Home > The Vampire and the Virgin (Love at Stake #8)(10)

The Vampire and the Virgin (Love at Stake #8)(10)
Author: Kerrelyn Sparks

Her eyes met his with a searching glance. The lust he'd battled all evening returned at full force. He stuffed his fists into the pockets of his hoodie to keep from grabbing her. Lord Almighty, he wanted to kiss away her doubts.

His gaze dropped to her pink mouth. So soft and sweet. Everything was slowly becoming tinted with pink, which could only mean his eyes were turning red. A sure sign that he desperately wanted her. She licked her lips, and he closed his eyes, praying for control.

"All right," she whispered.

Thank God. He opened his eyes and found her gaze drifting over his body. She wanted him. He didn't need any empathic powers to feel the heat coming from her. He could hear her heart pounding. Maybe he could steal a kiss after all. He stepped toward her, lowering his gaze to her feet so his red glowing eyes wouldn't frighten her.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She turned and dashed into the house.

He took a deep breath to calm his raging lust. "Olivia," he whispered, simply because he liked hearing it. He liked the way it rolled off his tongue. She was so beautiful. Unique. Worth fighting for every step of the way.

His eyes slowly returned to normal, and he headed toward the stairs with a growing sense of triumph. She'd tried to reject him, but he'd persevered and emerged victorious. Fate was on his side after all.

By the time he reached the beach, Robby was grinning. He'd see her again. Flirt again. Laugh again.

Life was good. He'd found Olivia.

"I thought you'd never get up." Eleni Sotiris frowned when her granddaughter wandered into the kitchen shortly before eleven the next morning. "Are you still not sleeping well?"

"No, 'fraid not." Olivia yawned. She'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, replaying her meeting with Robby MacKay over and over in her mind. And after re-creating the scene faithfully a dozen times, she'd started fantasizing alternative endings. What if she'd let him kiss her?

She fixed a cup of hot tea while her grandmother sat at the table chopping an onion into tiny bits.

Eleni scraped the onions into a mixing bowl filled with ground meat. "Are you still worried about that bad man? You never told me about him."

"It's not him." That was one good thing about Robby MacKay. He'd completely taken her mind off Otis Crump. Olivia peered at the contents in the mixing bowl. "Is that hamburger?"

"A little beef, a little lamb. Some tabouli." Eleni peeled some cloves of garlic. "Don't you recognize the stuffing for dolmades?"

Olivia sat across from her grandmother and sipped some tea. She could lie, but her grandmother would know. "I guess not."

Eleni gave her a worried look. "You remember how to make dolmades, don't you?"

"Not really." It had been years since she had tried stuffing grape leaves. Her attempts had always turned out messy and lopsided.

Her grandmother clicked her tongue disapprovingly as she chopped garlic. "How will you make a proper Greek wife if you don't know how to cook? What have you been doing with yourself?"

"I went to college. Got a master's degree. Went to Quantico for training. Been chasing down bad guys." She gave her grandmother a wry look. "You know, the usual girly stuff."

Eleni's mouth twitched. "It'll take a special husband to keep up with you."

Olivia's thoughts immediately snapped to Robby MacKay. He was definitely special. She'd tried to scare him away, but he'd refused to give up on her.

Eleni scraped the minced garlic into the mixing bowl. "I need some fresh parsley." She grabbed a pair of scissors and headed out the back door to the patio.

Olivia sipped her tea and noted that the red rosebud had opened. After Robby had left, she'd returned it to the vase on the kitchen table. Its sweet scent competed with the onions and garlic of Yia Yia's cooking.

She wondered how long the rose could last. And how long a relationship with Robby could last. In two weeks she'd be accompanying her grandmother to Houston for the Christmas holidays. And then she'd be returning to her job in Kansas City. It seemed highly doubtful that she'd ever see Robby again once she left Patmos.

She sighed. Why should she let it bother her? The relationship was doomed anyway. She could never get involved with a man she couldn't read. She would never know if he was being completely truthful.

Still, there were a few facts she could believe. One, he was extremely handsome. Two, she was hopelessly attracted to him. She felt fairly certain that his story was honest. He was a soldier who'd been captured and tortured for two days. That sent a shudder down her spine.

Could he have made up the story to gain her sympathy? Yes. But his reluctance to tell her had seemed real. And the pain in his eyes had seemed real. Too bad there was no computer or Internet at Yia Yia's house so she could run a check on him.

She was tempted to believe him. She wanted to believe him. If he'd really survived being tortured, it explained a lot: his reluctance to admit that he'd been traumatized. His tendency to be suspicious and paranoid.

It wasn't surprising that his family wanted him to see a therapist. And it wasn't surprising that he'd be averse to it. Who would want to relive such an experience? No doubt a big, strong guy like Robby found it humiliating to admit he'd been victimized and totally helpless.

With a gulp, Olivia realized his physical wounds might have healed, but the wound to his pride was still raw. She'd smacked his pride badly when she'd implied he couldn't be trusted.

Eleni marched back into the kitchen with a bouquet of parsley clutched in her hand. "We're having dolmades, spanakopita, lamb, and salad for dinner. I'll need your help." She rinsed off the parsley in the kitchen sink.

Olivia winced. She had a bad feeling about this. "That seems like a lot of food just for the two of us."

Eleni sat across from her and chopped the parsley. "I invited Spiro for dinner. Dolmades are his favorite."

Olivia groaned. "Does he speak English?"

"A few words." Eleni added the chopped parsley to the mixing bowl. "I can tell you're annoyed with me, but don't worry. The language of love doesn't need words."

Olivia snorted, then sipped some tea. She doubted it would do any good to complain.

Eleni dug her hands into the mixing bowl to combine all the ingredients. "We'll be busy for a few hours. Why don't you tell me about the bad man who's got you so worried?"

Olivia sighed. "He can't bother me here." She hoped. "He's in prison."

"Prison? What did he do?"

"He raped and murdered thirteen women."

Eleni made a sound of disgust. "I don't know how you can deal with such terrible people."

Otis Crump was more than terrible. Olivia interviewed lots of criminals, but she'd never felt like she'd come face-to-face with evil incarnate until she'd met Otis. "I'd rather not talk about him." She didn't want her grandmother exposed to all the gruesome details.

Eleni shook her head, making tsking noises as she readied the grape leaves. "All right. Now you watch, so you'll know how to do it." She spooned a dollop of the meat mixture onto a grape leaf, folded over the stem, then the sides, and rolled it up.

Olivia wanted to shove all thoughts of Otis out of her mind, so she took the rose from the vase and held it up to her nose. The scent filled her head, reminding her of Robby.

"You're not watching me," Eleni admonished her. Her eyes narrowed. "Your emotions have suddenly changed for the better."

Olivia smiled as she stroked the velvet rose petals. "Last night I met the guy who left this."

"Your secret admirer? Who is he?"

"His name is Robert Alexander MacKay. Robby for short."

Eleni looked confused. "He doesn't sound Greek."

"He's Scottish." When her grandmother gave her a blank look, she elaborated. "You know, Scotland? Plaid kilts and bagpipes?"

Eleni pursed her lips. "He's from an island?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. Then he can't be too bad." She rolled another grape leaf. "Did he come here? Why didn't I meet him?"

"It was after midnight. You were asleep."

"Why so late? Is he some kind of smuggler?"

"No. He jogs at night. I saw him the first night I was here. And he saw me. From a distance. We didn't talk. Then the next night, he left this rose."

"Hmm." Eleni frowned as she stuffed another grape leaf. "And you talked to him last night?"

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