“He’s kind of a loner, to be honest.” Kinda. “I doubt he’d hire…someone to do that stuff when he could just do it himself.” She did wonder who he had doing his computer work for him. Did he just use amnis to get random people to search online? That wasn’t very ethical. Maybe he did need—
“Yeah,” Dez sighed. “I totally get why you’re so hung up on him though. A good-looking Italian book collector who solves historical mysteries? That’s just…”
“What?” Implausible?
“Hot. I can’t believe Mano’s not insanely jealous of all the time you’re spending with him.”
Beatrice felt her face heat up, and she caught Dez’s wide-eyed look.
“He doesn’t know, does he?”
She shrugged. There was no way on God’s green earth Beatrice was telling Mano that she was working alongside a five-hundred-year-old vampire who was linked to her missing father and was the sire of the monster who had kidnapped her. There was no way she was telling anyone any of that. They’d think she was insane.
“Oh, he’s going to be pissed, B!”
“Why? The research is done.” And her heart still ached over it. “Why would I see him anymore?” She shook her head and continued quietly. “He’ll probably leave town again now that he has it.”
Dez frowned. “I thought you said he bought a house?”
So he had, and she’d been asked over for dinner more than once by the persistent Ben. It was both despicable and adorable that Giovanni seemed to have Ben on his team in his attempts to win her back. She had to admit, the boy was charming.
As was his fake uncle.
“So he’s probably going to use Southern California as a base for work if he did that,” Dez reasoned. “It would be a good one. Easy airport access and lots of international flights to both Europe and Asia. Big research libraries and plenty of resources.”
“That’s true.”
“And a cute librarian he’s obviously still got the hots for.”
“Shut up, Dez.”
“Not on your life.”
Beatrice was still thinking about what Dez had said when her best friend dropped her off at her empty house. Would Giovanni leave? What if he really was serious about staying in her life? What did that mean for her? For him? For her relationship with her incredibly loving but clueless boyfriend? Mano had a dive in the morning, so she was alone when she picked up the shoebox she had brought from Houston five years before.
Beatrice opened the lid and pulled out a picture of her and her father. Stephen De Novo’s dark brown eyes stared at her. She still missed him so much. It was worse knowing he was out there somewhere, and she just couldn’t find him. What did it all mean? Why had he never come? Maybe her father didn’t trust Giovanni, but couldn’t he trust her? What was the secret he was still running from after fifteen years?
Was Giovanni her best chance at finding him?
Had Lorenzo already found him?
Would Giovanni’s son find her again?
She shook her head and replaced the lid on the old box, shoving it back on the bottom of the bookshelf in the living room. She didn’t have room in her life for another mystery. She had built a good life. A safe life. She didn’t want to be pulled into the chaos of the past.
But when she closed her eyes that night, a dulcet laugh haunted her dreams, and her father’s eyes pleaded with her to find him. Beatrice woke with a start to see the moon shining through the narrow window of her bedroom. In her drowsy state, she looked for Giovanni beside her.
Just as it had been for the past five years, he was nowhere to be found.
Chapter Five
Los Angeles, California
November 2009
Two weeks.
Giovanni’s immortal life was measured in two-week intervals.
After her find at the library, Beatrice had given him two weeks to prove they could be friends again. While he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with only that, he realized she still had doubts about his intentions, so he tried to back off and give her some space. They had been friends first, and he could be a friend again.
For a while.
So they met for coffee and conversation. She came to dinner at the house with Ben acting as an enthusiastic chaperone. Giovanni waited outside the library when she worked late just to walk her to her motorcycle.
And at the end of two weeks, she told him he was allowed to be in her life…as a friend. So he gamely ignored her racing heart every time she saw him and the loaded looks she cast his direction when she thought he wasn’t looking and pretended to be Beatrice’s friend for a while.
Two weeks turned into four, and they met for coffee a few times each week after her judo class. She had recently begun practice with a new teacher.
“Pete’s so good. I mean, he kind of beats me up—”
Giovanni couldn’t contain the low growl, and she shot him a look.
“—but in a good way. Since I’ve changed to this studio, I’ve made a lot more progress. And I’m a lot stronger. They focus on conditioning more than my old place.”
“You look stronger. And your balance has improved.”
She smiled. “I love judo. It’s so much fun. Have you ever studied martial arts?” She laughed. “Do you even need to?”
“My physical conditioning with my father was based on the Spartan agoge, so I learned about most military and fighting techniques that way, but Tenzin trained me more on hand-to-hand fighting styles. I picked up whatever she taught me, which was a strange mix of ‘do whatever will kill your opponent the fastest,’ and her sire’s form of wushu, or kung fu, as humans refer to it.”
“Cool. Tenzin’s the one who recommended I take tai chi when I first moved to California. That’s kind of what started me out. I still practice.”
“Tai chi?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded, letting a smirk cross his lips when he thought about his old friend.
“And Mano studied martial arts in the military. He still does some kick boxing. Sometimes we practice together.”
He made no response, choosing to ignore the existence of the boyfriend whenever she brought him up.
Beatrice had told Mano that Giovanni was an old friend from Houston who had recently moved to town and a mutual friend of Carwyn’s whom she had worked for in the past. He had a feeling that the boyfriend was clueless about more than his and Beatrice’s past relationship.
He leaned toward her in the crowded café. “So you really haven’t told anyone? Not even Dez? About your father or Carwyn or…anything?” He blew on the fragrant coffee he held, heating his breath to heighten the scent since it had cooled.
“No, I didn’t tell anyone. What would I say?” She lowered her voice. “Oh, hey, Dez, you know my friend, Carwyn? He’s a thousand-year-old Welsh priest who hunts deer and drinks their blood. Oh, and my father is a vampire, too, but I haven’t seen him for almost fifteen years so I don’t know what he eats. And I was kidnapped by a vampire once, but don’t worry, my boss—who I was kind of involved with, but not really—rescued me with his two best friends, one of whom can fly and the other who can tunnel underground like a giant gopher.”
He shrugged. “Seems totally believable to me. And we were most definitely involved.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes and took a sip of coffee. “Right, and were you going to swoop in and rescue me when they carted me off to the looney bin?”
“I will always swoop in and rescue you, whether from psychotic vampires or the men in white coats.”
He caught the small smile she tried to hide and held up his cup of coffee, inhaling deeply.
“Why do you even order it, Gio?”
“I told you, I like the way it smells.”
Beatrice shook her head and leaned back in the plush chair. She closed her eyes and he allowed his gaze to caress her face while she was unaware. He’d been dancing around his feelings for well over a month, and it was becoming increasingly harder to keep silent.
&
nbsp; He forced himself to remain casual, more interested in regaining her trust than in satisfying himself. Tenzin’s admonition to be patient seemed more and more apt every day.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “I have a favor to ask, which you are in no way obligated to grant, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”
She kept her eyes closed but mumbled, “Does it involve blood donation?”
“Are you offering?”
Beatrice cracked one eye open and grimaced. “No.”
“Then how about taking Ben to the doctor?”
Her head shot up. “Why? Is he okay?”
“Nothing to worry about that I know of. He just needs a regular doctor. And you wouldn’t even have to go in with him—I’m sure he’d be mortified if you did—just drive him. He needs a checkup and none of the pediatricians in the area have evening hours. I can write a note as his guardian, of course.”
She thought for a moment before she nodded. “I can do that. Let me get my schedule for next week and I’ll see what days would be best.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Oh! Next week is Thanksgiving. That might not be the best week to go.”
He nodded. “You are the one doing the favor, so you let me know what day will work for you. I’ll make the appointment from there. And thank you again.”
She shrugged. “I’m refusing to work for you, so it’s the least I can do.”
“I really wish you’d reconsider your—”
“I’m sure you would,” she interrupted, “but I’m very happy at the Huntington.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Translating and researching for scholars with less intelligence than you? Taking orders from someone you could run circles around intellectually? It must be so stimulating, tesoro.”
“Don’t start, or I’ll leave.”
He exhaled and let his head fall back into the armchair. “Fine, I’ll refrain from stating the obvious.”
“Just…” she sighed. “It’s only been a month. Give me time to have you back in my life like this. Give me some time to make room for you on my terms.”
Why don’t you get rid of the excess boyfriend? That should leave exactly the right amount of room. He thought it but bit his tongue and smiled. “Of course.”
“So what are you and Ben doing for Thanksgiving? Going back to Houston?”
“No, no, we’re going back to Texas for Christmas, but I thought we’d stay around here for a quiet meal.”
Her mouth dropped open exactly how he had imagined the granddaughter of Isadora De Novo’s would. “What? You’re going to feed the child spaghetti for Thanksgiving dinner?”
Giovanni shrugged. “Well, he’s never celebrated it properly anyway. And I thought I’d try to make that macaroni and cheese he likes. I think I’d be able to manage that. We didn’t do much last year, either.” He frowned. “Of course, I think we were still fighting about stealing from my wallet last year.”
“You’re bringing him over to my place,” she stated. “The boy’s never even had a turkey dinner? What are you thinking, Gio?”
I’m thinking I wrangled exactly the invitation to your house I’ve been looking for. “Beatrice, you really don’t—”
“Are you kidding me? Mac and cheese? You can barely manage spaghetti from a jar. And my grandmother would die if she heard I let you feed that kid junk food on Thanksgiving. Come over to my house. Sunset’s before five now, I’ll make dinner for six-thirty. Bring some wine.”
He smothered his satisfied smile. “Thank you. I’m sure Benjamin will appreciate the decent meal. As will I.”
She shook her head and muttered under her breath. “Macaroni and cheese…”
The following Thursday, he was trying to convince Ben that a collared shirt would not inflict bodily injury.
“She wears Docs! She’d like my CBGB’s shirt way better. It’s vintage. Vintage is better than a tux to a Doc Marten girl.”
“It most certainly is not, Benjamin. And be grateful I’m not making you wear a tie.”
“Oh man, I’m not wearing a tie. No way!”
Giovanni tucked in a dark green button down shirt and fastened the buttons at his wrists. “Trust me, women always appreciate a well-dressed man.”
The boy looked at him suspiciously as he pulled on his hated dress shoes. “I don’t know. She’s not your girlfriend yet.”
He smirked. “Well, there’s another lesson. Things and people of value are worth waiting for.”
“If you say so.”
“I know so.”
“Hey, Gio?”
“Yes?”
Ben’s face was free of its usual sarcasm when Giovanni looked at him. “I get why you love her so much. She’s pretty great.”
He smiled at the perceptive boy. “I have only the finest taste in people.”
Ben looked embarrassed but quickly shot back, “Dude, I don’t want to know about your blood-drinking habits.”
Giovanni snorted and looked in the mirror before he walked over to the boy and mussed his hair. “Comb this mess. It’s almost time to go.”
They drove to Beatrice’s small house, Ben carrying on a constant chatter in the old Mustang that had finally arrived from Houston, and Giovanni trying to prepare himself to curb his natural instincts so he could meet Beatrice’s boyfriend without killing or maiming him.
They were met at the door by a blond woman Giovanni assumed was Beatrice’s best friend, Desiree Riley.
“You must be Desiree.” He held out his hand politely and nudged Ben to do the same. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She smirked. “It’s Dez. You must be Gio. I can almost promise I’ve heard more about you.” She cocked her head and looked at Ben. “Or is this Gio? You’re not that tall yet, but you’ve got the dark and handsome part down.”
Ben grinned, winking at Dez and holding his arm out for her to take. She giggled and took it as they walked inside. “Well, Dez, my name’s Ben, I’m the smarter and more charming of the Vecchio men…”
Giovanni shook his head as he followed them into the small 1920s era Spanish bungalow. He crossed the small living room and paused when he saw a large man bending over Beatrice’s shoulder as she stood in front of the stove.
There were few times in his five hundred years that Giovanni had truly been grateful for the vicious training of his sire, Niccolo Andros. The fifteen years he’d spent under the vampire’s thumb had been brutal and draining, both mentally and physically.
But as he watched former Navy diver, Mano Akana, put his hands on Beatrice’s waist and pull her close, he knew he’d relive every one of those torturous training sessions if it allowed him to not kill the oblivious man holding onto his woman.
That level of violence would, no doubt, put most of the guests off their dinner.
He quieted the growl that wanted to escape his throat and cut his eyes toward Matt Kirby, his associate who had been living next to Beatrice on his orders for more than three years. Matt gave him a small nod and returned his attention to Dez and Ben. Ben was busy introducing himself.
“Gio!” Beatrice called, as she extricated herself from the grasp of the over-muscled behemoth who held her. She walked into the living room and gave Ben a quick hug before she walked to Giovanni.
She hesitated a moment but leaned forward and embraced him. He pushed his amnis toward her and felt the shiver travel down her back. Glancing past her, he noticed the boyfriend watching them intently and knew, without a doubt, that Beatrice was the only one fooling herself that they were nothing more than friends.
“Happy Thanksgiving, tesoro,” he said quietly before he approached Mano in the kitchen. He held out his hand and tried not to imagine how many ways he could kill the man.
“Giovanni Vecchio. You must be Mano.”
The man’s hair may have fallen to his shoulders, but the eyes that examined him revealed his military background more than any uniform.
“Nice to meet you. You??
?re a friend of Carwyn’s, right? And B’s old boss?”
“I’m both. And a friend as well. She’s a remarkable woman. You’re very lucky.” To not be dead right now.
“Oh, I know I am,” Mano murmured, a look of challenge in his eyes. “And this is your nephew?”
“Benjamin, yes. Ben, come introduce yourself to Beatrice’s friend.”
Mano cut his eyes toward Giovanni and smirked. Both men nodded toward the other, as if a challenge had been accepted, before Ben came over to introduce himself and the tension was cut.
The dinner was far better than anything he could have produced, and Giovanni ate more than he usually did. He’d been buying donated blood in Los Angeles and feeding on that unless the opportunity to feed from a criminal presented itself—which it did with fair regularity. In the past five years, he’d lost his appetite for random women and the blood they could offer him, so he’d been making do. He knew he was not at full strength, and it bothered him.
Giovanni wished that he hated the boyfriend but realized under other circumstances, he would probably like the man. No matter. After observing Beatrice and Mano throughout the evening, he had no qualms about doing everything in his power to separate them.
She was trying to convince herself she was in love with him. She most likely did love the human in some fashion, but she did not look at Mano the way she had once looked at him. Nor did she react to the man with the same physical intensity she did to Giovanni.
Mano, however, was very obviously in love with Beatrice. He could hardly blame the man, but his determination to make Beatrice his own suffered no setback at the thought of the human’s impending disappointment.
“Giovanni? What are you working on right now? Are you settling in L.A. permanently?” Dez asked from across the table. He smiled at the blond woman, noticing the longing look Matt Kirby threw toward her every time she opened her mouth.
“I am for now,” he answered. “It’s a good place for research, and I like my house in Pasadena.”