Мишель Роуэн - Stakes & Stilettos

She'd left him. His throat felt suddenly tight at the thought. He'd always feared that the day would come that she would see him for the man he truly was and that she would turn her back on him forever. However, he had never realized how much it would hurt.

He'd believed that she was different. That perhaps she wouldn't leave. That perhaps she was someone he could finally, at long last, open his heart to.

That perhaps the fortune teller from so long ago had been right.

Sarah Dearly was so incredibly wrong for him. So different. So young and sweet.

It had surprised him to hear such cruel things from her beautiful lips, although he had to agree that a great deal of it was very true and needed to be said. Perhaps he should have tried to defend himself, but from what? He had hurt her. That was the truth. His fortune was drained, although not nearly as much as she seemed to think. His stubborn, estranged wife—who had her own life on a separate continent—refused to give him the freedom to truly commit to their new relationship.

All true. And all reasons for harsh words.

He leaned back in his leather chair behind the desk that would no longer be his as of tomorrow.

Sarah had always claimed to him that she once wanted to be an actress of stage and screen, but it had never worked out for her. He'd always wondered why.

But now he finally knew.

Sarah Dearly was a horrible actress.

Horrible.

Completely and absolutely dreadful in every way.

She had lied to him tonight. Completely and shamelessly.

Instead of making him angry, this realization made him happier than he had felt in centuries, if not ever.

She loved him. Of everything in his long difficult life, of this he had no doubt. His money meant nothing to her. If it had, she would have accepted his many attempts to give her spending money and then asked for more.

He loved her so deeply it made his heart ache.

She'd made every day a gift instead of a curse. Before he'd met her he'd believed that he had nothing left to live for. But now he knew that he was wrong. Now he lived for her and the promise of a future together.

It was all very clear.

It was also very clear that she was being coerced into her current actions. Forced to leave him. He frowned deeply at the thought.

It couldn't have been Veronique's doing. Of this, too, he was certain. Veronique might have many faults, but she wasn't an evil woman.

No, something else had happened. Something that had scared Sarah so badly that she had no choice but to lie to him. He had considered calling her on this during her tirade of hurtful words but had decided against it.

Something had happened. Someone else was involved with this, and he was willing to bet that it had to do with the false Red Devil.

He had threatened Sarah. It was obvious. She was afraid.

The thought made him furious. Whoever was responsible would be very sorry.

He picked up the eternity band from where she'd left it on his desk and slid it into his front jacket pocket.

Sarah had told him that she didn't love him. That it was over between them once and for all.

He'd once wished for this—for her to walk away from him and not look back. Only a short time ago he wouldn't have fought for her; fought for their relationship and for a future together. But that was before he realized how very much he loved her.

A small grin of determination turned up the side of Thierry's mouth.

He was different now.

"How did it go, Sarah?"

Gideon's low voice in the darkness of the alley outside Haven startled me. I raised my damp eyeballs in his direction expecting to see him grinning or looking proud of himself for what he'd made me do.

Instead he simply looked at me. The black scarf was wrapped around his scarred face again so all I could see were his eyes, but that was enough for me to know that he wasn't smiling.

Neither was I. To say the least.

"How the hell do you think it went?" I managed.

He studied me for a moment longer. "You've done the right thing. I will assume he didn't question your decision to end your relationship?"

I swallowed past the large lump in my throat. "No, he didn't. Are you happy now?"

"This doesn't make me happy."

"Sure. I believe that." I started to move past him, but he stepped in front of me to block my path.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home. To bed."

"Is it safe for you to be out all alone like this?"

"The leader of the vampire hunters is concerned that little old fanged me is going to get home safely? How sweet of you." I could practically taste the venom in the words. I took a deep breath and faced him again. "I agreed to sire you in two weeks. Does that mean I have to put up with you constantly being around between then and now? Because if I have a choice, I'd rather you stay as far away from me as possible and mind your own goddamned business about what I do."

He blinked. "I'm not leaving. I'll give you your space, of course, but don't think that I won't be near and well aware of whatever you do. There's too much at risk for me to give you too much freedom."

I wiped at my tears, which had turned from grief to frustration. "I did what you asked—I broke up with Thierry for good. On Valentine's Day. Now I just want to be alone tonight.

Do you think you could do that for me, you scarred son of a bitch?"

His green eyes glittered. "Since you put it so politely, I suppose that's only fair.

Goodnight, Sarah. I'll see you again soon."

He stepped to the side to let me pass.

I wanted to give him the finger, or possibly kill him where he stood, but I didn't have the energy. Instead, I slowly walked away, out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, all the way to George's, with my now-blistered, screaming-in-pain feet the only things to keep me company.

An hour later I was in bed with the lights off, and I tried to will myself to go to sleep.

Maybe my life wouldn't seem quite so hopeless tomorrow, although I seriously doubted it.

Not too surprisingly, I couldn't get to sleep. I would take a few over-the-counter sleeping pills, but drugs, unless they were of the garlic-dart variety, didn't work on vampires.

Garlic sleeping pills for vampires, I thought absently. That quite possibly could be a million-dollar idea.

I lay awake, my attention on the dark ceiling above me, as I went over everything that had gone wrong in my life.

Never should have gone on that blind date, I decided. That's where the trouble had begun.

If I hadn't, the obsessive creep wouldn't have bitten me so we could be "together forever."

He wouldn't have turned me into a vampire. I wouldn't have been chased by vampire hunters.

And I never would have met Thierry.

If I hadn't met Thierry, he would have gone ahead and staked himself on the bridge that night, his remains falling into the river below to be washed away. He wouldn't have had to save me. He wouldn't have felt this solemn need to protect me ever since—which obviously was what I had confused for romantic feelings. He would never have even been a blip on my radar and my life wouldn't have been completely ruined.

I'd be the same Sarah I used to be—a fashion-loving, apartment-dwelling, party-going personal assistant with no direction in her life.

But I didn't want to be that Sarah anymore. Being a vampire had changed me, but not all of the changes were bad ones. At least, I didn't think so.

If I hadn't become a vampire I never would have met George or Quinn. Amy never would have met and married Barry.

And then, of course, there was Thierry.

I wanted these horrible feelings to turn into anger against him. That would be helpful. But

I just felt empty and so very sad. I know he was difficult, overbearing, judgmental, and jealous, but he was also generous, wonderful, sweet, protective, and passionate.