Night's Mistress (Children of The Night 5)

“Whatever you want,” he said, his voice cool.

“Logan, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay . . .”

He held up his hand. “Don’t even go there! You don’t owe me a damn thing,” he said curtly. “Come on, I’ll help you pack. The sooner you get out of here, the better.”

“Logan . . .”

“You know where I live if it doesn’t work out.”

Without waiting to see if she followed or not, he turned on his heel and headed for the bedroom. He didn’t want her to go, but he’d be damned if he would beg her to stay.

Chapter Twenty-three

Kyle shook his head as he stared at Mara’s house. House! It was more like a mansion. Located in the Hollywood Hills, it rose up from the ground like a giant bird of prey about to take flight.

“This is yours?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Mara said, unlocking the front door. “Do you like it?”

“What’s not to like? You didn’t tell me you were rich.”

She shrugged as she stepped over the threshold and switched on the lights. “It didn’t occur to me.”

Kyle followed her inside, pausing under the high arch that led into the spacious living room. The first thing he noticed was one of the paintings he had done of her hanging over the fireplace. He studied it for several moments. It was the best thing he had ever done. He glanced at Mara, then back at the painting. She looked the same as she had when he’d painted her portrait, and yet she didn’t. Her skin was a little less translucent, her hair a little less lustrous. But it was more than that. He studied the painting a moment longer before he realized what it was. The vampire glamour she had once exuded was missing.

Moving into the room, he whistled softly. He had been in some swanky homes in his time, but nothing quite like this. The walls, carpets, and twin sofas were white. A tall, slender Egyptian vase was filled with red silk flowers. A couple of red throw pillows and a trio of red tapers in a wrought-iron candelabra added additional splashes of color to the room.

He crossed the floor to get a closer look at a glass-fronted curio cabinet that housed a variety of knickknacks, all with a decidedly Egyptian flavor. A large landscape that depicted the Nile River beneath a bloodred moon hung on the wall across from the cabinet.

“Mind if I light a fire?” he asked.

“That would be nice,” Mara said, and tried not to remember that she had once been able to ignite a fire with a mere wave of her hand. “Make yourself at home,” she said. “I’m going upstairs to change.”

It was good to be back, Mara thought as she climbed the stairs. Of all the houses she owned, this was one of her favorites, the other being her hideaway in the mountains.

She would have to buy a mirror or two, she thought. Perhaps a gilt-edged one for the living room, a full-length one for her bedroom, and an oval one for the wall behind the sink in the bathroom.

She came to an abrupt halt when she opened her bedroom door. She wouldn’t have to buy a mirror for this room, after all. The beautiful antique oak looking-glass that Logan had bought for her stood in the corner.

Blinking back her tears, she sank down on the edge of the bed. Murmuring, “Oh, Logan,” she buried her face in her hands and wept. She cried because she didn’t want to be human again, because she was afraid she would be a terrible mother, because Kyle loved her and she was afraid she didn’t really love him. She cried because she missed Logan, because, of all the men she had known in her lengthy existence, he was the only one who truly understood her and loved her anyway.

Lifting a corner of the bedspread, she wiped the tears from her eyes. She had made her decision and she would live with it. She was mortal and pregnant and Kyle loved her. She had thought herself in love with him, but she knew now that it had only been infatuation. She was in love with Logan. Maybe she had always been in love with him, but once again, she had walked away from him, left him because she couldn’t bear to live with a man who was now stronger and more powerful than she was. She was jealous of his preternatural powers. It was too painful to be with him, to be constantly reminded of the supernatural abilities she had once taken for granted and no longer possessed.

Shaking off her melancholy, she undressed and then, deciding a bath sounded relaxing, she slipped into her robe and went into the bathroom to fill the tub.

When it was full, she tossed her robe aside. Muttering, “You’re as big as a whale,” she stepped carefully into the water.

Closing her eyes, Mara rested her hands on her belly and tried to imagine what the baby looked like. She couldn’t wait to hold her son in her arms. Perhaps she would name him after Cleopatra’s one true love.

“Antony,” she murmured. It was a nice name, a strong name, but one that held so many unhappy memories.

“You’re frowning.”

Opening her eyes, Mara looked up to see Kyle standing in the doorway. For centuries she had lived alone, bestowing her favors on those who pleased her, never giving away her heart, never letting anyone get close to her, running away whenever any of her lovers became too important or too demanding. Why was it that now, when she had lost her powers and apparently her ability to make a decision, she was attracted to two men? Men who were as different as night and day.

Her gaze moved over Kyle. He was almost as tall as Logan, though not as muscular. His hair was short and brown where Logan’s was long and black. Kyle’s eyes were gray, Logan’s were dark brown. Each was handsome in his own way, although no mortal could hope to compete with a vampire’s preternatural allure.

“I brought your suitcases upstairs in case you want to unpack later.”

“Thank you.”

He folded his arms over his chest, then rested one shoulder against the doorjamb. His gaze moved over her in a long, lingering glance filled with uncertainty and desire.

Mara blushed under his lustful gaze.

“Would you like me to wash your back?” he asked, his voice suddenly thick.

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “If you like.” Logan wouldn’t have asked, she thought with a pang. He would have climbed into the tub with her.

She smiled inwardly as she watched Kyle walk toward her. One thing she loved about men was that they were unable to hide their lust. It was easy to see that Kyle was aroused by the sight of her reclining in a tub amid a froth of scented bubbles.

She grinned inwardly. Perhaps he had a thing for whales.

He dropped to his knees beside the bathtub and then, taking up the soap, he washed her back, then her shoulders and her neck.