Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(22)

"By the way, I forgot to tell you that you look very ... nice," she heard him say.

"Thank you," she said. Victoria was absurdly flattered by the compliment, and then scolded herself in the same breath for feeling anything at all.

"I am really happy that you decided to come here with me."

"Did I really have a choice?" she asked with a dry look. He had the grace to look sheepish.

"No, I guess not," he agreed.

"I came to Portland once with my Aunt Holly for my birthday, years ago."

"So when is your birthday?"

"Was. Back in May."

"Well, happy belated. So let me guess, seventeen? Eighteen? You hu ... kids look older and older these days."

"Seventeen," she replied automatically, and then stared at him. "Us, kids? Come on, you're hardly that much older than I am!"

"I am wise beyond my years," he quipped. "Here we are."

The Italian restaurant was small and cozy, and they could see the water from their table. Victoria studied Christian openly as he enjoyed the view. His skin was youthful and his body toned, but something about his eyes did make him seem older, more mature. His pale compelling face was like a Botticelli painting, and his ridiculously long lashes lent a certain innocence to his face, which was in severe contrast with the danger she sensed lurking beneath the surface whenever she was with him. Victoria had to admit she was very curious about Christian Devereux. He seemed to have so many secrets hidden behind those enigmatic eyes.

She took the plunge. "So Christian, what's your story?"

"What would you like to know?" Although his eyes remained warm, she couldn't help noticing that his tone grew noticeably cooler.

"Well, what brought you to the thriving metropolis of Canville, Maine for one?" she said, leaning forward in a journalistic pose. "Where did you grow up? Do you have any brothers and sisters? How were you able to get up and walk away after what I did?" She had slipped in that last question so smoothly that Christian almost didn't notice. Almost. Victoria was staring at him intently, but his face remained a carefully composed mask, giving away nothing. She sighed theatrically. A ghost of a smile appeared.

"I was born in New York but I spent most of my life in Paris, including my childhood and early teenage years. I have a"—Christian hesitated, then continued in an almost dispassionate tone—"twin brother, he is still there." Victoria's eyes widened as she digested that information. He rushed on as if he just wanted to get it out in one go. "My parents are dead although I have a few cousins and other extended family still in France. Then I moved to America to study, moved around here and there, and pretty much ended up here at Harland with my program. Et voilà." He spread his hands and inclined his head in the mockery of a bow.

"That was the fastest synopsis of someone's life I have ever heard! And you managed to tell me absolutely nothing. Saying just enough without saying too much so perfectly—it's an art!" Her voice was nonchalant despite the amulet burning a hole in her chest.

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't even know you. You could be dangerous."

Her cheeks flooded with violent color at her blunt comment, and Christian leaned forward in magnetic impulse. His jaw tightened and pain shadowed his face for an instant before he changed the subject abruptly.

"Tell me more about the hospital." His tone was brusque and Victoria stiffened but welcomed the change of topic.

"Not much to tell." She unconsciously echoed his curt tone. "I told you that I had some sort of blood poisoning, which the doctors thought was a form of acute leukemia when some abnormal cells tried to take over."

"Did they?"

"Did they what?"

"Take over?" Christian's tone was light but he was watching her carefully.

"I recovered, didn't I?" Victoria could be evasive too. After reading the journal, she knew she had to be more careful. She could play the offense as well. "Tell me how you managed not to get hurt when I threw you."

Christian smiled a slow, lazy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Perhaps I am like you," he said.

"I sincerely doubt that!"

From that point on, their conversation began to degenerate into an evasive verbal exchange. They circled each other like two alpha lions, each waiting for the other to make the first move and neither willing to trust the other. Before long, their check arrived, and they walked to the car. The ride back was quiet, with long awkward silences, and Christian spent most of the time looking out the window, preoccupied.

Victoria focused on driving as she pulled off the exit, her own thoughts chaotic from the strangely charged dynamic between them. She jumped as his soft voice broke the silence.

"It's just up here on the right."

She pulled into a curving driveway lit with ornamental lights that led to the front of a majestic house.

Victoria switched the engine off and turned to face him. Admittedly, she didn't want the night to end, even if the ride back had been uncomfortable. A part of her didn't want him to leave, the insistent part that was drawn to the danger lurking just beneath the surface, like a moth to a flame. She wanted ... her gaze dropped to his lips and she hastily averted it ... she didn't know what she wanted!