"Besides," Isa whispered, waving Robert closer. She unzipped her purse and held it open so the contents were visible. "It may not be a good time right now."
Robert peered inside at the multiple tubes and then picked one up curiously.
"Vagisil," he read the label, his mouth twisting down. "For treatment of acute feminine itching and discharge—argh!"
He threw the Vagisil across the room as if it had grown into a hairy cockroach. Isa bit her lip to contain her laughter from the horrified look on Robert's face.
Ritchie gasped before dropping his gaze below her waist.
"What kind of nastiness do you have down there?"
Robert stalked over and punched him straight in the face. "That's my future wife you're talkin' to!" he snapped, though he also gave a look of dread at Isa's lower half.
She spun around and zipped her purse back up as if indignant. It helped that none of them could see her expression, because her lips couldn't stop twitching.
"It's not nastiness, it's a yeast infection," she info rmed them in a prim tone. "They're very common. After another week of treatment, it'll be gone, or so my doctor tells me. You remember the doctor's appointment I had last week, right, Robert? Well, this is what it was for. My doctor even put me on antibiotics to help ensure that the bacteria doesn't spread and turn into a urinary tract infection as well."
Lie number three. Isa had gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics, true, but that was for the sore throat she'd claimed to have. Then she'd bought every kind of over-the-counter yeast infection treatment available and stuffed it all in her purse, just waiting for the moment when Robert might try this.
"You…" Robert didn't seem to know what to say. Isa turned back to him, biting the inside of her cheeks hard to keep from grinning. Robert gave one more disgusted glance at Isa's purse before he continued.
"Get yourself fixed up, and call me if that mook comes back. I'll see you, uh, in a couple days."
Ritchie and Paul hurried after him. Only when Isa heard Robert's car pull away with a squeal of tires did she allow herself to break into a smile.
Her head chef Frank came out of the prep room. From his smile, he'd heard every word.
"You're one sadistic chick," he said admiringly.
Isa's grin widened. "Never underestimate the power of a woman." Then she patted her purse. "Or Vagisil."
* * *
Isa came out of her bathroom, toweling the wetness from her hair—and froze.
Chance was in her bedroom, one hand resting on her end table while the other stroked the fabric of the overstuffed chair he was sitting in.
"You don't lock your windows," he said chidingly.
Unbidden, her gaze went to the window and then back to him. She was on the fifth floor of a brownstone condo, and the fire escape had long been broken. How in the world…?
"Are you a freaky cat burglar or something? Well, sorry, because everything I've got is tied up in the restaurant."
He ceased stroking her chair with a half-smile. "I'm something, but it's not a cat burglar."
It occurred to Isa that the proper thing to do was call 911. Or scream for help. Or run into her bathroom and lock the door while doing all of the above. After all, this was a man she'd just met two days ago. He could be a mass murderer for all she knew. Maybe her grandmother had gotten him involved, but that didn't mean he was safe.
"So what are you?" she asked instead, tightening her robe around her. Good thing she hadn't just strolled out naked. That would have made this even more disconcerting than it already was.
Chance gave her a very serious look. "You're not ready to know what I am, so don't ask me that question when you don't really want a truthful answer to it."
Arrogant man. Where was her purse full of testosterone-repellent when she needed it?
"I could have you arrested for breaking and entering," she said, dropping the towel from her head.
Chance shrugged. "Go ahead, but then Robbery will hear I was in your house and he'll insist you stay with him. I don't think you want that, do you?"
Clever jerk. That's exactly what would happen, and no amount of Vagisil in the world would stop it. No, Isa didn't want that, and for some strange reason, she didn't think she was in any danger from Chance, so she wasn't going to call the police.
"All right. What do you want bad enough to break into my home for?"
"A chance to talk to you," he replied instantly. "It's so much nicer when—what did you call them?—Bowling Ball and Smelly aren't around to interrupt us."
A gorgeous, mysterious man broke into her bedroom because he wanted to talk? Isa rolled her eyes. Yep, that sounded like her luck.
"Well, Chance, it's two A.M. and I'm tired, so make it quick."
He stretched, rippling his muscles from shoulders to knees in one sinuating motion. Isa just stared. Wow. That was something she'd like to see again.
From the new tug at his mouth, he'd guessed her thoughts. Oh well. Isa was sure she wasn't the first woman to find that impressive.
"I'm going to stop this wedding and get your brother back unharmed," Chance said as mildly as if he were commenting on the weather. "But I'll need you to keep up your pretense of being Robert's fiancée in the meantime."
Yet another person to tell her that. Isa hadn't liked hearing it from her brother over two weeks ago, and it didn't sound any more enticing now.
"Of course you are. Then you're going to give me multiple orgasms and pay off my mortgage too. I saw this movie, pal. It was in the fantasy section."
The grin he flashed her was decadent. "Do I get to pick the order in which these things will occur? Because I do have a preference, Isabella."
There was that hint of green in his eyes again. It made her heart speed up, and when he gave her a slow up-and-down appraisal it made her feel warm all over. Like she was being caressed.
Chance inhaled with a long, deep breath that somehow seemed as intimate as a kiss. Self-consciously, Isa brushed her hair back from her forehead. Yes, it was definitely getting warmer in here.
"And just how are you going to get my brother back without getting him—and possibly me—killed in the process?" she asked, to distract herself from counting how long it had been since she'd had sex. Ugh, if she counted good sex, then she'd have to break out more of her old calendars than she cared to count.
"I'm going to find out where your brother is, and once I get him safely away, then I'm going to convince Robert that it's in the best interest of his health never to bother you or your family again."
Isa snorted in a very unfeminine fashion. "How? Are you a world-renowned hypnotist?"
Chance didn't laugh. "Something like that."
She stared for a different reason this time. He was serious. Good Lord, maybe he was a dangerous crazy person. Where had her grandmother dug him up from, anyway?
"You should go now," Isa said slowly. "And once again I'm going to tell you to stay out of this. You don't understand what Robert's like if you think you can hocus-pocus your way around him. He'll kill you. He'll bury you right next to Jimmy Hoffa and no one will ever find your body, got it?"
Chance sighed. "Would a demonstration make you feel better?"
Demonstration? "Um, of what, exactly?"
"My hocus-pocus abilities, as you call them."
Isa shifted. This was getting weirder by the minute. "Look, why don't you just go…"
"You can open your eyes now."
Isa blinked—and then jerked back in shock. She was on the chair with Chance. On his lap, to be more precise, with her arms around his neck and her mouth mere inches from his. Holy shit, how the hell did that happen?
* * *
Chance watched Isa scramble off him, her knuckles white as she clutched her robe. She backed away several feet, looking around her bedroom as if expecting to see someone else there.
"What did you do to me? How did I end up on your lap?" she demanded.
It would be so much easier to tell her the tru
th. To show her the truth, since once he said, "I'm a vampire," she'd just insist on proof anyway. But the suspicion in her gaze stopped him. Well, that, and the simple fact that he wanted Isa to get to know him better before she found out what he was. Chance had lived long enough to recognize what was stirring in him—and to appreciate that it didn't happen often.
Sure, he'd been attracted to her since the first night he watched her, then he'd grown to like her for her spunk and bravery, but that wasn't what was rare. It was the additional feeling she inspired. The one of connection, like she was someone who should be part of his life. Some people called it chemistry, others called it infatuation, some even called it fate. Chance didn't care what name was stuck on it. He only knew it was real.
And she felt something for him, too. He could smell it in the way her scent changed around him, the way her heart beat faster when he stared at her, and the way her body leaned toward his even as her eyes were rimmed with caution. Oh, part of that was just the attraction of a compatible woman to a compatible man, but there was more as well. Chance intended to find out how much more, and then he'd show her what he was, because he wasn't going to hide himself from her for much longer.
"I used my hocus-pocus and hypnotized you," he replied. It was mostly true. He just wasn't going to elaborate that his power was derived from being a vampire.
"You hypnotized me?" she repeated. "With what?"
He shrugged. "My gaze and my voice." Again, true enough.
Isa began to pace. "This is too weird. You're some kind of wacko David Copperfield and my grandmother hired you to abracadabra my brother safely back?"
"I told you this wasn't about money," Chance corrected.
"Whatever!" Isa said. Then her gaze narrowed. "You didn't do anything perverted while I was on your lap, did you?"
Chance folded his arms across his chest. "If you think I'm some lowlife scum who'd coerce a woman into doing something sexual against her will, then I suggest you do call the police. I had you come over to me because it proved that I can do what I claim I can do. You certainly wouldn't have perched on my knee of your own inclination just then, would you? But that was all you did, Isa, and my hands remained at my sides the entire time."
He locked his gaze with hers until she looked away, but the suspicion had left her eyes. There was still confusion, yes, and a healthy dose of wariness…but no more angry accusation.
Isa flounced on the side of her bed. "So…you can walk up to Robert and um, hypnotize him into telling you where Frazier is?"
"Yes," Chance said simply.
She chewed her lip. It had been over two weeks since her brother last contacted her. Even if he had managed to sneak away to make that phone call, maybe he'd been caught and dragged back. All the uncertainty over her brother's fate made Isa reckless. She couldn't just sit back and accept Robert's assurances that Frazier was okay. If all she had on her side right now was a trespassing honor-bound hypnotist—well. She'd just have to make the best of it.
"Assuming you can do that, Frazier's got to be guarded. You're pretty good with your little trick one on one, obviously, but up against several mini-gangsters with guns? You'd get shot before you even got near Frazier. Or the two of you would get shot before you managed to get away. We need to coordinate when this is going to happen. Robert's house is huge, and he likes to keep things close to him, so you should check for Frazier there first. I can go over to Robert's and leave a door open or something. Then I can, um, distract him while you sneak up on him and try your David Copperfield act."
"Isa…that's very brave of you, but it's not necessary. I can get in Robert's house with very little effort, and neither he nor his men will be able to keep me from leaving."
"Your arrogance could get my brother killed!" she snapped. "Excuse me if I'm not comfortable with that!"
He met her gaze very steadily. "I've done this before. My sire trusts me. Your grandmother trusts me. You're going to have to trust me as well."
She gave him a hard look. One that said she wasn't used to trusting anyone but herself. Chance could appreciate that. He'd lived with it as his credo for most of his human twenty-seven years.
"Look at it this way," he urged her next. "Where are you now? Dependent on Robert's very questionable mercy that he won't kill your brother, that's where. You're using the only bargaining chip you have—yourself—to ensure Frazier's safety, but Robert still holds all the cards. You need to have an ace up your sleeve that Robert won't expect. Well, Isabella, I am that ace, and you can trust that Robert will never expect me at all."
"I'm doing okay," she replied with obvious defensiveness. "I didn't see you at the restaurant earlier deflating Robert's hard-on!"
A grin touched Chance's mouth. "Ah, yes. Your galloping yeast infection. A very clever move. I'm sure Mini-Mob won't be able to get it up for days."
"Mini-Mob?" Isa laughed. Chance enjoyed seeing her face light up with it. "An Austin Powers fan, are you?"
"Guilty as charged."
"Wait a minute." Isa's laughter cleared at once. "How did you know that? You weren't there. How could you possibly know that?"
Because I'd been on the roof of the building across the street, listening to you all night. And I almost swooped down and ripped Robert's balls off with my bare hands when I heard him suggest that you were going home with him. Robert should thank his lucky stars you had your fake yeast infection as a shield, or he'd never become a father.
But Chance couldn't say that, of course. He couldn't tell Isa that he'd been watching her long past what his initial reconnaissance had required. Or that while she'd been in the shower earlier, he'd lain in her bed just so her scent could wrap all around him.
Yes, whatever word applied to Chance's condition, he had it bad.
"I was following Robert for a chance to get him alone," was what Chance settled on. "So I was near enough to the restaurant earlier to hear what happened. None of them ever knew, and neither did you. I've had some practice with this, Isabella. You can trust me."
He so very much wanted her to trust him, because his deliberate vagueness and these multiple unfinished sentences were wearing. If there was one thing he'd learned in his century-plus of living, it was that honesty was a cornerstone in a relationship. Women would forgive many things, but lies were at the top of their list for unpardonable sins. If Isa demanded more direct answers from him, Chance would give them to her. No matter if she was ready to hear them or not.
She chewed on her lip again. Chance watched her and wanted to do the same.
He might be having that "so I'm a vampire," conversation sooner rather than later with her. Inhaling the fragrance of her arousal earlier had almost outed him from his coffin, because he'd felt his eyes start to change and fangs press lustfully against his gums of their own accord. Even now, his blood wanted to rush to a particular place, and Chance had to concentrate to send it elsewhere. He pitied human men who had no control over that. The ability to direct his blood where he wanted it to go was just another perk of being a vampire. It beat the hell out of walking around trying to conceal a hard-on, and on the flip side, no vampire ever had to worry about impotence.
"Okay," Isa said finally. "I'll let you try to work your mojo on Robert to locate my brother, but if you find out where he is, you call me, understand? Because if something goes wrong—"
"Nothing will," Chance interrupted her firmly.
She gave him that look again. The one that said plenty of things had gone wrong in her life. Chance remembered reading that her parents died in a small plane crash while vacationing in the Bahamas when Isa was just thirteen. Her grandmother had been the one to raise her and Frasier. Yes, Isa would have learned young that life promised no happy endings, but in this case, Chance could at least promise he wouldn't make any mistakes with Frazier.
If he was even still alive.
Chance pushed that thought away. He'd assume Frazier was alive until he was shown his dead body. The fact that Ritchie and Paul hadn't known whe
re he was when he asked them the other night—not that they remembered the body they'd wrapped in plastic had sat up and interrogated them, of course—concerned Chance. He would have thought Robert's top two meatheads would have been privy to that info rmation, but maybe Robert played things closer to the vest. It would be smart of him, considering how weak-minded Smelly and Bowling Ball were. Robert himself was made of sterner stuff. Chance figured he'd have to drink his blood first to get what he wanted out of him, whereas Ritchie and Paul only required the light in his gaze to spill their secrets.
"Nothing will go wrong," Chance repeated, and meant it. If Frazier Spaga was still alive, he'd bring him back that way to his sister. If he was already dead…then Chance would see to it that everyone who'd had a part in his demise met the same fate as well.