laying over for a few days on my way to L.A.”
“Oh? Is this a business trip?”
“You could say that.”
The waitress arrived with their coffee. “Will there be anything else?”
Eddie glanced at Kaitlyn, one brow raised in question.
She shook her head, wishing again that she had refused his invitation. There was something about Eddie she didn’t like, didn’t trust, although she had no idea what it was. He seemed nice enough. And it was, after all, just a cup of coffee. It wasn’t as if she was agreeing to a lifetime commitment.
“Have you lived here long?” he asked.
“No.” She added cream and sugar to her cup. “What kind of business are you in?” Not that she cared, she thought as she stirred her coffee.
“At the moment, I’m just scouting around.”
“Oh.” She sipped her coffee. It burned her tongue, but she kept drinking. The sooner she finished it, the sooner she could get out of here. She should have bought a half-gallon of ice cream at the store. It would have given her a good excuse to hurry home.
“So, I was thinking, maybe we could go out later, take in dinner and a movie.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I have a date.”
“How about tomorrow night?”
“I’m afraid you’re wasting your time. I’m seeing someone.”
“Are you engaged?”
“No, but we’re exclusive.” She drained her cup and set it aside. “I really need to go.”
He stared at her, his eyes narrowed, as if he didn’t believe her, but she didn’t care.
She lifted one brow. “Do you mind letting me out?”
“Sure.” He wasn’t smiling now.
Kaitlyn slid out of the booth. “Thank you for the coffee,” she murmured over her shoulder.
It was all she could do to keep from running out the door. She didn’t know who Eddie Harrington was, but he gave her the creeps.
Chapter 11
Zack stood in the shadows alongside Kaitlyn’s house, debating whether to see her again. She was a nice girl, obviously a little naïve when it came to men. He had the feeling she had been sheltered most of her life until she came here to live. He sensed the strength in her, but it was more physical than emotional, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. In all his existence, he had had only one long-standing relationship with a woman, and that had been over a century and a half ago. It just wasn’t smart to care too deeply for mortals. At best, they lived a mere seventy or eighty years; at worst, they died in your arms at the age of twenty, like his beautiful dancer, her mind gone, her body ravaged by disease.
He rarely thought of Colette. She had been a pretty young woman, with bright red hair, a winsome smile, and a dancer’s slender figure. They had spent three incredible years together and then, without warning, she took sick. Within the space of a few hours, she was out of her head with fever. He had taken her to the hospital, but the doctor shook his head and said there was nothing he could do. In a few days, she looked more dead than alive. He had begged her to let him bring her across in hopes that the change would heal her in mind and body, but she had been too far gone to decide, and when he had tried to bring her across, it was too late. She had died in his arms. The memory of her death had haunted him for years. Even now, thinking of her filled him with guilt and regret. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face that kind of failure, of loss, again.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. Best to go back home where he belonged. He was about to head back to the casino when Kaitlyn appeared at the front window. One look and he knew he couldn’t let her go, not yet. He had been alone too long, waited too long to feel the warm rush of desire that spiraled through him whenever she was near, a hunger not just for her blood, but for the sound of her laughter, the beauty of her smile, the chance to hold her close in his arms and feel alive again. And if she broke his heart . . . well, he would just have to
“Oh? Is this a business trip?”
“You could say that.”
The waitress arrived with their coffee. “Will there be anything else?”
Eddie glanced at Kaitlyn, one brow raised in question.
She shook her head, wishing again that she had refused his invitation. There was something about Eddie she didn’t like, didn’t trust, although she had no idea what it was. He seemed nice enough. And it was, after all, just a cup of coffee. It wasn’t as if she was agreeing to a lifetime commitment.
“Have you lived here long?” he asked.
“No.” She added cream and sugar to her cup. “What kind of business are you in?” Not that she cared, she thought as she stirred her coffee.
“At the moment, I’m just scouting around.”
“Oh.” She sipped her coffee. It burned her tongue, but she kept drinking. The sooner she finished it, the sooner she could get out of here. She should have bought a half-gallon of ice cream at the store. It would have given her a good excuse to hurry home.
“So, I was thinking, maybe we could go out later, take in dinner and a movie.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I have a date.”
“How about tomorrow night?”
“I’m afraid you’re wasting your time. I’m seeing someone.”
“Are you engaged?”
“No, but we’re exclusive.” She drained her cup and set it aside. “I really need to go.”
He stared at her, his eyes narrowed, as if he didn’t believe her, but she didn’t care.
She lifted one brow. “Do you mind letting me out?”
“Sure.” He wasn’t smiling now.
Kaitlyn slid out of the booth. “Thank you for the coffee,” she murmured over her shoulder.
It was all she could do to keep from running out the door. She didn’t know who Eddie Harrington was, but he gave her the creeps.
Chapter 11
Zack stood in the shadows alongside Kaitlyn’s house, debating whether to see her again. She was a nice girl, obviously a little naïve when it came to men. He had the feeling she had been sheltered most of her life until she came here to live. He sensed the strength in her, but it was more physical than emotional, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. In all his existence, he had had only one long-standing relationship with a woman, and that had been over a century and a half ago. It just wasn’t smart to care too deeply for mortals. At best, they lived a mere seventy or eighty years; at worst, they died in your arms at the age of twenty, like his beautiful dancer, her mind gone, her body ravaged by disease.
He rarely thought of Colette. She had been a pretty young woman, with bright red hair, a winsome smile, and a dancer’s slender figure. They had spent three incredible years together and then, without warning, she took sick. Within the space of a few hours, she was out of her head with fever. He had taken her to the hospital, but the doctor shook his head and said there was nothing he could do. In a few days, she looked more dead than alive. He had begged her to let him bring her across in hopes that the change would heal her in mind and body, but she had been too far gone to decide, and when he had tried to bring her across, it was too late. She had died in his arms. The memory of her death had haunted him for years. Even now, thinking of her filled him with guilt and regret. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face that kind of failure, of loss, again.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. Best to go back home where he belonged. He was about to head back to the casino when Kaitlyn appeared at the front window. One look and he knew he couldn’t let her go, not yet. He had been alone too long, waited too long to feel the warm rush of desire that spiraled through him whenever she was near, a hunger not just for her blood, but for the sound of her laughter, the beauty of her smile, the chance to hold her close in his arms and feel alive again. And if she broke his heart . . . well, he would just have to
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