Read Online Downbeat (Biting Love) by Mary Hughes - Free Book Online

Hrbek into the passenger seat?”
    I panicked. “Wait! I can’t come with you—”
    “Right away, Maestro.” The young man jumped to it and I found myself shoehorned between fans and muscled into the car. He was quite enthusiastic about it. Thank goodness for my martial arts training, because I don’t think my limbs would have normally bent that way.
    He stuffed me into my seat and then tangled me in the belt so bad I felt like The Mummy. Then he shoved a score through the window for Zajicek to sign, nearly guillotining my nose. It was the Vaughan Williams Concerto for Bass Tuba in F minor . Got it in one.
    Zajicek signed the score then waved off the rest of the mob. “Move back. Clear the area, please.” His tones were deeper than usual, darker, reminding me of Elias’s mind-fuzzing voice.
    The mob backed up and Zajicek accelerated smoothly away, not dropping my teeth this time but we were in the moving parking lot known as Chicago city streets. Anything faster than a slow crawl would have put us up tailpipes.
    I struggled to pull my arm out of a loop of seatbelt and had managed to get my hand through when it snapped tight against my face, yanking me into the bucket seat. I continued to struggle but the seat belt was obviously winning. “I can’t go to the hospital with you,” I said from under a belt gag. “Or dinner. I have to go back to Meiers Corners.”
    Zajicek cocked a brow at me. “For what?”
    “Um, something. Something important.” Like I said, I lie for crap. “I’d at least visit the hospital with you, but with rush hour traffic snarls it’ll take two hours to get there and I need to get back right away and…and it’s important.”
    “I’m sure it is,” he said smoothly. “But we’re almost at the hospital. Surely you have a few minutes to spare for poor sick Hugo.”
    I wedged my nose out from under the belt. Sure enough, we were nearly at the hospital. The Lambo must have been part grease. Zajicek zipped in and out of traffic and within moments we were entering the hospital parking structure. If I tried to get out of it now I’d look like a thundering douchebag.
    Zajicek’s star status, money and a little vampire compulsion got his car a spot next to the elevator station, marked Reserved for Drs . As I fought with the safety belt and my frustration, he came to my door, opened it, saw me struggling and released me with a simple jab of one finger.
    Then he extended his hand. He really did have the most elegant fingers. I stopped struggling—hell, I stopped breathing—and he smiled slightly as if he knew he’d short-circuited my brain again . “Did you like the flowers?”
    “Um, yes?” Tentatively, I took his hand. His fingers closed on me and a strong, sure tug brought me flying to my feet. I gasped.
    “Do you not like roses?” He cocked his head and gave me a quizzical look.
    I broke for the elevator station. “Sure, I like roses. Who doesn’t like roses?”
    “From your tone? You, I think.” Somehow he was sauntering alongside me.
    Usually it was only my friends who knew what I was really thinking. Coming from him it was shockingly intimate.
    The elevator arrived—without him even touching the button. And didn’t that conjure up all sorts of naughty thoughts? I blurted, “They’re too big.”
    “The roses?” He held the door with one hand, waited for me to clump into the elevator, then glided through himself. This time he pressed the button. A floor button.
    “Sure, the roses.” The doors huffed and began to shut. “Of course I’m talking about the roses. What else would I be meaning but the roses—?”
    “Shh.” Zajicek pulled me firmly against him. “I have been thinking constantly of you since we parted.”
    I trembled. Six-five of hard, thick muscle atop my five-four brought home vividly that I wasn’t talking about roses, I was talking about him. His hands opened on my spine, large enough to cover my back, and his heat was that of the sun burning