LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

You keep looking toward the door.”

      “No, I haven’t, not that it’s any of your business.”

      He shrugged. “Sorry. Just trying to make conversation.”

      “I’m sorry, too,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

      “No problem.” He gestured at her empty glass. “Can I buy you another drink?”

      “I guess so.”

      “What are you drinking?” She hesitated a moment, reluctant, for some reason, to let him know she didn’t indulge. She was over twenty-one, after all. It wouldn’t hurt her to have one drink.

      He was watching her, waiting for her answer.

      “A pineapple daiquiri.”

      Vince gave the bartender her order and asked for a glass of red wine for himself. It was not his usual drink of choice; ordinarily, he ordered a Bloody Mariah.

      “I’m Vince.”

      “Cara.”

      “Nice to meet you, Cara.”

      “Thank you.”

      “You don’t seem like the type to frequent this joint.”

      “Why not?”

      “Look around, honey. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you don’t fit the profile.”

      She wanted to be offended, but how could she when he was right? She was the only one in the place who didn’t look like they had just stepped out of a cheap horror flick.

      “I just sort of stumbled into the place,” she admitted. “Until last night, I never knew The Nocturne existed.”

      He nodded. “You met someone here, didn’t you? And you came back hoping to see him again.”

      “How did you know that?”

      He shrugged. “I used to do the bar scene a lot.”

      “Used to?” She smiled at the bartender when he placed her drink in front of her. He winked at her, then moved on down the bar. She wondered what the wink was for until she tasted her drink. He had thoughtfully left out the rum.

      “I’ve been a little off my game the last year or so,” Vince said. “Been spending a lot of time by myself.”

      “Were you sick?”

      “In a way.”

      She found it hard to believe he had ever been ill. He looked the picture of health, strong and fit. His T-shirt stretched over a broad chest; his arms were long and well muscled. He reminded her of a bodybuilder except that he wasn’t bulky. He looked solid, though.

      He jerked his chin at the dance floor. “Care to take a whirl?”

      Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of being in his arms. Nodding, she followed him onto the dance floor, felt her cheeks grow hot as he took her hand in his and slipped his arm around her waist.

      Dancing with Vince was far different from dancing with Anton. Vince moved with a kind of fluid grace that made her wonder if he was a professional dancer. Her skin tingled where his hand rested on her waist, her whole body throbbed with an unfamiliar longing when she looked into his eyes. He didn’t hold her too close, didn’t say or do anything the least bit suggestive, and yet she was aware of him with every fiber of her being.

      She hated to hear the song end, felt bereft when his hand fell away from her waist. No other man had ever made her feel the way he did. A smile, a touch, and she felt beautiful, desirable. When she looked into his eyes…it was like looking into the far reaches of eternity. For a moment, she forgot where they were, forgot that they weren’t alone.

      For a moment, she wished he would kiss her.

      A wistful smile curved his lips, as if he knew what she was thinking. When he spoke, she wondered if he was reading her mind.

      “I know,” he said quietly. “I feel it, too.”

      Taking her hand in his, he led her back to the bar.

      A man was sitting on her stool.

      “Hi, sweet cakes,” Anton said, smiling. “Sorry I’m late.”

      Cara glanced from Anton to Vince and back again. “Hi. I…I didn’t think you were coming.”

      “Hey,” Anton said, looking offended, “would I let a pretty girl down?”

      Cara had never been in a situation like this before and she didn’t know what to do. She had sort of a date with Anton, but it was Vince she wanted to be with.

      Her upbringing made the decision for her. With an apologetic smile, she looked at Vince and said, “Thank you for the dance.”

      “Anytime.” Dropping her hand, he picked up his drink and walked away.

      “Who was that?” Anton asked.

      “I don’t know. Just a guy who asked me to dance.” Cara didn’t like the look in Anton’s eyes as he watched Vince settle into a booth in the far corner of the room.

      “How about a late movie?” Anton asked. He checked his watch. “If we leave now, we can just make the ten o’clock show.”

      “No, I don’t think so.”

      “You’re angry because I was late.”

      “Oh, no,” she said quickly. Quite the opposite, she thought. If he had been on time, she wouldn’t have met Vince. She wondered if he came here often. Sitting on the stool next to Anton’s, she sipped her drink, wishing she could think of a way to find out if Vince was a frequent patron.

      With a sigh, she looked at Anton. “You never told me what you do for a living,” she remarked.

      “I’m part owner of a bookstore. That’s why I was late. Something came up and I had to take care of it.”

      “A bookstore!” she exclaimed. “Sounds heavenly.”

      “I knew we had a lot in common when you told me you were a librarian,” Anton said, grinning. “Who’s your favorite author?”

      “Oh, gosh, I have so many, I wouldn’t know where to begin, but Tolkien is right up near the top.”

      “Lord of the Rings, eh? Got a thing for wizards and elves, do you?”

      “Well, I have a thing for Legolas,” she admitted with a grin. “And Aragorn, of course.”

      Anton smiled, wondering what she would think if she knew she was talking to a practicing warlock. His powers had come to him late, but his abilities were growing stronger and more proficient each day. Given time, he knew his magick would be as powerful as his father’s had been, perhaps more so.

      For a while, they talked about books. She liked fantasy, he liked science fiction; she liked humor, he liked murder mysteries. Somehow, it didn’t surprise her that their tastes were so divergent, but no matter what they were discussing, Cara was always aware of Vince sitting in the back of the room. Even when he was just sitting still, there was something about him that drew her gaze again and again. Now and then, she caught him watching her. Each time that happened, a pleasurable tingle of awareness skittered down her spine.

      She was acutely aware of Vince’s gaze when Anton asked her to dance. Once again, she found herself comparing the two men and her reaction to them. Dancing with Vince was a sensual experience that had made her very much aware of the fact that she was a woman and he was a man. Dancing with Anton was just…dancing.

      “Would you like another drink?” Anton asked when they returned to their seats.

      “No, thank you. I’ve got to go. I’m a working girl, you know.” She didn’t start work until three in the afternoon, but he didn’t know that, and it made for a good excuse.

      “Come

Скачать книгу