Chapter Eight
The vampire just wouldn’t shut up. The fairy giggled at ever suggestion of a three some and how much fun it could be, but Alexandra was just disgusted with his vulgar invitations. She pulled away from him but he caught her wrist. Eyes narrowed, she stared at him. “You’re about to get your fangs pulled. Let me go. Now!”
The vampire smiled. A large arm reached over Alexandra’s shoulder and a hand wrapped around the vampire’s throat. “I believe the lady asked you to remove your hands from her person.”
The vampire gasped and released her.
Alexandra turned around. She knew who she would see. Dareios had pulled off his mask and his hat. His face had hardened. He didn’t look like the easy-going party guy she knew. He looked dangerous. Hands up, the vampire backed off and headed into the crowd.
The fairy watched him, and turned back to give Dareios a warm smile. “Some muscles you’ve got.”
Alexandra wanted to punch the fairy now. Instead, Dareios stepped in front of her and swept out a gesture. “Join me back in the booth.”
It wasn’t a question, and Alexandra didn’t feel like she had any choice. She could see the entrance, but Dareios was between her and it, and he wasn’t looking in any kind of mood to let her go. As if he knew what she was thinking, he stepped close and said, “Don’t even think about it, Alexandra. We are going to talk and then I will decide if I’m going to call Antonio.”
Alexandra’s shoulders slumped, but she crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine. But remember, I am an adult and I make my own decisions.”
“Fair enough.” Dareios extending an arm again toward the booth they had occupied earlier.
Alexandra headed that way. She wished she still felt like a goddess, but this was probably how Athena had felt when Zeus came down on her. She slid into the booth. Dareios slid into the other side, opposite her. Darn it! He’s already trying to put distance between us!
She scooted closer toward him.
He put his hands on the table and stared at her for several long moments. She met his stare and refused to back down. Instead, she tried to see all the imperfections—his slightly crooked nose from a skiing accident when he and Antonio were in the early teens, the tiny mole near his left ear, his hair sticking up. None of it was helping. Her pulse still quickened. She was still too aware of the glimpse of chest she could see under the black silk shirt. And his eyes were far too blue—and blazing hot.
“Okay, talk to me. What are you doing in Milan? And will you take off that damn mask?”
Alexandra put her chin up. She didn’t take off the mask, but she licked her lips and tried to come up with something to say that would justify her presence in Club Senza. “Eva and I—”
“Eva?” Dareios swore and looked around the nightclub. “Where is she? I can’t believe you brought your sister—”
“Relax.” Alexandra reached across the table and laid a hand on his forearm. “I would never bring Eva in here. She’s back at the hotel.”
Dareios pulled away. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why Milan? And why did you try to make me think you weren’t who you are. And will you please take off that mask?”
Slowly, she reached up and undid her mask. In truth, it felt good to get it off. She also pulled off the wig. She fluffed her sweat-matted hair and shook it out. “Eva wants to go to art school. We came over to check out some universities.”
Dareios gave a snort. “Is that what you told Antonio?” His expression relaxed and he gave a laugh, a real one. “Of course you did. He’s so caught up in Claire and being a new husband, he didn’t even think about your trip. I don’t suppose he remembered to tell Eva her acceptance letter came from the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris.”
“What?” Alexandra sat up. “Really? Eva has always loved Paris. To go to school there would be