The Other Side Of Midnight - Page 5

“Hmmm… I wonder if you are in the wrong career path. Don’t you think you’d do better as a novelist?”

“Well, if I was a novelist, I would say, be careful. He sounds like a dark one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just the vibes I get from you. I get the feeling he’s disturbed you, and not just about the money. There’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I can’t get him out of my mind and I really, really, really want to go to bed with him, but at the same time I’m scared to. There is an air of danger about him, something unknowable about him.”

“When you say unknowable, I’m hoping you don’t mean rapist/serial killer unknowable.”

“No, no, nothing like that. He is too beautiful, mysterious, and magnetic. I can’t imagine a woman saying no to him.”

“Here’s what I would do if I was you. When you see Larry tomorrow ask him all about this guy. Get all the details. If he is legit and he asks you to, then go out with him to a very public place. I’ll call you while you’re out and you can loudly say you’re having dinner with him. That way he will understand that if anything happens to you, the police will be on to him immediately. If he turns out to be dodgy in any way at all just walk away.”

My stomach churns as I say the words. “No, I won’t go out with him.”

“Why not?”

“I cannot explain it in words, but there is something about him that scares me. That I could fall too deep and never recover.”

“Wow! I’ve never heard you talk like this before.”

“I’ve never felt this way before.”

“I’m the one who is more reserved and cautious of the two of us, but you know what? If such a man appeared in my life, I would go for it. I would risk a broken heart because otherwise I would spend the rest of my life thinking what if…”

Chapter 4

Rocco

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkADj0TPrJA

-In The Air Tonight-

I put the top down on the custom-built Bugatti, and the cold air rushes through my hair as I press down hard on the clutch and make it fly up the road that winds around the mountain.

The road has been deliberately built in a way to make it impossible for the curious person to come up it. To start with you can’t use an ordinary car. It is so narrow in some places an ordinary car will end up with its wheels hanging off the cliff. Other places have potholes so big it becomes downright dangerous to try and maneuver around them. You have to know where they are or you will get stuck.

My privacy is very important to me. I need solitude the way other people need friends. Of course, I have houses in cities all over the world, but I always come back here. To this house high on the mountain top, and shrouded in mist for most of the year. It is my sanctuary.

I pull up to the black cast iron gates, wave my remote, and they part for me. I slow down to a crawl on the cobblestone driveway, and soon arrive at the impressive entrance. It took five years for three craftsmen from Europe to intricately carve the blocks of sandstone imported from Italy.

There is light blazing from most of the downstairs windows.

As I reach the double door, William opens it for me. He is English and has a pale, poker face. He is exactly what one would imagine a butler to look like. Stiff, polite, distant, impossibly efficient. He also speaks only when absolutely necessary. A quality I appreciate greatly. That, and his unceasing loyalty to me. My other staff come and go, but William alone has been with me for longer than anyone else.

He nods gravely. “Good evening, my Lord. Your sister is waiting for you in the music room.”

I feel an old fury rush through me like lightning, but I instantly catch myself. There is absolutely no way Isadora can know about Autumn. No way at all. I must calm down, get complete control of myself, and not let her see that anything has changed. I stride towards the music room and find her sitting on the yellow chaise lounge. A furry white dog is curled up in her lap. She has a drink in one hand. She searches my gaze. I know what she is looking for. I feign boredom and head towards the bar.

“Where have you been?” she asks, arching one blonde eyebrow. “I’ve been waiting for ages.”

As I pour myself a drink I hear her petulant voice float towards me.

“You know you’re meant to pick up the phone when it rings, especially when it rings… a thousand times.”

Instantly, I run out of patience. Throwing the brandy down my throat I start to walk out of the room.

Tags: Georgia Le Carre Vampires
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