She felt a startling sizzle of awareness when the door opened and Johnny stepped inside. Had he come looking for her? Filled with a nervous sense of excitement and apprehension, she licked her lips and ran her fingers through her hair.
He smiled when he saw her.
She lifted her hand in acknowledgement, then delivered her drink order to a booth in the back. When she turned around, Johnny was sitting at one of the small tables near the front window. One of her tables.
“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” she said, her order pad at the ready. He looked quite handsome in a pair of dark slacks, a white shirt and a thigh-length black coat.
“I was out for a walk and …” He shrugged. “I thought I’d stop by for a drink. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s a free country. What can I get you?”
“A glass of red wine, please.”
Nodding, she made her way to the bar, conscious of his gaze on her back.
Giovanni glanced around the room. He rarely frequented nightclubs, preferring to hunt in less crowded venues. He had spent far too much of his existence alone, he thought ruefully. Perhaps it was time to change that.
He murmured his thanks when she returned with his drink.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Cassie remarked.
“I was hoping I might walk you home.”
She hesitated a moment, then said, “I get off at two a.m.”
“I’ll meet you at the door.”
With a nod, she moved to another table.
Giovanni sipped his wine, content to sit and watch her as she took orders and served drinks. Twice, he was tempted to interfere – once when a man tried to place his hands on her and a second time when another man made a lewd suggestion – but she seemed capable of fending both of them off without causing a scene.
When he finished his drink, he left her a hefty tip, lifted his hand in farewell and took his leave. He had plenty of time to hunt before he was meet her.
Cassie applied fresh lipstick, tucked a lock of hair behind her hear, took a deep breath and stepped outside, wondering if Johnny would really show up. Most people, working or otherwise, were in bed by now, she thought, but maybe he didn’t work. Maybe he was a bored, retired millionaire who’d grown weary of dating wealthy socialites and had decided to go slumming. She shook her head. He didn’t seem like the millionaire type, but then, how was she to know? She had certainly never met one, nor was she likely to.
She smiled shyly when she saw him waiting for her. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“Not at all.” Drawing his hand from behind his back, he offered her a bouquet of red roses.
Cassie stared at the bouquet, momentarily speechless. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“No one’s ever given me flowers before.”
“Then I’m glad to be the first.”
“They’re beautiful.”
As are you, he thought, but he lacked the courage to say the words out loud.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“Long,” he murmured. “And quiet.”
“Oh? Are you retired?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said, stifling a grin.
“What did you do before you quit?”
“I was a priest.”
She stared at him, eyes wide. “A priest!”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I didn’t know priests left the church. I thought it was a lifetime calling. You know, like being a Supreme Court Justice.”
He shrugged. “It happens.”
“You seem awfully young to be retired. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I was thirty-nine on my last birthday. Might I ask how old are you?”
“Twenty-six. You’re not married or anything, are you?”
“Of course not!” he exclaimed, obviously offended by the question. “Would I be here with you now if I were?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Lots of men cheat on their wives.”
“Well, I would never!”
She laughed at the horrified expression on his face. “I believe you.”
Suddenly at a loss for words, his steps slowed. What was he doing here with her? In mortal years, he was thirteen years her senior. But as a vampire, he had existed hundreds of years longer. Yet he feared she was far more worldly-wise than was he. He knew nothing of women, of intimacy—sexual or otherwise. Of dating. Or marriage.
He was relieved when her apartment building came into view.
She paused at the foot of the stairs. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“I was happy to. You shouldn’t be walking the streets at this hour.”
Frowning, Cassie looked up at him. Walking the streets!
“Is something wrong?”
“Are you implying that I’m a whore?”
“What? No, of course not! What makes you think that?”
“You practically called me a street walker.”
He stared at her in confusion for a moment, then with growing horror as he realized what he had unthinkingly implied. Street-walker. Doxy. Lightskirt. “Cassie, please forgive me. That’s not what I meant at all.”
She found herself grinning at his stricken expression, and then she laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been called that and worse at the Winchester.”
He was surprised to find himself laughing with her. And even more surprised when she went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
Murmuring, “Good night, Johnny,” she ran up the stairs. She stopped at the door and glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you again for the flowers,” she called before going inside and closing the door behind her.
Whistling softly, Giovanni strolled down the sidewalk. Maybe she would agree to let him walk her home again tomorrow night.
Excerpt from Dead Perfect, 2013
Chapter 1
Shannah had followed him every night for the last four months. At first, she hadn’t been sure why, other than the fact that she was dying and out of a job and had nothing better to do.
She remembered the first time she had seen him. She had been sitting by the back window in the Pot Pourri Café across the street from the town’s only movie theater. She had been sipping a cup of hot chocolate
