist. He stuck his fingers in his pockets and smiled. “Is there any food?”
There was. Because of their often unpredictable schedule, the jet and its rotating crew were always on standby, and the galley was always stocked with the basics. The microwaved breakfast casserole served by the bleary-eyed steward wasn’t lavish, but it was tasty, as were the fresh OJ and the mostly fresh pastries. The best part was the large thermos of hot chocolate. Dominique had hurriedly made it before they left. Now, Cassidy smiled as she watched his reluctant pleasure at finding the drink spiced “almost” the way he preferred.
Later, while he stared out the window, she tried to nap, but failed miserably. Even here, she was too anxious about leaving him on his own, too worried about what he might scheme about, or, worse, the suppressant spontaneously wearing off. Giving up on getting rest, she got up to raid the remaining pastries.
When he saw her return with the entire bin, he shook his head. “Madame,your appetite is…impressive.”
Stress will do that to you, she thought, but smiled as she selected a chocolate-stuffed croissant. “It’s nothing compared to yours,monsieur.” Pushing the pastry container in his direction, she added, “Have some.” He looked unsure. She gave him a seductive smile and purred, “I know you want to.”
He did. Though still not a fan of the “strange” taste, he declared it passable. For the remaining two hours of the flight, they nibbled and talked, mostly about carefully inconsequential things. It wasn’t for a lack of trying on Cassidy’s part. She gave him countless hints and loose ends, silently begging him to follow up.
He didn’t. The truth and his human mind continued to repel each other like water and oil. By the time they touched down, the pastry bin was empty and Cassidy was exhausted.
On the ride to the hotel, she took stock of Vancouver. As cities went, this one had a lot going for it. It was a busy glass-and-steel metropolis, with green spaces exploding out of every crack and crevice. Late spring rode in the cool, fresh air streaming through the open window. There was even a tang of cedar mixed with ocean brine. Despite her fatigue, she smiled into the watery sunlight, new energy coursing through her body.
Beside her, Dominique hunched deeper into his jacket.
“Are you okay?”
“I am cold,” he grumbled.
“But the sun is out. You should be thrilled.”
She waited for an argument or a scoff. Instead, he gave her a strange look and turned back to his window.
The room they had waiting for them at the Pan Pacific was enormous. Cassidy tried not to look as awkward as she still felt in situations like this. In her previous life, she would have booked into the cheapest motel on the outskirts of town. Now she had two bellmen wheel her luggage into an apartment-sized space featuring a separate bedroom, cozy sofa group, and elegant dining area, even a small kitchenette. The style was clean, modern, and neutral so as not to detract from the shimmering harbor and misty mountain views beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Dominique seemed a little more at ease, looking around casually with his hands in his pockets. From a more affluent background, he was used to traveling in some style, but this was extravagant even by his former standards. After the bellmen concluded a tour of the amenities, filled the ice bucket, collected their tips, and departed, Dominique gestured at the expansive space and tidy furnishings. “I booked this?”
“You sure did.” In fact, it was the last thing he had done before prepping the suppressant. He even used a fake name. They were entering the territory of a hostile blood-drinker. The fewer people who knew where they were, the better. Even during the day.
“And I can afford this?”
She walked up to him. “This and the plane that brought us here. You could afford to buy the whole hotel without missing the change.”
“Security,” he murmured. “Hmm.” He curled an arm around her waist, drawing her close. “But I…he would give it all up for you, would he not?”
Cassidy sobered, her hands on his chest. “The money is a tool. Nothing more.”
“I remember some things. Nothing clear. Just…shadows. Like nightmares in the morning. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.”
His eyes filled with uncertainty and a vulnerability she had rarely seen in them. “But you are part of that world?”
“Yes,” she said again, more softly.
“How is that possible?”
“I’m your path out of those nightmares, Dominique. I always have been.”
“My ‘beating heart and living soul,’” he quoted, searching her upturned face.
“As you are mine.”
Their lips came together in a tender kiss that zinged through her body like a live current. He must have sensed it, too, because a moment later he had her hard against himself and deepened the kiss until the current turned to a smolder.
There was no rushing him this time as he explored her body, getting to know it anew, taking pleasure in igniting all her senses. The white-hot climax that seized her took her off-guard, and she struggled to gather her wits enough to prepare for what was next.
