Mistress of the Underground. Lisa Childs
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into a complete smile. “Is that a nice way of saying I look like hell?”
She laughed. “Don’t pretend I’ve wounded your pride. I’m sure there are plenty of females down at the hospital—staff and patients—who stroke your ego quite enough.”
“Now you’re calling me conceited.”
“Conceited?” She paused as if considering and then shook her head. “Arrogant, yes.” But not without damn good reason. The man had all kinds of talents. Thinking about the one he’d shown her in her office just hours before had heat flushing her skin.
He chuckled, as if he’d read her mind. Why hadn’t he been able to do that when they’d been married?
Embarrassed and frustrated at her weakness, she glanced away from him. Her gaze landed on the door at the end of the hall.
“You’ve done it again,” she said.
“What?”
“Avoided answering my question.” Maybe the divorce had been more his fault than hers. “Why did you come back down here, Ben?”
Anger replaced the flare of desire in his eyes. “Sebastian wanted me to see that opening-night gift you got.”
Damn him. And damn Ben for coming. “And here I thought you’d developed such a drinking problem that you can’t get enough.”
“I can’t seem to get enough of something, but it isn’t alcohol,” he admitted, his fingers stroking over her skin before he released her wrist. But he took the bottle, turning his attention to the label. “The hard stuff, huh?”
“If you’re going to bean someone over the head, you better use the hard stuff.” She stepped away from him, just resisting the urge to rub her wrist where his touch still burned her skin.
“You didn’t think I was a desperate drunk,” he scoffed at her claim, “you thought I was whoever left those flowers in your office.”
“And the stake,” she reminded him as she walked over to her desk where the hideous arrangement remained, despite Sebastian’s offer to get rid of it. Heck, he’d done more than offer; he’d insisted. She was surprised he’d listened to her when she’d explained that she wanted to hang on to it. “You know…all those years as a lawyer and the first time I’m called a vampire is after I’m no longer practicing law.”
“You’ll always be a lawyer, Paige,” Ben insisted. “It’s being a bar owner that you should probably rethink.”
“Why are you so against my owning this place?” she asked, remembering that earlier he had seemed to have a problem with it.
His lips curved into that half grin again. “And see, more questions. You’re a lawyer through and through, Paige. I don’t understand why you would give that up now…”
“When I hadn’t before when you wanted me to?” Regret and resentment overwhelmed her. She couldn’t deal with him…or the flowers…not without losing it.
Chapter Five
Paige pushed past him and ran out in the hall. This time Ben didn’t just watch as she walked away; he hurried after her. “I never wanted you to quit, Paige. I only wanted you to take it easy…to take care of yourself.”
She’d had to take care of herself because he’d been too busy taking care of everyone—and everything—else. As he followed her into the bar area, he glanced at the blood on the dance floor and the wall.
That patient was a member of the secret society. His girlfriend, also a society member, had gotten a little too passionate and nicked his carotid. While he wouldn’t have died, necessarily, the blood loss had weakened him to the point of helplessness. Stitching the wound and administering a transfusion had brought back his strength—so much so that Sebastian had already taken him home and left Ben to clean up the mess.
Along with the blood, he’d been supposed to dispose of the flowers before Paige saw them again and followed through on her inclination to call the police. Hell, maybe she should; Ben hadn’t protected her before. He didn’t trust himself to protect her this time, either.
“I take care of myself,” Paige insisted. “What happened…it was…”
Something they’d never talked about before. Even now, he couldn’t find the words to express his regret and loss and pain. Instead he glanced down at the bottle he still held—the one with which she’d nearly clocked him. As softly and gently as he liked to caress Paige’s naked skin, he ran his fingers over the label on the Dewar’s bottle. Hello, old friend…
Scotch had brought him comfort many a night after Paige had left him. Too many nights.
If he’d had a little less control, he might have become dependent on alcohol. But he’d had too many people—both living and undead—depending on him. So he had fought off the temptation then, and he would do so now because Paige needed him. He had to stick close to her, to protect her without her realizing what he was doing.
God, sticking close to Paige…
His body hardened at the thought of being close to her again—as close as they’d been earlier in her office, him buried inside her. So that he didn’t reach for her, he stepped behind the bar to place the bottle next to all the others. He’d been in Club Underground so many times—too many times—but he had never really noticed how elegant the club was. Appreciatively he ran his hand over the sparkling granite surface of the polished mahogany bar.
“If you’re thinking about a career change, too, I could use another bartender,” Paige offered.
“I could no more stop being a doctor than you could stop being a lawyer.” Yet there had been times, since he’d learned of the secret society, that he’d wanted to quit. But they’d made it clear to him that the only way out for him was death.
She lifted and spread out her arms to encompass the darkened lounge. “Look around. No law books, not a contract in sight. I’m not a lawyer anymore.”
“Why not?”
“You know,” she scoffed. “You’re too thick with my brother for him to have kept his mouth shut.”
“He said it was your secret.”
She arched a dark blond brow. “And you couldn’t have gotten it out of him?”
He probably could have, but he wanted her to tell him. He wanted her to share her life with him. Shame washed over him at his selfishness. How could he expect her to share her life when he couldn’t share his?
“I can’t believe Sebastian dragged you down here over those flowers,” she said, neatly avoiding his question as he had so many of hers over the years. “He was the one who told me they were nothing—that they’d probably been delivered to the wrong place.”
It might have been what he’d said, but it wasn’t what Sebastian believed. He hadn’t wanted her to call the police because an investigation might uncover the secret society and put everyone at risk. Ben would have preferred that to having Paige at risk. He uttered a sigh of frustration. “He’s probably right.”
She nodded. “There is no other logical explanation.”
Even if she learned the secret, she would never understand it. Paige had never been able to accept that some things defied logic.
“I’m sorry that you came down here for nothing,” she said.
“How could I not?” he asked. “If you need me, I’ll always be here for you.”
Liar. She refrained from shouting at him, from letting all her resentment and pain spill out. He hadn’t been there for her…when she’d needed him most. When she’d left the office earlier, she should have kept running; she shouldn’t have let him stop her. “We both know better than that,