The sounds of an argument drew him to a restaurant parking lot. Taking cover in the shadows, he saw a man and a woman facing each other. He was a little drunk. She was angry, her arms crossed over her br**sts.
“Pay up!” she demanded. “Fifty bucks, right now!”
“I can’t.” He swayed unsteadily. “Sorry.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
He smiled ruefully. “I mean I don’t have it.”
Her expression turned ugly. “I suggest you get it while you still can.”
“You threatening me?” he exclaimed.
She pulled a gun from the handbag dangling from her wrist. “What do you think?”
Zack shook his head. He really didn’t want to get involved in this little skirmish, but he couldn’t stand by and watch one of his dealers get plugged by a hooker.
Hands still in his pockets, Zack strolled toward them.
The woman swung the gun in Zack’s direction. “Get out of here!”
“Hold on there,” Zack said, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “That idiot’s a friend of mine.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of cash. “Turn Henry loose. I’ll pay his bill.”
She stared at Zack, her expression uncertain.
Henry grinned at him. “Hey, boss.”
“Hey, yourself. I think you’d better go home while you can still walk.”
“Sure, boss, whatever you say,” Henry muttered, and staggered toward the street.
The woman’s finger curled around the trigger when Zack took a step toward her. “How do I know I can trust you?”
Zack extended his hand and waved the cash at her. “Come and get it.”
She hesitated, then took a wary step toward him, let out a shriek when, with preternatural speed, he closed the distance between them and plucked the gun from her grasp.
“Two mistakes in one night,” she muttered. And then tried to knee him in the groin.
Zack blocked it easily, pinned her arms to her sides, then stuffed the bills into her cle**age. “For services rendered.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
“No one you’ll remember,” he said, and lowered his head to her neck.
It was five to ten when Zack returned to Harrah’s. His insurance man was waiting for him in the lobby.
“Shankman,” Zack said, shaking the man’s hand. “I appreciate your meeting me so late.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Ravenscroft.”
“Let’s go into the lounge,” Zack suggested. “We’ll be more comfortable there.”
Zack found a table for two near the back. He ordered a glass of red wine for himself, a scotch and water for Shankman.
It took less than an hour to fill out the requisite forms. Shankman assured him that the paperwork would be expedited and the check mailed as soon as possible.
The two men shook hands and Shankman left the lounge.
Leaning back in his chair, Zack sipped his wine and thought about his upcoming wedding. He had never expected to marry. It wasn’t common among his kind, another major difference between vampires who were made and those who were born. His kind tended to be solitary, concerned for their own survival and little else. They tended to be jealous of their territory and rarely made friends with other vampires. By comparison, those of Kaitlyn’s ilk were far more social.
Zack’s meeting with his architect, Mike Waters, went quickly and smoothly.
“Just rebuild it the way it was,” Zack said.
“No changes?” Waters asked. “I was thinking we should add a covered entry and extend the parking garage. Tahoe’s grown quite a bit since you built the club, you know. Are you sure you don’t want to add a couple of floors and include some rooms?”
“I’m not interested in running a hotel,” Zack said. “But I like the covered entry idea and the additional parking. How soon can you get started?”
“First of the month?”
“Let’s do it.”
“I’ll draw up a contract tomorrow. Same terms as before?”
Zack nodded.
Waters shook his hand. “Nice doing business with you, Mr. Ravenscroft. I’ll be in touch.”
Alone again, Zack ordered another glass of wine. Closing his eyes, he brought Kaitlyn’s image to mind. Tomorrow night he would find a church where they could be married. Once he made her his, he vowed they would never be parted again.
Flipping open his cell phone, he punched in her number, felt a sense of peace steal over him when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.
Three days without Zack and Kaitlyn felt like she was going stir-crazy. Her father had forbidden her and her mother to leave the castle, even when the sun was up, and although Kaitlyn slept a good part of the day—something she had being doing more and more of since dating Zack—it still left her with a lot of time on her hands and not much to do. After all, you could only watch so many movies, read so many books, play so many games of solitaire, before you felt like climbing the walls. And that’s just how she felt.
Her parents did their best to keep her entertained, and she loved them for it, but she missed Zack, missed him with a hollow ache that nothing else could fill. She felt as if a vital part of her had been torn away, leaving her empty and incomplete. Was he feeling the same? Could he possibly miss her as much as she missed him?
“Oh, Zack,” she murmured. She needed to see him, to hear his voice, to touch him. And be touched in return. She closed her eyes, recalling the taste of his kisses, the way her whole body came alive at the touch of his hand. She missed the sound of his voice, his smile, his laughter.
She wandered through the castle, her fingertips sliding over the back of the sofa. Zack had kissed her there. And here, in front of the hearth. And in the kitchen. And in her bedroom. And in his bed. She sighed at the memory. Making love to Zack was . . . She shook her head. There were simply no words to describe the wonder of it, the joy it brought her, the sense of belonging. In a flash of insight, she suddenly understood the shared looks between her parents, the frequent half smile on her mother’s lips.
She glanced at her watch. It was almost four-thirty P.M. in California. Was Zack still asleep? Was it too early to call? God bless cell phones and the man who had invented them, she thought as she punched in Zack’s number.
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his voice, thick with sleep.
“Hey, Katy darlin’.”
“Zack, I miss you so much!”