“Actually,” Stefan confessed, avoiding Aidan’s sharp gaze, “I believe it was Aidan he was more interested in deporting. He had an investigator run a background check on him, hoping, I think, to come up with some hint of criminal activities. Unsavoryis the descriptive I believe he used.”
Alexandria bit back a sudden laugh. “Perhaps Thomas has more intuition than we gave him credit for. Unsavoryis an apt word, don’t you think, Stefan? I wouldn’t mind having Aidan deported myself.”
“I think it would be prudent to retire to the kitchen and eat my breakfast, Alexandria,” Stefan said diplomatically.
“Your only choice,” Aidan growled.
Stefan grinned at him unrepentantly and paused in the doorway. “You might want to give Mr. Ivan a call, Alexandria. The detectives said it might stop him from harassing them every ten minutes.”
“He’s been calling them every ten minutes?” A slow smile curved her mouth. “He must really be worried. Isn’t that sweet, Aidan? He’s worried about me. He must really want me to work for him. What a break. With the money he pays me, Joshua and I can...” She trailed off, looked quickly up at Aidan.
His hand curled around the nape of her neck, his fingers moving in a soothing massage. “I am proud of you, Alexandria. Your work must be extraordinary to have Ivan after you to this extent. You deserve to feel good about yourself.” He didn’t believe for one moment that Ivan’s interest in her was purely business, but he knew she was truly talented. Aidan was a shadow in her mind, seeing her vivid pictures spring to life in her imagination.
She smiled up at him. “I used to dream about working for Thomas Ivan. His company is always on the leading edge of graphic designs, and his games are like full-length movies. When the rumor hit the street that he might be looking for another graphic designer, I started sketching night and day. I didn’t believe I’d really get a chance to show him my work, let alone that he would want to hire me.”
“From what I saw of your drawings, you are very talented,” he acknowledged softly. “But perhaps you might want to correct some of his false impressions of vampires.” Her eyes flashed at him, but a dimple deepened in her cheek. “Make them more ruthless and merciless, you mean?” she asked mischievously. She touched the petals of the nearest rose and bent once more to inhale their fragrance. “I can’t believe he sent me flowers.”
A rude noise escaped from somewhere deep in Aidan’s throat. “I just saved your life. What are roses compared to that?” He was glaring at the long-stemmed flowers, his golden gaze intense and menacing.
Alexandria glanced up at him, saw the dark, determined set of his mouth, and burst out laughing. She spun around and went up on her toes to cover his eyes with her palm. “Don’t you dare. If my roses wither, I’ll know exactly who’s responsible. I mean it, Aidan. You leave my flowers alone. You can probably destroy the entire bouquet with one ferocious glance.”
Her body was soft against his, her laughter warm against his throat. His arm circled her small waist, locking her to him. “I was only going to make them droop a little. Nothing too dramatic.”
His velvet voice turned her heart over. Little butterfly wings were brushing at her stomach. She could feel his muscles, hard and masculine, imprinted on her form. Why did her body have to melt every time she came into contact with him? Even when he was being bad, a petulant, jealous child, he made her laugh. Why did all this have to be happening with him?
“I’m going to take my hand off your eyes, but you aren’t even to look at my roses. If I catch you...” She trailed off, meaning to intimidate him. Slowly her palm slid from his eyes, her fingers accidentally touching his mouth. At once her heart slammed hard against his. Or was it his heart slamming against hers? She didn’t know, but the electricity was crackling, and he was too close.
“Don’t you dare, Aidan.” She made it an order. His eyes had gone hot, liquid gold, blazing possessively down into hers, melting her insides.
“Dare what?” he whispered, his sorcerer’s voice slipping under her skin like a flame. His gaze was so intense, she felt the same flames licking along her nerve endings.
His mouth was now mere inches away. Her tongue touched her lower lip. Enticed him. Tempted him. She closed her eyes as his mouth came down on hers. Fire swept through her, consumed her. His arms crushed her to him, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but his perfect mouth and the earth moving beneath her feet.
She belonged to him, with him. There could never be another. Only Aidan. Only the two of them together. She was his.The words beat in her head, imprinting themselves forever on her heart. On her soul. Alexandria reluctantly pulled her mouth from his, burying her face on his chest. “You aren’t playing fair, Aidan,” she said, the words muffled in his shirt.
The warmth of his breath touched her neck. “This is no game, cara. It never has been.” His mouth closed over her pulse, sending it racing. “This is for all time.”
“I have no idea what to do with you. I don’t even know if you mean the things you say.” The confusion in her mind was very real. He was swamping her, giving no relief, no time to figure things out for herself.
That wasn’t what Aidan wanted. Alexandria needed to trust him, to see him as a friend as well as a lover. The urgent demands of his body and nature gave them very little time, but he was determined to make the most of it. She could laugh at him, make him laugh at himself. It was a start to friendship. Slowly, reluctantly, his arms released her, and he stepped away, providing a measure of relief for both of them.
“Thomas Ivan needs to be taken out and shot,” he said deliberately to make her smile. “He’s a spoiled brat who made too much money too fast.”
She relaxed visibly. “I wonder if he thinks the same thing about you.”
“With his vivid imagination, he probably envisions a stake through my heart,” he muttered. “That man has a sick mind, to make up all that nonsense. Did you happen to pick up his last game, the one with the vampires and their army of women slaves?”
“Well, it’s obvious you have,” she pointed out, pouncing on that. “Secretly you probably love his games. I’ll bet you own every one.” Her eyes widened, and a slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. “You do, don’t you, Savage? You have all his games. You’re a secret fan.”
He nearly choked. “A fan? That man could not find the truth if it was staring him right in the face. As it was the other evening.”
She raised an eyebrow. “His games are fiction, Savage. No truth intended. Only imagination. That’s why they’re entertainment, not truth. Admit it, you like his games.”
“It is never going to happen, Alexandria, so do not hold your breath. And another thing—when you talk to that pompous ass on the phone, do not go all syrupy.” He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her from his superior height.
“Syrupy?” she echoed indignantly, outraged at the accusation. “I never sound syrupy.” Her large eyes flashed a warning at him, daring him to pursue his point.
He dared to. “Oh, yes, you do.” He clasped his hands together and made a face, his voice rising an octave as he simpered. “Oh, Marie, the flowers are so beautiful. Thomas Ivan gave them to me.” He rolled his eyes as he mimicked her.
“I did not say that! And I never act that way. For some reason, you just can’t bring yourself to admit you like Ivan’s games. It must be some macho kind of nonsense, although a lot of men play them and enjoy them.”
“They are pure trash,” he insisted. “And there is not a grain of truth or sense in any of them. He romanticizes vampires. It would be interesting to see what he thought if he was introduced to one.” It was a veiled threat, nothing less. Aidan fairly purred with satisfaction at the mere thought of it.