"I know precisely what she's for, Vinny, and I am not jealous." Meghann brushed past him and stalked into the foyer just as Lord Baldevar entered with his office s.l.u.t in tow.

The woman didn't seem at all surprised by Meghann's presence she just looked her over with a resigned air.

Why would she expect another woman here? Meghann wondered. Then she remembered Vinny's remark concerning "other broads" and took a step forward, intending to inform this chippie that she was not part of the floor show for the evening.

"Meghann!" Simon spoke before she could open her mouth, giving her a warm smile. "I was not expecting you until tomorrow evening. You should have called I would have sent Vinny to the airport for you." Taking advantage of Meghann's momentary disconcertment, he turned to his soignie companion. "May I introduce you? This is Meghann O'Neill daughter of a dear friend of mine in New York. She's just finished college and I told her father that I'd be delighted to help her find some position or another. Meghann, this is Louise Caraway she came over to discuss a bit of hotel business with me."

Meghann reluctantly held her hand out, feeling disdain drip from the mortal woman's grip.

"Are you staying here with Lord Charlton?" Louise asked, speaking to Meghann as though she were ten instead of the twenty Simon was trying to pa.s.s her off as.

Lord Charlton so that was the ident.i.ty Simon used among mortals these days. "I prefer to stay with some friends closer to my own age," Meghann replied and she saw Simon's eyes glitter at her gibe.

"I love your outfit. It's so grown-up for a girl your age," Louise said.

Meghann smiled as though she were oblivious to the mortal's condescension.

"I'm just happy it's an original. I've never understood women who embarra.s.s themselves by wearing knock-offs."

Louise, wearing a pinstripe business suit of dubious provenance, managed to keep the brittle, haughty little smile on her face though it wavered slightly. "Are you going out somewhere that you're all dressed up?"

"Clubbing," Meghann responded. "You know, hang out with some friends maybe find a new boyfriend." She kept her gaze on Louise when she spoke, not even deigning to look at Lord Baldevar. What nerve he had, decreeing that she couldn't take a lover while he continued adding notches to his bedpost. If he was going to play the field, there was no reason she couldn't too.

There's a perfect reason I won't let you.

Go to h.e.l.l, Meghann replied while the mortal woman asked another inane question.

"I hope we're not keeping you, dear. What time are you supposed to meet your friends?"

"Oh, I have some time yet," Meghann responded airily. "I wouldn't dream of leaving without having a drink. After all, Simon and I haven't talked in why, I can't even remember how long it's been." At the entrance to the living room, she turned around and widened her eyes in exaggerated innocence. "Unless you'd like me to leave, Simon?"

"Meghann," he said and dropped Louise's arm so he could come over to her.

"You know you are always welcome in my house. Besides, we have so much to discuss."

"I love this room!" Meghann said brightly, ignoring the hand that dug painfully into her shoulder to repay her remark about finding a boyfriend. "I always thought art deco had an unsurpa.s.sable glamour. I feel like I'm on the set of some glitzy movie from the twenties."

Meghann's compliment was sincere. One thing she had to give Simon Baldevar credit for was his exquisite taste and flair for style. The walls were lacquered in cream with the moldings and ceiling painted in gold leaf. That provided a quiet backdrop for the dramatic living room with its baby grand piano, silver-dusted vases, art deco sculptures, and glossy black lacquer end tables. The floor-length torchiere lamps, with their reeded shafts and urn-shaped bowls, provided the room with a soft rosy light that reminded Meghann of the Stork Club in New York City, where Simon had taken her for their first and oh so memorable date.

"Thank you," Simon said and stepped behind the wet bar, a half oval of gleaming black Lucite with several high metal stools surrounding it. "Would either of you ladies care for a drink?"

Louise requested a martini while Meghann said she'd just have mineral water with lime.

After placing the drinks on a bronze and gla.s.s table that Meghann was certain was a Printz original, Simon settled down on a violet divan with Meghann, leaving Louise to loll by herself on a silver-and-black chaise longue, no doubt thinking the stark setting complemented her own severe beauty of sharply bobbed dark hair and angular cheekbones.

"You're wise to abstain from alcohol, Meghann," Simon complimented, clinking his own water gla.s.s against hers. "Too much liquor ages a woman dreadfully causes all kinds of dreadful lines and crow'sfeet when you grow older."

Meghann almost felt sympathy for Louise coloring under the foundation she used to hide the wrinkles Simon acidly mentioned. What kind of game was Simon playing with this woman? Meghann wondered, watching them both glare at each other. This wasn't just or even primarily about s.e.x. No, Simon was what?

Toying with her, Meghann realized. He was toying with the mortal, like a cat with a b.u.t.terfly pick, pick, picking at it until there was nothing left and the cat moved in for the kill. Simon was toying with this mortal mistress, both through the degrading s.e.x Vinny mentioned and the cutting insults.

Meghann filed the information away, feeling little sympathy for Louise. It wasn't as if this were some unwilling victim. No, Louise was using s.e.x to get ahead but she'd picked the wrong person to play that game with. Meghann wondered when Simon would tear the veil from her eyes let her see that all the insults she'd endured, all the depravity were for nothing.

"Have you any idea of what kind of position you're looking for, dear?" Louise asked.

"Oh, I don't know." Meghann spoke in a bland tone, though her eyes darkened to emerald with malice. "I kind of thought I'd spit on feminist ideals and sleep my way to the top so I could be part of keeping the gla.s.s ceiling firmly in place and perpetuate the myth that a woman can't succeed on her brains only on her back."

Louise flushed an unflattering red and glanced at Simon, seeming undecided as to what he'd do if she retaliated. Simon met her eyes and lifted one corner of his mouth in a half smirk before he turned to Meghann. "Don't even joke that way, Meghann. You're far too special to sell your body like a common harlot for the purpose of advancement."

"Maybe," Louise said coldly, her blue eyes becoming little chips of ice, "we should reschedule our business meeting since you have to entertain your little guest."

"Yes," Simon replied absently, still looking at Meghann while he waved his hand, dismissing Louise as he would a servant. "Vinny will escort you home.

Good night."

"Good night, Louetta," Meghann called, and the mortal spun around on her heel, nearly slipping on the polished laminate floor.

"What did you call me?" she gasped, and Meghann didn't have to read the mortal's mind to see her consternation it was reflected in her bulging eyes and the hammering pulse at the base of her throat. Louise/ Louetta wanted to know how the h.e.l.l this young girl she'd never seen before knew her real name.

"Louise," Meghann replied ingenuously and shrugged her shoulders, thinking she should tell the woman she wasn't the only one in the room keeping her true ident.i.ty hidden. She smiled, not at all kindly, at the mortal's ill-concealed relief and said, "What else could I have called you?"

"Minx," Simon murmured into her ear after Louise headed for the foyer, taking one quick lick at the pearly pink sh.e.l.l of her earlobe. "No doubt you just brought to mind every distressing memory of the bluegra.s.s trailer park and scrounging existence she's tried so valiantly to escape. Nice work, little one."

It was Meghann's turn to flush while ostentatiously wiping her ear. Just because she didn't care for the woman didn't mean she should be a willing partic.i.p.ant in one of Lord Baldevar's s.a.d.i.s.tic games. She'd just behaved like an absolute b.i.t.c.h what was the matter with her?

Simon tilted her head toward him so she could see the soft smile on his lips, the gloating expression in his eyes, and too late she realized why he'd brought Louise here when he never brought mortal lovers to his home. He'd wanted to make her jealous!

Well, it didn't work, Meghann told herself firmly and scowled at Simon's self- congratulatory grin, stifling a childish impulse to stick her tongue out at him. She was not jealous Lord Baldevar could sleep with ten s.l.u.ts like Louise for all she cared. It was just that the mortal's patronizing att.i.tude had annoyed Meghann and she put Louise in her place. Who does Louise Caraway think she is, Meghann thought, daring to look down her plastic-surgery-enhanced nose at me?

Vinny came back into the house, laden with expensively wrapped packages Simon had ordered him to retrieve from the Bentley's trunk, while Louise hurried past him and out of the house.

"Kindly take Ms. Caraway home," Simon instructed his servant. "Then you may spend the rest of the evening in town perhaps procure some more of that white powder you're so fond of."

Vinny blanched, looking shamefaced while Meghann gave him an I told you so look.

"Of course your recreational activities are none of my concern though as I recall, narcotics were at the root of all your woes when we met," Simon said to his pale, trembling employee.

The mortal flinched and Meghann saw a flurry of images whiz through his mind Vinny sitting in a jail cell thinking there were only two choices left to him, testify against his friends in exchange for immunity on the kilos of cocaine he'd been caught red-handed with or keep his mouth shut and rot away in a federal prison for the rest of his life. Then a third choice presented itself when an anonymous benefactor paid his bail thirty-five years of service to a vampire, at the end of which time he'd be transformed.

"Of course," Simon went on, "I am not at all concerned that you'll betray my secrets to evade a deserved punishment but I will warn you that if the drug impairs your ability to carry out your duties, I'll have to dismiss you."

There were no pink slips in that fiend's service, Meghann thought while Vinny slunk out of the house. Vinny would be dismissed into a hole in the ground.

Meghann glared pointedly at the strong hand gripping her forearm, but Simon made no move to release her.

"I wasn't kidding around before," Meghann finally said after several minutes of tense staring. "I am meeting Charles and Lee at a club they think it's high time I found someone and so do I. Now, kindly release me. I don't want to be late."

Meghann met his eyes and waited for the dire threats against her or any man she'd take to her bed. Let him say it, Meghann thought, spoiling for a fight. Let him make some hideous chauvinistic comment or try and detain me . . . Oh, how Meghann wanted him to do just one of those things so she could yell out all the fury she'd felt from the moment she saw Louise on his arm.

But all Simon said was, "How can you leave yet? You haven't opened any of your presents."

Meghann's shoulders actually sagged at the anticlimactic response but she rallied quickly and gave him her own nonchalant reply. "Maybe I don't want any of them. You should give them to that streetwalker instead."

The gifts were no surprise to Meghann. During their stormy, thirteen-year romance, Simon used to love to surprise her with presents sometimes to make up for reprehensible conduct but more often the gifts were simply one of Simon's more tender gestures toward her.

"I'd give them to a leper colony before I handed her a tribute. At least look before you reject your gifts."

Simon urged and put a sleek gold shopping bag filled with beautifully wrapped presents at her feet.

"Fine," Meghann said, resigned to the notion that she wasn't going to get past him until she opened the gifts. She held her hand out and said, "Give me my presents."

Simon used her hand to pull her against him and then placed his other hand at the small of her back, imprisoning her against him. "Do you mind if I take a small token for myself first?" Simon bent his head, barely grazing her lips when he leaned down to kiss her.

"Honeyed fruit," Simon murmured, running his tongue over her lips. "When I first kissed you, I thought that was your taste sweet with an unexpected tanginess underneath."

Meghann wasn't thinking of fruit when his lips came down on hers. Push him away, part of her mind urged, but the thought of protest was quickly drowned out by the tongue that teased at the corners of her mouth, the firm lips that made her own part slightly under their gentle onslaught.

Meghann's hands lifted of their own accord, quickly stripping Simon of the Brioni silk necktie and undoing most of the b.u.t.tons on his pinstripe shirt while she wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her tongue over his blood teeth, making him moan and crush her against him so her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were flattened against his chest.

At last, Simon came up for air, smiling at her flushed cheeks and overbright eyes. "Now, what is all this foolishness about going to a club?"

"Club?" she repeated before his words and the triumphant smirk penetrated her pleasure-addled mind. "What do you think that this is some corny romance movie and you can just kiss me into blindly following your will? I hate you!"

Simon laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. "I merely wished to show you other uses for that sharp tongue of yours. Now, why don't you open your gifts or shall I resort to the maneuvers of cheap movies and see if another kiss doesn't make you more amenable?" At Meghann's stiff nod, Simon laughed again and reached into the shopping bag to hand her a small black jeweler's box.

Meghann felt shaken and horribly confused. Part of her wanted to tell him what he could do with both his kisses and his presents and another part wanted to rip off her dress and throw herself at him. Every time they met lately, she had such conflicting thoughts and left his company in a state of unsatisfied irritation, with an ache inside that never went away.

Was she being silly, thinking all integrity and conscience would be lost because of one romp in bed? Would it be so horrible to be with Simon just one night where right and wrong were merely words and she wasn't burdened by a code of ethics that never got her anything she wanted anyway?

"Meghann."

She looked up, and didn't pull away when Simon reached for her hand. He makes my name sound like a caress, she thought.

"Meghann," he repeated softly. "Don't look so downcast. You are quite right what does your struggle to live up to my uncle's piety give you except an aching heart when you deny your true nature? Sweetheart, put the battle for good and evil out of your mind and enjoy the evening. Open your present."

Meghann popped open the small black jeweler's box she was sure contained a ring of some kind but her eager expression changed to one of horrified outrage when she saw its contents.

"Eeeck!" she yelled and flung the box through the French doors at the end of the room, putting a round, gaping hole in the tinted gla.s.s.

"Meghann," Simon said with a look of perplexed confusion on his face.

"Didn't you say you'd rather wear a water bug on your finger than the ring I gave you? I only wanted to please you."

"You know I hate bugs," she said, giving a quick shudder at the thought of the two-inch-long vile insect she'd just stared at. She stood up and gave Simon a freezing glare. "I'm leaving."

"You won't do anything of the kind." Simon laughed, pulling her back down.

"You haven't finished opening your presents."

"What else is in there snakes? No, thank you."

"Stop pouting," he said and handed her a flat, gray box with the Cartier insignia on it. "I simply wanted to repay your harsh words. Now, open your present."

"You open it."

"With pleasure." Simon undid the clasp, revealing a wide gold bracelet, amethysts, rubies, and emeralds interspersed through it in the cabochon style he knew she loved.

"Thank you," she said coolly and put the bracelet on. "It's very pretty."

"Not half as pretty as you," Simon told her and reached into the bag for a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper.

Meghann tore off the paper and gasped at the oil painting before her.

"It's wonderful," she said softly, running a cautious hand over the exquisite painting of herself. "Who did it?"

"Who else could know your expression at that precise moment?"

Meghann gaped at him. "You but, Simon, this is a work of art! I never knew you could paint."

Simon smiled at the compliment. "After Alcuin chased me from England, I spent a few decades in Italy it would be impossible to live there any length of time and not be inspired to pursue artistic endeavors. Too, immortality means we have all the time in the world to develop talents we might never discover in the short lifespan of a mortal. Do you remember the scene of the painting, little one?"

"Of course," Meghann told him, settling into the crook of his arm. "We'd been together what? Five years? That night was the first time I woke up during sunset the first time it wasn't pitch-black outside when I opened my eyes."

Meghann could still remember her excitement, how she had nearly cried with delight when she opened the shuttered windows and saw the rose sky fading to purple. To see natural light again, the world lit up by the slowly setting sun instead of streetlights. She'd thrown her clothes on in a frenzy, imploring Simon to hurry, hurry, hurry! She had to get outside before it was completely dark.

She remembered Simon's soft laugh as she had pulled him out of the hotel and onto the crowded Paris street. "Patience, little one. This is not your last sunrise.

Your powers are evolving that is why you're starting to wake up earlier."

Meghann had all but floated down the street, not even seeing the famous Arc de Triumphe she was far too entranced by the dying sunlight on the sidewalk.

"How come the sun can't kill us now?"

Simon had laughed again and pulled her against him, putting his finger to her lips. Be discreet, little one. Dusk doesn't harm all vampires but you must be cautious. If you awaken when the sun first starts to set, don't rush outside you could get second-degree burns all over your body.

"Did that ever happen to you?" Meghann had asked him aloud. Before he was able to reply, though, she'd noticed a hat vendor across the street and rushed across the boulevard, ignoring the annoyed horns. She had grabbed the hat she favored off a dummy and stroked it lovingly. It was a beautiful creation a large, floppy picture hat reminiscent of the beach hats of the early twenties. The deep-crowned hat was made from moss-green linen, with a dark green hatband of watered silk and a wide brim Meghann pulled up at the front.

"Perfectionnez pour rouges les cheveux," the vendeuse had approved, nodding at Meghann's bright red hair.

"Non, non," Meghann had said hastily when the woman handed her a small silver mirror. "Je sais qu'il est beau."

The vendeuse had brushed aside Meghann's protest that she knew the hat was beautiful. "Mais vous devez vous voir, mademoiselle."

"Non necessaire, Madame," Simon had said smoothly, waving the mirror away. "Je suis son miroir. N'est-ce pas, ma belle?"

Meghann had smiled up at him, thinking he was indeed her mirror. She knew she looked beautiful by the frank appreciation shining in his eyes. "I love you," she had told him and kissed him lightly.

And that's what Simon painted that moment when she smiled at him. It was a masterful painting, Meghann thought. She couldn't detect any brushstrokes, and the way he'd fleshed out every detail was superb the small shadow across her face, the wispy strands of red hair peeking from the brim of the hat but the true genius of the portrait was the way Simon had captured her expression. How did he get that sparkle into her eyes, paint that dazzling smile that made her look so beautiful?