Vampires of London: Books 1-3

Chapter Three

Chapter ThreeI'm such an i***t.

Cat straightened herself in an attempt to seem confident, even if she felt anything but. This handsome man—the actual host of the party and owner of this amazing house—had approached her and offered her a tour. And what had she done? Fumbled over her words and acted like a complete moron. Could it get any worse?

"I'd love a tour," Cat said and glanced at his face again.

Although he was wearing a mask covering the better part of his face, it was obvious that he was gorgeous. Those brooding, dark eyes... They alone spoke a million words.

And he was built too. Taller than her, with broad shoulders and a toned, athletic body which his three-piece suit could scarcely disguise.

He made Cat nervous, which was unusual. Cat wasn't the sort to get nervous around members of the opposite s*x. Of course, she wasn't as outgoing as Shelly, but for most of her life, Cat had gotten on better with men than with women, platonically. Possibly that was a side effect of growing up with two older brothers...

Somehow though, this man was different. He intimidated her and made her feel out of her depth.

Was it because he was so handsome? Or so wealthy? How shallow.

No, Cat couldn't accept that. There was something else about him which she couldn't quite put her finger on.

He guided her around the downstairs of the house. Through the reception and the dining room, as well as the very spacious kitchen. Cat couldn't be sure how the house normally looked; it had obviously been cleared out to accommodate tonight's party guests. She would have loved to see the normal layout and furnishing instead of this bare bones version.

"Would you like to see the upper floor now?" the man asked. There was a strange glint in his eye.

Cat glanced away shyly. Was that what had thrown her off? The way he looked at her? Nobody had ever looked at her like this.

"Sure, that would be great," she said.

He gestured at the stairs. "After you."

As she climbed up, she couldn't help but take another good look at that painting that had caught her eye earlier. It was even more stunning up close. Even though she could see the brush strokes in the landscape, the figure on horseback was still so lifelike. Like it was a photograph and not a painting at all. The only thing that gave it away were the fine cracks in the varnish, a clear sign that it was much older than anyone in attendance here today.

"Beautiful artwork," Cat whispered, barely loud enough to hear over the music coming from the reception room.

"Oh. Yes, this piece has been in the family a very long time." The man smiled at her again. "If it's art you're interested in, I have some more items you might want to see."

Although she'd wanted to stop and admire that painting some more, her feet seemed to want nothing more than to carry her up the stairs. It was effortless, like she was floating.

"So this house has been in your family for a while then?" Cat asked, as she paused and held the banister with both hands at the top of the stairs. The view of the ongoing party down below, lit up by that magnificent chandelier, was something special. It made her feel powerful to be up here.

That was when she noticed a pair of red eyes burning into her from the foot of the stairs. The man, who looked to be in his mid-thirties, stood completely still as he stared at her. He didn't even blink once, which seemed unusual for someone who was obviously wearing contact lenses. An uneasy tension grew inside Cat's chest, forcing her to look away from the strange man to regain her composure.

Only then did she realize her host hadn't answered her question. And in fact, she didn't even know his name yet.

"You never introduced yourself," Cat remarked as she faced him.

He took his position next to her at the banister and looked down like she had only moments earlier. Would he notice the weirdo downstairs?

"Alexander Broderick the Third," he said. His voice was low, like he was preoccupied with something else. So he had noticed.

That name, though. It was as grand as the house itself and she might have been way more skeptical of him had she not run into him here.

"Nice to meet you," she said and followed his line of sight down.

The strange man was no longer in view. What a relief.

When she turned to face Alexander again, she found that he was already looking at her with the subtlest of smiles on his lips. She couldn't help but reciprocate.

"How about I show you the master suite?" he suggested.

His proposal was forward, crossing the limits of propriety.

Cat frowned. She ought to change her mind about this whole house tour business and get back downstairs and try to enjoy the party. She really ought to... And yet, her feet refused to move.

"It's not what you think, I promise," Alexander added, raising both his hands in a defensive gesture. "There's this beautiful painting I'm sure you would appreciate."

Cat c****d her head. Nothing in his eyes suggested that he had any ill will toward her. And even if this beautiful man was indeed trying to seduce her, was she seriously about to reject him? Would it be so bad to just take a chance for once? To jump in the deep end and see where tonight would take her?

Cat took a deep breath and smiled through a fresh surge of nerves. "Okay, sure."

Alexander offered her his arm again, which she took as he led her away from the staircase and into an elegantly decorated hallway. A similar, though smaller crystal chandelier adorned its ceiling, and paintings lined the walls. There were more hunting scenes, some still lifes and portraits, though none captured Cat's imagination as much as that first painting along the staircase.

The further they went, the fainter the music became from the party below. Until one of the doors lining the hallway opened seemingly by itself, revealing not just a breathtaking array of period furniture, but also the painting Alexander must have referred to.

Cat let go of Alexander's arm and approached it. Expert brush strokes had created a completely realistic likeness of the house they found themselves in. It must have been painted in midsummer; the front drive and lawns were lined by a dazzling array of flowers which Cat didn’t know the names of. She just knew they were beautiful.

"I love the light in this one," Alexander spoke behind her, his voice dreamy; he was obviously as enthralled by the painting as she was. "So realistic. A beautiful summer's day the likes of which I haven't seen in a very long time."

"You're right, the summers have been atrocious these past few years," Cat agreed. Still, she couldn't tear herself away from the image of the house.

It was perfect; blue skies reflected in the windows, just like a photograph. She leaned forward to get a better look and noticed the front doors were ajar and a figure waited just inside with its back turned. It made no sense of course, but as soon as she'd spotted it, she felt herself drawn to the house and wanted nothing more than to step inside.

Ridiculous. It’s just a painting after all.

Cat turned and found that Alexander was already looking at her. He held two elegant long stemmed glasses in his hand.

"Champagne?"

Cat took a step back and scanned the room. Where had he got those from all of a sudden? Had this room already been prepped, just waiting for whoever he chose to bring up here?

She was about to protest when music started to play in the background. Something classical, she wasn't sure what it was.

Now where was the music coming from? She hadn't seen a stereo or even speakers anywhere. They'd look so out of place with all of this regency furniture that she was certain she would have noticed them on her way in.

Before she knew it, she'd accepted the champagne flute.

"To great art and great beauty," Alexander said and raised his glass for a toast.

She followed his example, even though her heart was hammering in her throat now.

"To art," she mumbled.

What’s going on here? None of this makes any sense. Was that first drink spiked?

Against better judgment, she took her first sip and felt her worries dissipate. So what if he was plying her with drinks. So what if she was alone with a stranger in this luxurious bedroom. She glanced at the painting again.

It was all worth it, wasn't it?

She took another sip and felt her confidence grow. Who cares if he brought me up here to seduce me? This is the sort of thing that happens to Shelly, not me. If this is what it feels like to be coveted, I’ll take it.

He took the glass from her and placed it on the lacquered wooden cabinet facing the bed. Then he held out his hand.

"Would you honor me with this dance?" he all but whispered.

Cat bit her lip. This entire scenario was absurd: being in here, with this man, in this room... And now, he wanted to dance with her.

And yet...

She placed her hand in his, and he started to lead immediately.

Cat wasn't much of a dancer, and she certainly wasn't familiar with ballroom steps. Still, she found herself moving effortlessly. Her feet seemed to know what to do as the two of them started to circle around the room.

She wrapped her arm around his neck, just as his hand rested in the small of her back. They started off touching only lightly, but after a few steps, she found herself firmly in his grasp.

It didn't occur to her anymore to question what was going on.

This was amazing. She felt like Cinderella dancing through her very own fairy tale. Did that mean that Alexander was her Prince Charming? No, that would be ridiculous. This was just a fling at a Halloween party. Nothing less, and nothing more.

She gazed up at him, at those deep black eyes, which somehow managed to convey more emotion than any other guy she'd ever been with. How she wished she could see the rest of his face. She let her gaze travel downward to the part of his face that wasn't obscured.

Full lips, slightly parted to reveal perfectly white teeth.

His pale skin was smooth, flawless, without the slightest hint of stubble, or even a razor burn. Did rich people have ways and means to skip the inconveniences normal guys often had to deal with? Perhaps he was wearing some kind of make-up.

He asked her questions, about her family, where she was from. She did her best to answer, as she observed his every move.

Even his scent was unique: sweeter, cleaner than other guys. Not that Cat thought regular guys were dirty; Alexander was just different somehow, in a way that she couldn't make sense of.

She wasn't sure how long they'd been dancing for when the music stopped, as did the two of them. But they didn't let go. If anything, Cat thought she could feel his arm tighten around her. Similarly, she clung on to his neck and stared into his eyes.

This was the moment of truth. Now, she would find out what else tonight would bring.