Desire the Night
“Do you ever miss eating?” Kay asked when the waitress left to turn in their order.
“Not anymore.” He leaned back, one arm draped over the back of the booth. “So, what are you gonna do now?”
“I don’t know. Go home, I guess.”
“Where’s home?”
“Custer, South Dakota.”
“Are you serious? What the hell are you doing there?” He shook his head, and then laughed. “Couldn’t you find a smaller town?”
She looked at him as if he wasn’t too bright. “I like it because it is a small town. Not a lot of people. And it’s close to the Black Hills.”
“Ah. Lots of game and plenty of wide-open spaces.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Honey, I’ve been everywhere.”
Of course he had, she thought. “So, where are we now?”
“Phoenix.”
“Phoenix!” How did she get so far from home? “What are we doing here?”
“I maintain a couple of residences around the country. This one was the closest to Verah’s place.”
Kay considered that a moment. “So, where does the witch live?”
“Some little no-name town in New Mexico.”
“New Mexico!” Kay exclaimed. She knew she had been drugged when she went nightclubbing with Wanda, but she’d had no idea her kidnapper had taken her so far away from home.
Gideon leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table. “I don’t think I thanked you for getting me out of that hellhole.”
“My pleasure. So, what are you going to do now?”
“Stay away from witches,” he answered with a wry grin.
“Me, too.” She spread her napkin in her lap, her expression thoughtful. “My boss must be wondering where I am. I’ve never missed a day without calling in. Which reminds me, I’m going to have to get a new cell phone. Wanda’s probably worried sick, and angry because I haven’t shown up at work.”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m a veterinary assistant and part-time receptionist.”
“Makes sense. Who better to work with the fanged and furry than a werewolf?”
“Very funny.” Kay sat back when the waitress arrived with their order. It took all her self-control to keep from pouncing on the thick slice of prime rib.
“You sure that’s dead?” Gideon asked, gesturing at her steak. “Wouldn’t surprise me if it got up and walked away.”
Kay stuck her tongue out at him.
Smiling, Gideon sipped his wine.
In no time at all, she had devoured the steak and fries.
“Do you want another one?” he asked, wondering where she had put that enormous slab of meat. To look at her, you’d think she hardly ate at all.
“I was hungry,” she replied defensively. “After all, I haven’t had a decent meal in days.”
“I know. So, do you want another one?”
When she nodded, Gideon waved the waitress over.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “What can I get for you?”
“I’d like another glass of wine,” he said. “And another steak for the lady.” He grinned at the astonished expression on the waitress’s face as she jotted it down.
“Right away, sir,” she said, and hurried away.
“She must think I’m a … a … I don’t know what,” Kay muttered.
“The way she took off, I’m thinking she was afraid she might be the next course.”
Kay glared at him.
Gideon laughed softly, amused by her embarrassment. She was something else, he thought—a werewolf who blushed like a schoolgirl. He hadn’t been this enchanted by a woman in a long time, nor wanted one as badly. It surprised him to realize he was going to miss her when she was gone.
When they left the restaurant, Gideon suggested they take a walk, and Kay agreed.
She took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh clear air. Even though she had been imprisoned for only a few days, it seemed much longer.
They walked in silence for a few minutes before Gideon said, “I guess you’re in a hurry to go home.”
“Well, sure,” she said. “I mean, I have a job and … why do you ask?”
“I was kinda hoping you’d stick around for a while.”
Kay’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”
He shrugged. “I feel like I owe you a good time, you know? Or at least a new cell phone.”
“You don’t have to buy me anything else.”
“Didn’t we already have this conversation?”
She arched one brow. “Just because you can afford it doesn’t mean I want you spending your money on me.”
“Listen, Kiya, money’s the least of my problems. What do you say? Can you hang around for a few days?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a saucy grin. “When you buy me that new phone, I’ll call my boss and see what he says.”
As it turned out, Kay had three weeks vacation coming. It took some fancy footwork on her part to explain why she hadn’t come in to work or called. In the end, she wasn’t sure Dr. Saltzman believed she’d been in a car accident and spent the missing days in a hospital with amnesia. The tone of his voice seemed to imply that he suspected her of indulging in a casual fling, but he finally agreed she could take her vacation early, minus the days she had missed.
Kay’s second call was to Wanda.
“So, where have you been?” Wanda asked. “Last time I saw you, you were dancing with that good-looking guy at the club. Have you been with him all this time? And why didn’t you call me?”
Kay took a deep breath. What on earth was she going to say? She looked at Gideon, and then she knew.
“I’ve been with a good-looking guy, but not the one you saw me with. Listen, I’m taking my vacation now. Would you water my plants and collect my mail until I get home?”
“Sure, but …”
“I have to go. He’s waiting for me. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you,” she promised, and hung up before Wanda could ask any more questions.
“Is that other ‘good-looking guy’ me?” Gideon asked with a wicked grin.
“Oh, get over yourself,” Kay said. She slipped her new iPhone—apparently Gideon bought nothing but the best, whether it was boots, bags, or phones—into her new handbag, then looked up at him. “So, you’ve got me for two weeks, give or take a day,” she said with a saucy grin. “Now what?”
Gideon rubbed a hand across his jaw as he considered her question. Two weeks. Not a vast amount of time in his world, he mused. Nevertheless, she was lovely. She was desirable. And he wanted her.
“Now what?” he drawled. “How about this?” And so saying, he drew her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.
There was nothing tentative about his kiss, nothing gentle, or tender. It was a bold declaration of his intentions. He figured if she was willing, she would kiss him back, and if she wasn’t, he was prepared for a good hard slap.
She tensed in his arms and for a moment, Gideon thought he had misjudged the undeniably potent attraction between them, but then, with a little sigh, she wrapped her arms around his waist and melted into his embrace.
Holding her close, Gideon willed them to his lair in New York City, which was located in a renovated loft on the top floor of a ballet studio.
Still enfolded in Gideon’s arms, Kay looked up at him, her brow furrowed. “What just happened? Where are we?”
“My lair in the Big Apple.”
“New York?” She glanced around, her eyes widening as she took in her surroundings.
If his place in Phoenix had been sparse, this one was magnificent—from the polished parquet floors to the luxurious velvet draperies at the barred windows. A pair of deep burgundy sofas faced each other across a glass-topped coffee table in front of a large white marble fireplace. Abstract paintings adorned two of the walls, a flat-screen TV took up most of the third. A narrow curio cabinet held an assortment of antique weapons.
“This place is amazing.”
“It should be, for what I paid for it.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Wanna see the rest?”
“Sure.”
Setting her on her feet, he led the way into a room paneled in dark oak. A forest-green carpet covered the floor, matching drapes hung at the barred, single window. A pair of floor-to-ceiling bookcases stood on either side of the window. Brass figurines of mounted knights and dragons were scattered among the numerous volumes on the shelves. A life-sized wooden Indian, complete with warbonnet and lance, stood in the far corner. A large desk, which held only a laptop computer, dominated the room. She noted the small white refrigerator located beside the desk. No need to ask what that was for.
“I take it you read a lot,” Kay remarked, glancing at the bookcases.
Gideon nodded. “You could say that.”
“And the wooden Indian?”
“I picked it up cheap at an antique store that was going out of business. Are you offended by it?”
“No, just curious.”
“Guess I’ve always had a thing for Indians,” he said with a wink.
“You’re just saying that.”
“No. I spent a couple of months with a small tribe of Cherokee back in the late 1700s. Nice people.”
“Hmm.” Her gaze drifted back to the bookcases. His taste was eclectic, she thought as she perused the titles. There were several plays by Shakespeare, poetry by Blake and Yeats, novels by Tolstoy and Kipling, King and Koontz and Clancy, and, to her amusement, the works of Stephenie Meyer.
Grinning inwardly, she followed him down a carpeted hallway that ended in a bedroom that would have held her entire apartment. The walls were a clean, crisp white, the bedspread and drapes a deep wine red. Carpet that must have been two inches thick muffled her footsteps as she moved around the room. The biggest bed she had ever seen stood against the far wall, flanked by a pair of ebony nightstands. A matching entertainment center held a TV and dozens of DVDs. Most of the wall across from the bed was taken up by a fireplace with a raised marble hearth.