ey said smoothly. “I was wondering, Jessie, if you might escort this lovely young woman to the Angelus Salon.”
“Of course.”
Isabel started to accompany Jessie, but Aubrey halted her with an upraised hand.
“Not you,” he said softly to Isabel. He turned his head, finally removing his stare from Isabel’s face. She was relieved. His eyes—his nearness—disturbed her.
“I will meet you in the Angelus Salon in a moment…Margarite, isn’t it?”
The auburn-haired woman nodded, her gaze running over Aubrey with a cool gaze that turned warm. She apparently liked what she saw.
“We will settle our business then,” Aubrey told Margarite.
The woman’s eyes widened slightly, as though Aubrey had just given her a secret, intimate caress, although Isabel could clearly see they were many feet apart. Margarite’s lips curved and she thrust her breasts against thin fabric, displaying the areolas of her nipples to full advantage. Aubrey Cane didn’t glance downward. His smile seemed to indicate appreciation of Margarite’s gesture, nonetheless.
He relatched his gaze upon Isabel when Jessie led Margarite away.
“My name is Aubrey Cane. Are you enjoying your stay at Sanctuary, Isabel?”
“How do you know my name?”
He laughed. Isabel almost felt as though she could reach out and touch his charm, it was so thick and tangible. Even so, Aubrey Cane made her wary. Perhaps her skittishness was associated with the fact that she’d watched him making love earlier, and that he’d known of her voyeurism.
“All the Literati know your name, Isabel. You are our resident celebrity.”
“I’m your resident prisoner,” she corrected acerbically. Irritation swelled in her when she recognized the truth of her statement, making her bold. “Which reminds me, I need to go find my jailer. I’m pretty much ready to wake up from this nightmare, and they say the best way to do that is just to confront the monster head on, if you know what I mean. Have a good evening, Mr. Cane.” She nodded once briskly and headed down the corridor with the crest above it.
Aubrey was suddenly in front of her, blocking her path. She’d expected it, but a chill went through her, nonetheless. She’d never seen him move. It was as if he’d just coalesced in the air in front of her.
He took a step toward her and looked down at her with a heavy lidded stare. She swallowed with effort and forced herself to stand her ground.
He looked hungry.
“Do you plan on biting me?” she asked, her fear barely covered by her paper-thin act of bravado.
“I wish,” he replied quietly. His light eyes roved over her face. “Or perhaps you do.”
“Don’t kid yourself.”
He laughed again, his amusement striking her as too rich to be feigned.
“Let me pass. I will speak to Lord Delraven.”
Aubrey’s smile faded as he studied her. “Unfortunately, Blaise has left specific instructions that you are the last person he wants to see.”
“And you follow his every command, is that it? Hail Lord Delraven, the King of the Vampires. I suppose when he orders you to clean his toilet, you ask him if he’d like it done with a sponge or your tongue,” she said irritably.
“I’m not his servant. I happen to be his closest friend.”
“Then he’ll understand when you tell him what happened.”
He smiled wolfishly and stepped even nearer to her.
“And what did happen, Isabel? Please tell me, because I’m spinning from your nearness and don’t know up from down at the moment.”
She rolled her eyes, even though she had to admit, he truly did look a little like he’d been hit over the head. She felt her power over him in that moment as clearly as she saw his face and the shadowed corridor.
“It was all a misunderstanding, a miscommunication between you and Jessie,” she said smoothly. “Both of you thought I was being escorted by the other, and I slipped away in order to escape.”