“Does it bother you that he’s a vampire?” Kyla asked.
“Dreamy vampire,” Sam corrected, mumbling with his mouth full and snickering with amusement.
“Hmm?” Julia looked confused.
“A vampire,” Kyla said.
Julia tilted her head like she couldn’t comprehend what Kyla was saying.
“Would you be upset to know that you’re under a vampire voodoo spell? He drinks your blood, you know. And you won’t remember it or him when you get home.” Kyla purposely looked at Julia with wide eyes and then waited for a reaction. When there wasn’t one, Kyla laughed sardonically.
Julia giggled but looked blankly at her.
“That’s enough.” Tristan said, a slight edge to his voice.
“What? Why? It won’t hurt her feelings, will it? Oh wait, right,” Kyla fired back, “You folks don’t care about her feelings. She’s just a bleeding fuck toy.”
She caught sight of Sam glancing in her direction with a disapproving look on his face. “Got yourself a real sparkplug there, Tris..” Sam mumbled.
Tristan ignored the comment and his tone softened, “She is on a sort of cruise control or auto pilot right now.” Tristan touched her cheek and leaned in, “She won’t comprehend anything or be capable of anything other than small talk. All you’re doing here is working yourself up.” His phone rang and he backed up and answered it, strolling toward the opposite end of the courtyard.
She started smearing jam on a piece of toast with a scowl on her face. She felt beyond bitchy and probably annoyed too because she wasn’t getting a reaction from Tristan. She watched Julia, who was eating bacon and staring off into space. Then, she couldn’t take it anymore. She anxiously shifted in her seat and looked over in Tristan’s direction. As he ended his call and returned to the table she said, “I get it. I’ll just be a brainless Barbie doll and pretend this isn’t the most fucked up scenario ever. What-ever.” Kyla stood up, “I don’t need to see any more of this.” She dropped her napkin and pushed her chair back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Tristan glared at her, his brows raised.
“Back upstairs.”
“Sit,” he motioned to her chair.
She shook her head, “No. I’ve lost my appetite.”
His jaw clenched, “I said sit.” Tristan was 100% alpha all of a sudden and was in her space. Kyla was about to protest but he towered over her, an inch from her and looked down at her like he meant business. Her throat instantly went dry. She slowly sat, feeling her face heat up as she descended.
He glared at her with a look that shook her to her core, then leaned over and softly but menacingly spoke into her ear, “The way you’ve been behaving so far does not work. Now, listen and listen very carefully; that phone call I just had means that this breakfast has new meaning and it’s life or death. Life or death. Right now. Understand me? This is not a drill. Sunglasses.” Kyla felt a chill run up her spine. She looked over at Sam who was leaning back in his patio chair smoking a cigarette and fiddling with a gold lighter while regarding her with a serious look on his face. The sliding doors from the house opened.
“Mr. Walker, Mr. Tsakos and Miss Jamieson are here.” The housekeeper said with two people behind her.
Kyla looked at Tristan. Walker. She hadn’t known his surname up until now.
“Sunglasses,” he repeated under his breath and then plastered a smile onto his face.
A Mediterranean-looking man with dark hair and dark eyes walked out onto the patio then. He looked about thirty or thirty five. He wore a black suit and black shirt with no tie and was talking on a cell phone as he strolled out. He was good-looking and as tall as Tristan. He spoke into the phone in another language, Greek, maybe. A young and bored-looking petite redhead dressed in a white fitted bodice sundress with a full skirt, red sandals, and red sunglasses walked behind him.
Kyla quickly pulled her sunglasses off her head as they’d been acting as a headband and put them over her eyes. Not a drill? That was an understatement!
The man ended his call, “Sorry to call at your doorstep, and so early, Tristan. Cheers for letting us crash here a day early. Our plans changed and I thought perhaps you wouldn’t mind the intrusion rather than us stay in some impersonal hotel.”
Tristan got up and accepted the man’s outstretched hand, “Not a problem, Andre. You’re very welcome. Hello, Becky.”
“Walker,” the young woman muttered under her breath. Kyla saw Tristan’s jaw tighten. What was that all about?
“Who have we here?” The man sat at the table beside Julia who was across from Kyla. His gaze landed on her very bare cleavage.
“Hiya; I’m Julia,” Julia said brightly and sipped her coffee.
“Hi,” Kyla said. Her voice came out hoarse. She cleared her throat as quietly as possible. She could feel Tristan’s eyes on her. She decided to slowly sip her nearly empty cup.