She snapped the front clasp on a particularly fetching champagne lace bra and was pulling on a fresh pair of jeans when the security intercom sounded its discordant buzz. Someone was at the door downstairs in the garage. Cynthia stared at the offending intercom for a few seconds, then grabbed a sweater, pulling it over her head while she walked down the hall to her office. The security setup here at home was very much like the one at her Santa Monica office, except this one actually had a wider angle lens. That was a flaw in her Santa Monica security she intended to remedy very soon. She was still spooked over the ease with which Raphael and Duncan had slipped in after Lonnie. If it had been someone else, someone who meant her harm, things could have gotten really ugly really fast.
She brought up the display, muttering under her breath, “If that's you, Holly, you can turn right around and go back to Chuck, because this hotel is closed for the duration.” What she found instead stopped her cold.
Duncan turned and looked directly at the camera as she turned on the monitor, as if he heard the tiny click from two stories above. His blond hair was freshly slicked back and he wore what she now recognized was a uniform of sorts for Raphael's security people—charcoal gray suit, but with a black shirt and pewter tie this evening. He looked quite good, actually, and on anyone else she would have appreciated the view. She took in the scene behind him and saw at least two other vamps standing near an open limo door. She pressed the intercom button with an audible sigh.
"Duncan. Why am I not surprised?"
"Ms. Leighton,” he answered with a short nod. “You did say it was urgent."
"So I did. You could have called, you know. I have my own car."
"My master insisted."
"Doesn't he always. Okay, look. I'll buzz you in, but you'll have to wait downstairs for a minute. I'm not ready—"
"Don't be coy, Ms. Leighton.” The vampire's expression tightened in irritation. “You have to invite us in."
Cynthia's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she was glad the vampire couldn't see her expression. So that part was true. But wait...?
"You didn't have a problem barging into my office the other night."
"Your office is a business, Ms. Leighton. Many people come and go. This is your home, and Lord Raphael's patience is limited. Invite us in immediately."
"Are you saying Raphael is down there waiting? He's in the limo?” And what a terrible thought that was.
Duncan was positively glowering. “You will invite us in now, Ms. Leighton."
Cynthia stared at the monitor. She really didn't want a bunch of vampires traipsing around her home. On the other hand, she could hardly refuse the local vampire lord, who also happened to be her client. She smiled. “You know, I don't think so, Duncan.” She raised her voice. “Lord Raphael, you are invited into my home."
She heard male laughter just before Raphael unfolded his studly self from the limo with sinuous grace. He walked up behind Duncan and she could see the flashes of silver in his eyes even over the fibre optic connection of her security camera.
"Sire, you cannot!"
"Of course, I can, Duncan. Ms. Leighton doesn't mean me any harm.” His gaze pierced her soul, even through the camera. “Do you, Cyn?"
Cyn caught her breath, suddenly reliving the erotic dreams that had jolted her out of sleep this morning. He smiled and she felt her skin shiver with desire. “Shit,” she whispered.
"Cyn?"
"Yes, sorry. I mean, no, of course I won't harm, I mean I don't intend to...” She shut up and pushed the button, hearing a loud thunk over the intercom as the magnetic lock released.
Raphael's dark bulk blocked the camera as he moved past, then Duncan was glaring up at her fiercely. “If any harm comes to my master, I will make your torment and that of all your family my personal mission, Cynthia Leighton."
"Geez, Duncan,” she said, enjoying the chance to breathe normally again. “Overdramatize much? This wasn't my idea, remember. You're the ones who showed up uninvited. Besides, I hardly think Raphael needs protection from me. More like the other way around,” she added to herself.
"You've been warned,” he intoned.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She released the intercom button with a shake of her head and realized her hair was still wet from the shower. Damn. She raced out of her office, intending to do a quick blow dry and pull on some shoes, and nearly ran into Raphael in the hallway. A little shriek of surprise came out before she could stop it.
Raphael caught her with both hands, his cool fingers curling over her arms and gliding down to stroke her palms before finally letting go.
"Raphael!” she blurted out. “I mean, Lord Raphael ... I thought you'd wait—"
"I did wait, Cyn. I grew tired of waiting.” He turned and walked into her bedroom, past the jumble of sheets on her unmade bed, strolling over to the window to pull back the curtains and let in the night sky.
She hurried after him. “I still have to ... I mean you would probably be more comfortable—"
"I'm comfortable here.” He turned to study her, his lids dropping over black eyes in a long, slow blink before he leaned forward, nearly touching her as he drew in a long breath. He smiled slightly. “It's your shampoo."
"What?"
"Your shampoo. I detected a very faint scent the other night. You don't wear perfume. It's your shampoo."
"Oh. Yes, I guess so.” Cynthia tried to focus, but it was so hard with this incredibly sexy man—okay, vampire—standing there smelling her hair and smiling like he'd like to do a great deal more. He's a vampire, Cynthia! She sucked in a stabilizing breath and took two steps away from him, reminding herself she was a professional and this was her client. “Give me a moment.” She managed another step. “I need to put on some shoes."
He glanced down at her bare feet with their brightly polished toes, and then let his gaze travel lazily over her body and back to her face. She almost got down on her knees and begged him to fuck her right there. Just get it over with so she could become a rational human being again, a woman who ran her own affairs and her own life and didn't throw herself at the feet of any man. She felt the words pressing against the back of her throat and ran.
When she returned, her hair was—almost—dry and she was wearing a pair of no-nonsense Frye boots with a sensible, solid heel that made her feel tough and in control. She faltered for the space of a breath when she came out of her walk-in closet to find Raphael still standing at the window. His broad shoulders were outlined in black against the moon spangled ocean beyond the glass, and she knew exactly how his eyes would look if he turned. She steeled herself against his natural seduction. He probably wasn't even aware of it, it was so much a part of who and what he was.
"Lord Raphael,” she said firmly, and then she tried again. “I do think you'd be more comfortable downstairs."
"No. I like it here.” He turned his head then, his eyes lingering over the tumbled bed before giving her a sidelong gaze. “Don't you? Downstairs is your public space, Cyn. It is not you. This—” He gestured around him. “This is your nest."
She frowned. He was right, dammit. “I didn't call you here—well, I didn't call you here at all—but it wasn't to discuss my housing arrangements, my lord,” she began as she crossed to the window where he stood. “I reviewed all of the footage from the day of the abduction. Based on what I found, I was either much more thorough than whoever you had doing it, or you have another mole in your organization."
Raphael spun around gracefully, like a dancer on a stage. “And what did you find, Cyn?” he inquired.
"Five bad guys came through the main gate that morning, my lord, but only three went out. If I'm right, you have two intruders who are no doubt infiltrated among your security staff. Most probably, they were already working for you and simply slipped away after helping their buddies get through the security at the gate. They were wearing masks, of course, so we can't identify them from the video, but I'd like to schedule the rest of the interviews with your human employees and try to weed them out. They're probably still feeding information to whoever paid them in the first place. As far as the abduction goes, they would know security was light with only Alexandra in residence. They would know all of the routines—when the vamps went down for the day, how many human guards would be on duty and where. Not to mention any ... relaxation of performance that might have occurred in your absence."
Raphael's eyes flashed and she hurried on. “It happens in every organization, my lord. At least among humans. When weeks and months go by with no threat, there's a tendency to relax, to be less vigilant. And with the big boss—that would be you—gone, it would have been even more lax. These two men would have known this, would have known whom to count on to be particularly slow, especially in the morning."
Raphael whipped a small cell phone from his pocket and hit a speed dial number. Cyn could hear it ringing downstairs below the deck. She stepped outside and found Duncan on the beach, staring up at the condo, cell phone to his ear. He stared at her unblinkingly as he spoke to Raphael, then disconnected and immediately dialed another number, giving her his back before speaking. Cyn went back inside.
"Duncan will take care of it,” Raphael assured her. “I should know by morning who these spies are. No one has been permitted to leave the estate since the abduction. Whoever they are, they're still there."
"Well, that's good. Now what about the guy who reviewed the footage in the first place, or was supposed to? Either he did a bad job, or he intentionally left out that little detail. I don't remember talking to anyone like that the other night, so we should talk to him too."
"Ah. That would be Gregoire. He was lately in charge of Alexandra's security detail."