The Darkest Kiss (Riley Jenson Guardian 6)

"You're on table five, Miss Jenson. Just walk down this hall until you see the gentleman in black," she said, handing me back the card, the ticket, and a receipt. "He'll direct you to the right table."

"Thanks."

She gave me another warm smile. "My pleasure."

I continued on down the hall. Music wafted in from the other room, classical and soothing in sound. Voices ebbed and flowed around it, suggesting there were at least a hundred or so people inside.

The door guard gave me a smile as I approached. I handed him the ticket and he scanned it through a machine. As the door swung open, he handed me back the ticket. "Table five is around to the left, in the corner," he said. "Have a nice evening."

"Thanks. I will."

I shoved the ticket into my purse, then headed in. One thing struck me straightaway - Sparkies lived up to its name. Sparkles abounded - in the glint of the ornate chandeliers, in the chrome and glass that reflected back the flickering candles that adorned each table, even in the silver and gold thread that ran through the tablecloths and chairs.

The scents that had been evident outside bloomed to full significance. Human, shifter, and vampire vied for prominence with the flowery assault of perfume and the richer tones of aftershave, creating a cauldron of aromas that had my senses reeling.

How the hell was I going to pick any particular scent out of this?

I blew out a breath and looked around. There were plenty of people sitting at the dozen or so tables that lined the room, but there were also many more standing around the dance floor chatting. Even so, the room looked half empty. Maybe the trendy people arrived fashionably late.

I scanned the table numbers until I found mine. There were a couple of old biddies sitting there, but as they weren't likely to be either Enna Free or my murderer, I wasn't about to head over there until I absolutely had to.

Instead, I headed right, walking around the edges of the room, trying to sort through the riot of scents and track down the one that would lead me to my suspect.

I might as well have been searching for a needle in a haystack.

I was on my way back to my table when awareness hit and sent a heated wave of desire fleeing across my skin.

I stopped, my heart pounding so hard I swear it was going to tear out of my chest. There had only ever been one man who had caused that sort of reaction in me - Quinn O'Conor, ancient vampire, billionaire businessman, and former lover.

I should have guessed he might have been here, because he always seemed to support major charity events like this. But it had been so long since we'd crossed paths that I simply hadn't thought about it.

And if I had, what would I have done?

Not come, a voice deep inside whispered.

Maybe. Maybe not. I was no coward, after all, and I'd faced far worse things than a vampire determined to make me his own - even if he broke my heart and my soul in the process.

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking deep, slow breaths that did little to calm the erratic dance of my pulse, then slowly turned around.

I'd never really believed the line in romance books that said, "Their eyes met, and everything else faded away," but that's exactly what happened.

My gaze met Quinn's and everything else - everyone else - disappeared. It was just him and me in the glittery confines of this room, with this amazing sense of awareness burning between us as fiercely as any bushfire. It was an awareness that had always been there, even from the beginning, and absence had not tempered its flame. It had only made it stronger.

And oh, he looked so good. The simple elegance of his black suit emphasized not only the broadness of his shoulders but the lean power of his body. His night-dark hair was cut short and neat, but so thick and lush that my fingers itched with the need to run through it, as they had months ago when we were still lovers. Being an older vampire capable of standing quite a lot of sunlight, his skin held a warm, healthy tan rather than the pasty white that was common among most of them. And his eyes - his eyes had always captured me the most. They were vast wells of darkness that held his secrets and emotions well in check - too well, most of the time - and yet it was so easy to lose yourself in those endless depths. In all respects, he had the sort of looks that drew the eye time and again. Saying he was good-looking didn't even begin to do him justice.

For several more minutes, I did nothing, said nothing, just stood there staring at him, my skin burning and my heart racing.

Then he smiled, and it was such an achingly sweet smile that a shiver ran down my spine and desire spun like a fireball ready to explode all around me.

One touch, that was all that was needed.

One touch, and I was his.

But only a moment, not for eternity. I might want him as I'd wanted few others, but the past between us was laden with lies and mistrust, and it was not something that would ever be brushed aside easily.

He walked toward me, moving with an economy of movement that was both graceful and powerful. But it broke the spell, and suddenly there was noise and people and movement all around me.

I gripped my purse in front of me as if it were some sort of shield and forced a smile. "Fancy meeting you here."