‘I did,’ he said with an arrogance that would have outraged her—if she hadn’t reached peak outrage already.
First I get groped by Frankenstein, now Dracula is kidnapping me! Could this night actually become any more of a nightmare?
The fact her reaction to Costa was a lot more disturbing and unpredictable than her reaction to Brad the creep wasn’t settling the jumping beans a bit.
‘I’m assuming you signed an employment contract tonight,’ he added. ‘So I amliterallythe boss of you until dawn anyway.’
‘I w-was hired to s-serve drinks,’ she hissed, her legs shaking again. ‘N-not get t-trapped in your penthouse lair, you overbearing...’
‘Give it up, Pixie girl,’ he said, the amused tone and the sparkle of admiration in his eyes almost as infuriating as his astonishing arrogance.
They didn’t celebrate Halloween on Moira, and now she knew why. Because it was fast becoming her least favourite American tradition—right alongside adding taxes you weren’t aware of to every purchase and the widespread belief this side of the pond that Scotland was a part of England.
‘You’re stuck in my penthouse lair until I’m convinced you’re okay, so you might as well enjoy it.’ He brushed his thumb over her chin. The tiny touch sent another disturbing shiver of sensation straight to the hot spot between her legs. But worse was that strange feeling of safety, and security, and the gut instinct to trust he wouldn’t take advantage of her, when she had absolutely no evidence he was any more trustworthy than the blood-sucking count himself.
So not good.
‘I’ll be back in a half-hour. Make yourself comfortable while I’m gone.’
She wanted to protest some more. But unfortunately she seemed to have lost the ability to speak as he marched across the room and disappeared.
Terrific.So what did she do now? She could still leave. He couldn’t actually stop her.
But as she glanced out at the night sky—picking out the ornate splendour of The Plaza across the park—it was hard not to be overwhelmed all over again.
The shivers finally began to subside, making her wonder if they had been a reaction to her fatigue, her fight with Frankenstein, or simply the devastating presence of her billionaire boss.
She slipped the heels off her aching feet, and headed to the drinks cabinet, her bare feet sinking into the exquisitely soft carpeting. She poured herself two fingers of Scottish single malt whisky from a distillery she knew was one of the best in the Highlands.
At least Dracula knows his whisky.
She knocked it back. Fine, she’d take him at his word. She’d have a hot shower, change into some dry clothes and then deliver the line again about not needing anyone to watch over her—withoutstammering. Once she’d passed his asinine test, he would have to release her from his clutches.
And if he thought she wasn’t going to bill him for the extra hour she’d been held captive in his lair, he could think again.
Fortified by the whisky and her righteous indignation, she explored the apartment’s private suites. So this was how the other half lived? She’d never seen anything so luxurious, she realised, as she wandered into an enormous bedroom with no personal touches—which had to be a guest room. She locked the door to the vast en suite bathroom and dragged off the sticky costume. It took her several attempts to figure out how to switch on the shower, which had a control panel that would put a space shuttle to shame. Propped against the granite wall, she let the hot powerful jets pummel her cold flesh back to life.
Her skin buzzed as she wrapped a fluffy towel around herself. She found a pile of designer sportswear neatly stacked in the bedroom’s enormous walk-in wardrobe. The baggy sweat top reached her knees, affording her considerably more modesty than her elf costume. She added a pair of boxer shorts and some white cotton socks—because the sweat pants were way too big for her.
Once she’d passed Costa’s silly test, she could get her own clothes from the staff quarters. She returned to the living area and sank into one of the buttery leather sofas. The room’s lighting had dimmed automatically. Her eyelids drooped as she stared at the blinking light of a plane, flying over the towering skyscrapers stacked like building blocks on the other side of Central Park. The cosy burn of the whisky in her stomach spread to envelop her whole body.
She dropped her head onto the armrest. But as her eyelids drifted shut, cutting out the stunning view of Manhattan at night, she found herself dragged into a vivid dream featuring a staggeringly hot and pushy vampire, with a pair of fangs that raked over her erect nipples and made the hot spot between her thighs become a volcano of molten need.
CHAPTER TWO
THATHADTObe a first, Alex thought ruefully, as he gazed down at the enraged Scottish pixie who was now sound asleep on his couch. When was the last time a woman had fallen asleep in his place without being in his bed?
Then again, he had no plans to hit on her. Not only was she still in his employ, she had just been through an ordeal. First thing tomorrow, he planned to ensure that jerk Bradford Radisson IV and his investment fund were blackballed all over Manhattan.
Brad had been one of the entitled little bastards who had made Alex’s life hell when he’d been the scholarship kid at Eldridge Prep in upstate New York. Roman Fraser had been the only boy who hadn’t looked down his nose at him because Alex’s old man was a construction worker from the Bronx.
He didn’t know how Brad had even got an invite to the ball. But he intended to make sure it never happened again.
As he studied Eleanor MacGregor—whose name he’d sourced from his now ex-party planner—snoring softly, something weird happened to his chest. She’d certainly given good old Brad a taste of his own medicine—knocking him flat on his ass with an impressive right hook. And she’d been pretty damn feisty with him too, even though she’d looked cold and miserable and ready to face plant the minute he’d got her to his suite.
That she’d somehow managed to captivate him while staring daggers at him he didn’t plan to examine too closely. Chalk it up to Halloween night doing weird things to his libido.
He wasn’t usually attracted to women who thought he was an arrogant jerk.