Dark Nights: Mistress of the Underground / The Vampire Affair. Livia Reasoner
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group homes when he’d gotten older. Because no one had been able to locate the father who’d taken off when his mom had first gotten sick, no one had been able or willing to adopt him for fear that his father would come back and take him away.
Unlike Paige’s father, his had never come back. Just as Paige had never come back to this house; it had to be that it held too many painful memories for her. While he’d told her about his past, he’d never really shared with her what it meant to him—that he’d become a cardiologist because of the helplessness he’d felt watching his mother slowly die of heart failure.
He opened the fridge to look for an ice pack for his ribs. But he didn’t care about his own injuries. He cared about Paige. He should be with her, taking care of her.
But she wouldn’t let him now…even though she had a stalker. Maybe after last night, she would finally admit she had one; that it wasn’t all a mistake. But then there was so much Paige insisted on denying. Like her feelings for him.
They were still there; he saw them every time she looked at him, her gorgeous blue eyes soft with emotion. Every time she touched him, her affection flowed over him with sweet generosity. She might admit to having a stalker now, but he doubted she would admit to her feelings about him. What was the point, since they had both already agreed they had no future? They only had a past.
One he’d screwed up. A pain jabbed his chest, but it wasn’t from his ribs. He didn’t need an ice pack right now. All he needed was a soft bed and as many hours of sleep as he could manage before someone paged him.
Actually, all he needed was Paige.
He headed up the back stairwell to his bedroom. The master bedroom, but it had always been more Paige’s than his, with its periwinkle walls and lacy curtains and spread. He should have moved out when she had; he should have sold the house.
But he’d kept holding out hope that she would change her mind. That after she’d taken the time she’d needed alone, she would come home. But she’d never come back to this house. The last of his hope had evaporated when she’d had him served with divorce papers. But still he hadn’t sold the house…even after he’d signed the papers, unwilling to fight with her then when they’d both been hurting so much.
He pushed open the door to his bedroom. With the wooden shades closed at the windows, it was dark, the darkness beckoning him to bed. After some sleep, he would talk to Paige whether she liked it or not. And this time he’d get through to her; she had to give up the club. And maybe, after he got through to her about that, he would attempt to talk to her about some other things, things they should have talked about four years ago.
He stepped into the master bath, off the bedroom, brushed his teeth, then headed toward the bed, dropping his clothes as he approached. He pulled back the blanket and crawled between the cool sheets. But when he shifted, warmth reached out to him, from the blankets and from the naked, curvy body next to his. “What the hell!”
“Don’t you mean who the hell?” Paige murmured as she struggled to fully awaken.
“Damn it, Paige,” he cursed her, “you shocked the hell out of me.”
Out of herself, too. After she’d been released from the hospital, she had insisted Sebastian drop her here. She couldn’t believe she’d actually come back to this house. She’d been reeling from the memories and emotions since she’d walked in the door, the one where Ben had carried her over the threshold when they’d moved in ten years ago. Having lived in a loft the first few years of their marriage, it had been their first real home.
Ever. Except for the foster homes in which Ben had lived, their single mothers had never been able to afford a house, or to provide them with security. Ben’s because she’d been too sick and physically weak; Paige’s because she’d just been too weak.
With as much as they’d had in common, it was no wonder that Paige had fallen for him. They should have been able to make their marriage work; they should have been able to have a lasting relationship.
She struggled again, not to awaken, but to bury the memories and the emotions. What they had now wasn’t about the past or the future. It was the here and now, and that was all she would allow herself to think about.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine. It was just a scratch.”
“A scratch doesn’t require stitches.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “In fact, I think I’m better than you are.” She couldn’t see him in the darkened room, but there was something about his tone that revealed his tension.
“I’m…just shocked that you’re here,” he said.
“You’re not used to women sneaking into your house to wait naked in your bed for you to come home?” she teased, willing to play any role—even the jealous ex-wife.
“The alarm usually stops them.”
Her heartbeat accelerated as the emotions crept back in. “You didn’t change the code.” And she couldn’t help but wonder why. For the same reason she’d used it as hers, probably because it was easy to remember.
“No,” he said, his body taut next to hers, as if he didn’t dare touch her. “I didn’t.”
She had to know. “Because you didn’t think I’d come back or you didn’t want to keep me out if I did?” she asked, holding her breath for his answer.
“Probably both.”
“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’m not here to stay.” She was brave enough now to visit, but she could never come home again even though he had asked her to move back in. To protect her. Only to protect her…
“Why are you here, Paige?” He kept to his side of the bed, something he’d never done when they were married. “Is this about playing another game? Who are you tonight?”
Someone who owed him an apology and, damn him, he was going to make her say it.
“I have something I need to tell you,” she admitted.
Taking off her clothes and crawling into his bed had been insurance so that he would accept her apology, and so that things could go back to the uncomplicated fun and games they’d been having. Well, as uncomplicated as anything could ever be between the two of them.
“You want to talk?” he asked, his voice deepening with surprise.
She sucked in a breath and confessed, “I owe you an apology.”
“Really?”
Damn him. He was going to force her to say all of it.
“You were right,” she admitted with a grimace she hoped he couldn’t see in the dark room, the only light spilling through the partially open bathroom door. “You had every reason to be worried about me, about my safety.”
He expelled a weary-sounding sigh. “I’m sorry…that I was…right.”
“Yeah, me, too. I just don’t understand…I don’t know why someone would come after me now. I’m not practicing law anymore.”
“Why?” he asked again. “Why did you quit now?”
“When I hadn’t when you asked me to?”
“I just wanted you to take it easy.”
Would it have made a difference? Now she’d never know, and she would never forgive herself for taking the risk. “I didn’t leave by choice,” she admitted, too tired and scared to worry about her pride.
“Turrell fired you? After all those years you worked your ass off for him?”
She could have argued the point about her ass, as she still had plenty of it left. But she shrugged instead. “He probably thinks I had something to do with his wife finally deciding to divorce him.”
“Did