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  A Scent of Longing

  Copyright © 2012 by Cara Bristol

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-269-6

  Cover art by Fantasia Frog Designs

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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  www.decadentpublishing.com

  A Scent of Longing

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  Cara Bristol

  ~DEDICATION~

  To Catherine

  Chapter One

  “Someone named Madame Evangeline emailed me to confirm my appointment.” Lily Dansen nailed her best friend with an accusing stare. “What did you get me into?”

  Her feet curled under her on Lily’s sofa, Roxie Fairchild braved her scowl without a flinch. “It’s for your own good. You’ve moped around long enough. You need to live again.”

  “Date, you mean.”

  “Date. Have sex. Get wild and crazy. Anything!”

  “No man will go out with me once he’s finds out what I am. What happens if I do to someone else what Phillip did to me? I couldn’t live with myself.” Bitterness etched Lily’s voice.

  “You’re nothing like Phillip.” Her expression gentle, Roxie squeezed Lily’s hand. Her touch felt feverish, but Lily knew Roxie was fine; she was the afflicted one. “You have a long future, and you can’t spend it alone.”

  Lily’s brunette curls bounced with the shake of her head. “I can’t date. I’m a vampire now.” The corners of her mouth drooped. “I’m also a terrible judge of character.”

  “You’ve made some bad choices,” Roxie agreed.

  “Married. Wanted for armed robbery. Vampire….” Lily ticked off the losers she’d had the misfortune of dating.

  “That’s why Madame Evangeline’s 1Night Stand service—”

  “—is a bad idea.”

  “—is a good idea,” Roxie continued. “You can get your feet wet before you dive into the dating pool. An evening of hot sex with no strings attached will help you get your mojo back.”

  Lily scrunched her nose up with distaste. “I don’t see how sleeping with a stranger will help me regain my confidence. And what if he has some horrible disease?”

  Roxie chuckled. “A, that’s what condoms prevent. B, Madame Eve screens her candidates carefully. And, C, you’re a vampire now! You’re immune to everything, right?”

  “That’s the only positive thing.” Lily hugged herself. The golden color she’d acquired basking on Santa Monica Beach had faded to pasty white, and she would never be able to tan again. If she so much as stepped into sunlight, she’d sizzle like a potato dropped into a deep fryer. And speaking of which, she couldn’t eat french fries anymore either. Or pizza. Or chocolate. But none of those things mattered.

  Her throat constricted, and she swallowed. “I’ll never have children.” By turning her, Phillip, the rat vampire bastard, had stolen her chance of motherhood.

  “I know, sweetie.” Roxie’s voice brimmed with sympathy. “And damn Phillip for that. But maybe, when you’re ready, you could adopt?”

  “Who’d give a baby to a vampire?”

  “How would they know?”

  “There’d be home visits from a social worker or daytime meetings with an agency, which you know I can’t do!” She raised her hand to halt further painful discussion. “Please, can we talk about something else?”

  “All right.” Roxie blinked and smothered a tiny yawn. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s not your fault.” She was out of sync with the world. The clock had struck midnight and her friend could hardly keep her eyes open, but Lily was wide awake. That pointed to another reason she couldn’t date—how could she explain her unavailability during the day?

  “There’s no way Madame Evangeline could find a guy who would suit me.”

  “She has a gift for connecting people. Besides, I know you. I filled out your online application with your likes, dislikes, and character traits.”

  Annoyance warred with curiosity. Curiosity won. “What did you say about me?”

  “I said you’re twenty-eight, brown-eyed, brunette, curvy, five-foot-five, a hundred and twenty pounds—”

  “Actually, I’m a hundred and thirty,” Lily admitted.

  “I figured you’d want me to shave off a little.”

  Despite her misgivings, she laughed. “You do know me.” Her best friend since the second grade, Roxie was the only person with whom she had trusted her horrible secret—even her parents didn’t know. “What else did you say?” She fingered her good luck charm, an aquamarine pendant. She’d fallen in love with the stone, drawn by its ethereal, calming color.

  “I mentioned you are a graphic artist who works from home, likes children and dogs, are a night person, and you need a man with an open mind.”

  A frightening possibility crystallized. “Did you mention that vamps need not apply?”

  “And have Madame Eve delete the application as a hoax? No. Besides, if you hooked up with another vampire, wouldn’t that be perfect?”

  “Absolutely not.” Lily shuddered. “After what Phillip did, I could never trust another vamp.”

  The odds of meeting a vampire through a dating service probably ranged between slim and none. Not that it mattered, because she wasn’t going. “I’ll email Madame Evangeline and tell her thanks, but no thanks.”

  Chapter Two

  Luc Fortier opened a bottle of French red wine and set it to breathe on the wet bar before drawing the drapes to expose the penthouse’s private balcony. The lights of California’s most populous city twinkled and gleamed twenty floors below. He slid the glass doors open to allow the night breeze to waft into the suite.

  Miles beyond the ocean of lights rolled the Pacific, visible on a clear day from the upper floors of the Castillo Hotel, Los Angeles then disappearing after sundown. But its fragrance lingered, and he inhaled the briny tang. He’d loved the ocean since his first transatlantic crossing centuries ago. Timeless and mysterious, the earth’s water breathed and reclaimed life in an endless ebb and flow. The proximity to the sea made this one of his favorite hotels, and he enjoyed this suite in particular, requesting it every time he visited the area.

  Luc stepped out onto the balcony. Stretching to his full height of six-foot-three, he drew in a breath laden with the perfume of potted jacaranda and crepe myrtle trees.

  Tonight would be his last one-night stand. Each encounter reminded Luc of what he didn’t have—what he would never have.

  He gripped the balcony railing and stared at the city lights. The girl would arrive soon. Madame Eve had warned him she might get there early.

  His arrangement with the matchmaker had been a good one at first. Women fulfilled their fantasies of being seduced by a vampire, and Luc achieved the physical release normally denied to him and satisfi
ed his hunger for sweet, fresh blood, instead having to ingest that stale, bagged stuff. He used to enjoy the dates.

  Used to.

  His spirit ached with the emptiness of disillusionment.

  Many years ago, a village seer had foretold of his mate coming to him in the “bloom of youth.” Although he didn’t look a day over thirty-five by mortal standards, he was three hundred seventy-six years old, well past any bloom of youth—and still unmated.

  Still? He would never be mated. His mixed blood sealed his fate.

  Madame Eve had hinted she had someone special for him this time, but resigned to being alone forever, he had never told her he was a Half Breed.

  He had been created not by a bite, as had all Full Bloods, but by the coupling of a female vampire and a human father. From his mother, he’d inherited his physical strength and muscled physique, excellent night vision, superior sense of smell, and of course, immortality. From his father, he’d acquired the ability to tolerate the sun for short periods, although it did give him a nasty heat rash, and he could partake of some human foods, although he required blood for survival. Despite its physical benefits, being of mixed race condemned him to a lonely eternity. To many Full Bloods, he existed only in myth and lore. But those in the know considered him an abomination.

  After he bedazzled this latest human female, he would call it quits. It had become too painful to seduce young ladies and satisfy their fantasies while his hopes and dreams withered. He’d informed Madame Eve to erase his name from her database after this encounter.

  Shoving aside his misery, he returned inside and flopped onto an elegant silk settee to wait.

  ***

  “Roxie, if I didn’t love you, I’d kill you. I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.” Lily tromped into the high-rise Castillo Hotel, tucked between the swanky burgs of Beverly Hills and Century City. An email had instructed her to meet Luc at nine p.m.

  She glanced around the lobby, half convinced she’d be escorted off the premises as a trespasser. Not only was she trying to pass for mortal, but the hotel’s splendor intimidated her. Lobby proved a misnomer—grand foyer would be more apt. Marble and crystal gleamed everywhere, original artwork graced walls and tables, and massive sparkling chandeliers dazzled her eye. Velvet and silk sofas squared into conversation areas further anchored by thick, luxurious Oriental rugs. Hand-knotted no doubt. No machine knock-offs for the Castillo.

  The urge to flee rose within, but she tamped down her nervousness. You are strong. You are immortal. You are vamp.

  You are scared shitless. Whatever made her think she could rendezvous with a stranger?

  She pressed a hand to her aquamarine pendant, and then tightened her grip on the plastic handle of her overnight case. Undecided how long she’d stay, she had readied a change of clothing and a well-rehearsed speech to explain why she had to leave before sunrise. She’d also fed before she left home so she wouldn’t feel inclined to chomp on her date. Just in case an overpowering hunger swept over her, she’d packed an emergency ration of blood.

  While many vamps found accommodating humans to donate dinner, she preferred the more civilized approach of using blood bank cast-offs procured by Vampires Anonymous.

  VA had helped her navigate the tumultuous waters of the newly turned. Connecting her with the support group was the only decent thing Phillip had done.

  They’d dated for two months without sleeping together. At first, she’d mistaken his reticence to have sex as gentlemanly manners. But as their relationship progressed, and the physicality didn’t, she’d feared he found something wrong with her. Phillip had resisted all her seduction attempts until one evening…. Oh, how she wished he’d resisted that night, too.

  She would never forget the shock of his fangs plunging into her flesh, and the greatest horror of all—that her body relished it. His bite had made her come like skyrockets in flight.

  But even as she’d climaxed, she’d fought to dislodge his teeth from her neck—the worst thing she could have done. He’d cut his lip on his fang, and his blood had mixed with hers. She’d awakened the following evening to find him gone and only a scribbled phone number to prove he’d been in her apartment at all.

  She’d dialed the number and found herself talking to a VA sponsor who told her what to watch for. Her growing bloodlust, elongating incisors, and a too-vivid nightmare confirmed what she’d become.

  If not for the support of VA, she might have walked into the sunlight and ended it all.

  Since she wouldn’t date a vamp, even the helpful members couldn’t cure her aching loneliness or the craving for closeness. That, more than anything, had convinced her to go along with Roxie’s outrageous scheme.

  Sure, she hugged her parents, her sister, and Roxie. But she’d had started to shy away from physical contact. Her mother had begun expressing concern about Lily’s cold, pale skin. If she skipped a meal and got too close to a mortal, the scent and sound of pumping blood ignited a craving—like passing by a restaurant emitting delicious smells when your stomach rumbled with hunger. Synchronizing human contact with her feeding schedule had become a delicate, critical, and onerous operation.

  She probed her incisors with the tip of her tongue. Good. No fangs. Staying full ensured they remained retracted. Squaring her shoulders, she marched to the reception desk before she lost her nerve.

  “I’m Cherie Lamont,” she said, giving the desk clerk the alias Roxie had given her when she signed her up with 1NightStand. “I have a reservation.” She half-hoped he would find no such name so she could abandon this crazy stunt.

  “Ah yes, Miss Lamont. Welcome to Castillo Hotel, Los Angeles. You’re in Penthouse Suite 2004.”

  Penthouse? That made it worse, not better. She’d never stayed in a hotel as ritzy as the Castillo, let alone in a luxury suite.

  “Shall I call a bellman for your luggage?” the clerk asked.

  She glanced at her overnight bag, clutched so tightly her knuckles had blanched even whiter than normal. She eased her grip, met his gaze, and forced a smile. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  The clerk handed her a plastic card. “Insert the passkey into the slot, and the elevator will take you straight to the penthouse floor. If we can do anything at all to make your stay more pleasurable, please let us know.”

  Pleasurable. If he only knew. Lily coughed to cover a nervous giggle lodged in her throat. “I’m sure everything will be fine,” she lied, certainty eluding her. The private elevator whisked her to the twentieth floor silently and far too quickly. Its doors opened, and she stepped out into an elegant anteroom. A gleaming round mahogany table topped by a huge vase of peonies sat in the center. Four doors, two on each side, led to the penthouse suites. Thick carpet muffled the click of her high-heeled sandals.

  She eyed her watch. Eighty forty-five. She’d wanted to arrive before her date to compose herself.

  A huge, gilt-framed mirror leaned against the wall. As she did every time she passed a mirror, she glanced at her reflection to reassure herself she had one. VA had debunked the myth, but she still feared she would wake up invisible one evening. She checked her appearance and pursed her mouth. What had possessed her to pick Red Rose lipstick? The shade had turned her lips into a garish scarlet slash across her ultra-white face.

  Shit. Could I look more like a vampire?

  And if she was going to vamp it up, why hadn’t she dressed more alluring? Her black sleeveless knit dress trimmed inches off her figure, but maybe she should have flashed some cleavage or gone shorter on the skirt. At least she’d worn sexy underwear. She’d bought new stuff for the occasion: an itchy, black lace bra and matching boy shorts that rode up the crack of her butt.

  She faked a smile to verify her fangs didn’t show and trudged off to meet her fate.

  Chapter Three

  The girl stood outside the suite. Luc reared back in shock, and his head hit the wall.

  A vampire! Newly-turned, judging from the freshness his sensitive nose de
tected through the walls. The honey of her blood and her own unique, seductive scent caressed him like a Pacific breeze.

  A desire to copulate and to feed stirred, extending his fangs and awakening his cock. His heart thumped; he’d given up on ever connecting with another vamp. Madam Eve always had advised him when a young lady desired the vampire experience so he could prepare. She’d said nothing about this. What information did the girl have? Did she expect a human male or a vampire? For sure, she wouldn’t want a Half Breed. Perhaps she’d take one whiff and reject him. Or would she? Some females got off on fucking a vamp from the wrong side of the tracks.

  Then again, new vampires didn’t acquire full sensory powers immediately. Smell, such an essential vampire sense, developed over many months. The Fledgling might mistake him for a human—or a Full Blood, if she detected his vampirism at all.

  Commanding his willpower, Luc retracted his fangs. It would be prudent to keep them sheathed until he knew what abilities she had, and what she expected. He could do nothing about his erection.

  Taking a deep breath, he savored the Fledging’s delicate essence. He licked his lips. She expressed her emotions in her scent—hope, a longing to connect, and fear.

  She needed to be calmed, gently wooed. Protectiveness crept over him, spreading from his chest outward, until the anomalous, foreign sensation infused his entire body. His sexual liaisons with human women had evoked little emotion beyond lukewarm sexual desire. Female vamps avoided him and didn’t need his protection, but this Fledgling aroused tender feelings he hadn’t known he had.

  For the first time in ages, perhaps centuries, genuine interest kindled, and Luc ran his tongue over his teeth in anticipation. Arising from the sofa, he dimmed the lights and stepped into a shadowed corner. He could hardly wait to meet this girl, but wanted to observe her before she caught a glimpse of him.