“How’s the wedding going? Hey, if you were out in the sun, tell me you at least got to see some babes in bikinis.”
Noah suppressed a sigh. That was Charles. No matter how dire their situation, there was always time to discuss women. “Sorry to disappoint you. Volleyball kept me too busy to ogle.”
“Damn, man. You could lie to me.” His voice still light—too light. He added, “How’s it going with your hottie next door neighbor?”
“Frustrating,” he said without thinking.
“Well now that sounds interesting,” Charles said. “What kind of frustration are we talking here? Sexual or—”
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
Charles laughed. “Sure, man.”
Noah tossed his cell phone on the bed and stared at the bright wallpaper, and wished it didn’t suddenly feel like the walls were all closing in on him.
Charles was right. He needed more blood. And he needed to get away from her scent.
She was too sweaty after volleyball to go with Cindy to get their nails done without showering first. Noah would be resting, and she didn’t want to disturb him, but hopefully, a fifteen-minute shower and quick change wouldn’t bother him overly much.
She opened the stateroom door quietly. Maybe if he was already asleep she could slip in and not wake him. Movement caught her eye, and the full-length mirror across from the bathroom revealed Noah. He was awake. And—was he drinking from the shampoo bottle?
Her bag thunked when it hit the floor, and she turned her eyes to it. When she looked back up, Noah stood in the bathroom doorway, no longer carrying the shampoo bottle.
“You’re back early,” he said, as if he hadn’t just been drinking shampoo.
She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. What the hell? Had she invited a total crazy person to room with her? No. Noah wasn’t crazy. Not shampoo-drinking crazy anyway. Yikes. Talk about a stomach ache.
“I need a shower before I meet up with Cindy. Feeling a little scuzzy after volleyball. Glad I didn’t wake you,” she said, forcing the words past the shampoo-drinker thought pulsating in her brain.
His brows drew together with worry. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Shampoo-drinker. Shampoo-drinker. Shampoo-drinker. “I’m fine. I…” Saw you drinking shampoo. Am now wondering if you’re total crazypants. Think that drinking shampoo has to be really bad for you. “I’m just a little tired. It’s been a while since I played volleyball.”
He grinned. “That was fun, I have to say.”
“Well, you would think so. You creamed them for the championship. Cindy was thinking of buying you a trophy. Something supremely awful and garish to celebrate your victory. Of course, it would give her an excuse to stop by your house at some point. So, you’d have to leave it out somewhere it could be seen.” She widened her eyes dramatically. “My, I wonder how that would look with your decor.”
He laughed, and the sound warmed her far more than it should have. The man had one heck of a laugh. And kind eyes—when they weren’t so guarded. She risked a look at them. So dark, and such a color of blue she could get lost in them. And in the intensity behind them. He noticed her gaze, and like a wall, guarded amusement replaced the true feeling she’d seen there. The man was a contradiction.
“All right, guess I’d better get out of your way.” He stepped out of the bathroom and made his way to the pullout couch. The television clicked to life, and the familiar hum of it hit her, breaking the surreal moment. She reached into her bag, grabbed a random outfit, and then stepped into the bathroom.
Her history with men should have made her assume there was something off about Noah. But he’d seemed so nice. So normal. So unlike Brent.
And she’d sworn she’d never fall for a man like Brent again. Or any man at all. Especially not one who drank shampoo.
She could forgive herself for Brent. They’d started dating when she was young. She hadn’t known what to look for. Hadn’t realized why he’d asked about her family. He’d noticed her, lavished attention on her, told her she was beautiful.
Heady stuff for an eighteen-year-old.
She ran a brush through her hair, and then tugged off her clothes and folded them before piling them neatly.
And when he’d started acting a little controlling, he’d explained away the behavior with reasons she wanted to hear. He loved her so much, of course he was jealous when she talked to other guys. He needed her so much, that’s why he’d wanted her by his side all the time.
Bull.
When she’d finally started to realize he was interested in her because of her family’s money—in her potential inheritance—she’d been in so far she hadn’t wanted to admit her mistake. Digging deeply within herself, she’d finally found the courage to call him on it. To ask the questions she didn’t want the answers to.
To push him away.
She’d gone back to make up with him after their fight. After she’d accused him of being more interested in her family’s money than in her. Of course she had. She’d been with him for several years by then. They were going to get married. Start a family. And he was so good at playing the part of the nice guy when he put his mind to it.
Even as the niggling of doubt about him grew within her, she hadn’t really been ready for it to be over. She’d gone to his apartment without calling to make up. To tell him she believed him. To lie to herself and him, and say that she knew he wasn’t interested in her because of her family’s money.
And walked in on him and Kristen.
After Kristen had run out of the apartment in tears, he’d been angry. It was the first time he’d willingly revealed the monster lurking under his charming surface to her. The things he’d said. About Alice. About how cold she was. About how she’d never find anyone who would love her like he did. The words had stuck with her. Even as her feelings for Brent had faded.
She shook her head. It didn’t matter now. She was better off without Brent, that was obvious, even before this trip—her need to show him she was over him notwithstanding. But she’d thought Noah was a good one. And maybe he was. He wasn’t a jerk at least. Just crazy enough to drink shampoo.
A nervous giggle caught in her throat. She opened the cabinet below the sink. The shampoo bottle stood out. The rest of his toiletries were still in the bag below the sink, but he hadn’t had time to do more than shove the shampoo bottle next to it. She ignored it and turned the shower on. Only after she undressed and was ready to step under the steady stream of water did she risk picking it up. She took it with her into the shower, in the unlikely chance he could actually distinguish the sound of his shampoo bottle opening from outside the bathroom door.
Come on, Noah. Don’t be a crazy man. I can’t be wrong about you.
Taking a deep breath, she thumbed the bottle lid open.
Nothing sprang out, and she laughed nervously under her breath. What had she expected? It wasn’t a trick can of nuts. She sniffed at the open bottle, and the smell that touched her nose wasn’t chemical, or heavily scented like shampoo would be. Almost metallic, the scent was familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it smelled like.
Body tense despite the steaming water pouring over her back, she turned the bottle over and squeezed it into her hand. Red liquid filled her palm, and the bottle slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor of the shower.
Blood.
Chapter Five
“Thanks for doing this,” Cindy said. “I know how you hate these things.”
“What’s the Maid of Honor for, if not to endure what she must for the bride? Even if she has to look like a goblin to do it.” Alice forced a smile, wishing even the sight of her sister’s green face could distract her from her thoughts. “I’m just teasing you, you know. I love spending time with you.”
Cindy grinned at her through the beauty mask cream that had been spread over both their faces, looking quite garish for a bride. “I can’t believe the wedding is almost here. I mean, this whole year of planning passed by so fast.”
Alice wiggled her toes. The water felt good on her feet after the rough surface of the pool. Soon, she’d have bright, flashy toes to match her newly resurfaced face. “Well, you’re marrying the man of your dreams. Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“True.” Cindy’s smile faded, and her expression turned serious. “But I actually wanted to talk to you about something not wedding-related.”
“Oh?” Alice said, keeping her voice light. But her stomach dropped.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Alice. The way he moved. The allergy to sunlight. It’s pretty obvious.”
Alice winced. “Well, it wasn’t obvious to me. Not until I saw the blood. Do you think anyone else noticed?”
“Blood? Andrew would have noticed if he was here, I’m sure. But as far as I know, we’re the only other ones who know about Olivia.” She glanced around, but they were still very alone in the small, private room that had been reserved for their spa treatments. “I don’t think he did anything that would scream vampire.”
Alice let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Her brother probably would have known, but being engaged to a vampire gave him an edge she didn’t have. She’d barely spent any time around Olivia.
“At least, not that would be apparent to anyone who didn’t already know vampires are real,” Cindy continued. “Honestly, if I didn’t already kind of suspect, I think it would have looked more like he was just playing with Brent for the first half of the game.” Her smile widened. “Brent must be pissed.”
“His sun allergy gave him away with you, huh?” Alice asked.
“Yep. Also, there’s sort of an aura about him. Not sure how to describe it, exactly. Like a power. Olivia had that, too, but to a lesser extent than Noah.” Cindy nibbled on her lip, a gesture that revealed her worry no matter how hard she tried to hide it.