Waiting in the Wings

befuddled expression. The bodyguard set it down behind Minion on the seat and backed away. The imp hopped down and bounced on the seat once before sitting. She shifted, as though crossing her legs, and tapped her claws on the file folder.

“I am…”

“Richard, Prince of New York—giver of fabulous orgasms. I know.”

He managed not to choke on his wine—but only barely. Clearing his throat, he set the glass down. “And you are?”

“Minion. But you know that, Mr. Prince Big Shot.” Hostility and annoyance twisted in the little one’s tone.

“I seem to have offended you somehow.” He studied the large, almost luminous eyes staring back at him, unblinkingly.

“You can’t have Kiki.” Minion flattened her hand against the folder. “You can play, make her happy and then you can go away.”

Not going to happen. A snarl strained against the jesses of his control, but he smoothed it over. He handled negotiations regularly through the centuries—often with despicable nuisances. He could manage an imp. “I’m sorry you feel that way. What can I do to set your mind at ease?”

“Hmmm.” Minion cocked her head to the side. “Leave.”

“No.” He reclaimed his wine for another sip and let his gaze wander away from the creature.

“But you have to. I won’t let you take Kiki away.” The imp folded her arms across her chest and glared. The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end. Nostrils flaring, he scented only the mildest hint of sulfur. The imp was young—very young. Her magic was nowhere near its maturity, which meant she couldn’t set him on fire.

He could afford to be patient with her. “If you wish to bargain with me…”

“Bargain?” Minion jumped to her feet and hopped onto the table. She marched across the wood, pointing a clawed finger at him. “No, sir. I came here to threaten you.”

She was barely a foot away from him. He could snap her neck before she took another step. Anton and David twitched, but he shook his head once, and they remained where they were. “And how do you plan to threaten me, little one?”

“I don’t know. But I am.” She stomped her foot and the bottle of wine jumped. He caught it before it could spill.

He suppressed a smile. She was well and truly angry with him. “You care about Kristina that much?”

“Her name is Kiki.”

“No.” He shook his head, offering her a hint of sympathy. “Her name is Kristina. She may go by Kiki now, but she was Kristina when she was born, and she will always be Kristina to me.”

“I don’t like Kristina.” A plaintive note entered the Minion’s voice.

“I don’t particularly care for Kiki, either. So we are at an impasse.”

“No. We’re at the Midnight Mystery Lounge. She’s Kiki here—says so right there.” Minion pointed to the poster hung on the wall near the stage. Richard sighed. His bride blew a kiss to the camera. If those posters were everywhere outside the theatre… He swept a look around the theatre…nearly every table was full. She packed the house with her performance.

“Very well.” He could concede this to the little creature and perhaps draw her attention back to the file folder. But the moment his gaze touched on it, Minion leapt backwards and gripped the manila folder tightly. Pretending innocence, he lifted his brows. “Problem?”

“You can’t look at this.” She hugged the folder to her chest.

“Okay.” He nodded agreeably and glanced at the stage. He resisted looking at his watch. Kristina told him she would join him after the show. So where was she?

“She’s probably washing off her makeup and dancing with the girls. But she’s coming. She told me to wait for her here.” The imp spoke with the defiant air of one who wouldn’t have joined him otherwise.

“You really care about her, don’t you?” He could appreciate the affection.

“I love her. She’s my best friend. I won’t let you take her away.” The trembling lower lip spoke volumes for the imp’s emotional investment.

“I love her too.” Why the hell he was confessing this to Minion, he didn’t know. But maybe it would make her feel better about the whole situation—particularly if it turned her into his ally. He leaned forward, hands on the table. “I have loved her for a very long time and missed her for far too long. We were happy together.”

“Yeah?” Minion’s nose wrinkled and her ears swiveled forward, her attention focused on him. “Then where have you been for the last fifty years?”

“That’s an awesome question.” Kiki strolled around the edge of the booth and leaned against Minion’s side of the booth, arms folded and chin lifted. “I know we knew each other. I didn’t know that last night, but I know it now. So where have you been all my life, Richard? And why the hell don’t I remember you?”

Her heart had raced from the moment she stepped on the stage until the final curtain dropped. She’d dreamed of stepping up center stage, taking lead and bringing the house down. But taking control also meant bearing the brunt of the responsibility. The sheer joy she took in dancing couldn’t quite overcome the nervous zing. The improvised show went darker than she expected, but “hunting” her sisters on that stage felt good.

Good and right.

Richard had watched her from the audience. Even in the uneven darkness, her gaze found him unerringly. He drew her like the proverbial moth to his incandescently cold flame—why the hell do I think of him as cold? His passion consumed her, searing heat and unquenchable lust. In the audience, however, a deep inner light shimmered about him—blazing brighter than anyone else. Her mock hunger toward the end became very real and, if she’d possessed actual fangs, she would have sunk them into Britta’s neck.

She lingered longer backstage, apologizing to her friend, and delayed her meeting. She might have skipped it altogether, but when she peeked out into the post-show audience, she saw Minion at his table.

Halfway to the table, uneasiness and questions had swirled around her like an unstable whirlpool. She wasn’t sure what she planned to say to him—if anything at all.

“You really care about her, don’t you?” Richard’s dark chocolate voice had poured over her, soothing and arousing.

“I love her. She’s my best friend. I won’t let you take her away.” Minion’s unabashed declaration brought a smile to Kiki’s lips. She adored the little rascal.

“I love her too. I have loved her for a very long time and missed her for far too long. We were happy together.” The statement thrust a hot poker into her gut. The heat seared through layers of ice shackling her heart. The painful melt thawed her unease and filled her with questions. She knew him—she’d remembered that much in the dressing room. But he’d loved her for a long time?

He spoke to and about her with a familiar intimacy. Why? The question pounded against the inside of her skull, smacking with every thud of her heart.

“Yeah?” Minion’s voice filled with skepticism and challenge. “Then where have you been for the last fifty years?”

“That’s an awesome question.” Spurred into motion, Kiki forced her feet to move, one in front of the other, until she arrived at Minion’s side of the table. This close to Richard, a wild hunger surged through her. The familiar ache in her gums swelled with a vengeance. “I know we knew each other. I didn’t know that last night, but I know it now. So where have you been all my life, Richard? And why the hell don’t I remember you?”

He rose to his feet in a smooth, artless gesture. A hopeful smile turned up the corners of his lips, but she ignored the lust surging through her insides. Answers before pleasure.

Whoa…answers before lust? Where the hell did that come from?

“Kristina.” He held out his hand, and she studied it and him. Uncertainty quivered through her. But she refused to be chased away—or to be afraid. She took his hand, intending to shake it and retreat, but the feeling of his palm gliding along hers awoke a fresh wave of lust and eagerness. With surprising charm, he bowed his head and lifted her hand to his mouth. The whisper of his lips feathering the gentlest of kisses to her knuckles unspooled her tension.

“Richard.” He glanced up and smiled. Her heart did a little flip-flop. She would do anything for that smile— anything. Kill, steal, maim—suffer—it didn’t matter. With regret, she pulled her hand away and folded her arms