Chapter 8 #3
“Yes, I actually do,” she replied. “I mean, it was hard to make the decision to leave New Orleans, but sometimes you have to take chances. You win some, you lose some, as they say. It’s all water under the bridge now. And like you said, maybe my luck is getting better.”
Skylar looked out the window at the sun peeking over Mount Rainier and she prayed things would go back to normal.
Time healed all wounds. Logic told her she simply needed time to process the events of the past couple of days, but she suspected her heartbreak would leave a permanent scar.
But no matter what her heart yearned for, the fleeting relationship she’d had with Rafe was over.
Skylar clutched the side of the leather seat as Sebastian raced his Porsche with precision around a tight curve. The speedometer crept toward ninety-five, and she bit her lip.
Sebastian insisted on driving her to her mother’s house, but when she refused, they agreed on the ferry terminal. From there she’d hop a bus and find her way back home.
Skylar studied Sebastian’s fine Italian suit, which appeared devoid of a single crease. Expensive. Cashmere. Though he appeared younger, he had a mature aristocratic air about him, and she wondered where he called home.
“You like cars?” Skylar gave a small laugh as the car rolled off the exit, decelerating.
“Indeed. It’s invigorating, yes?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“It got your heart pumping blood, did it not?” Sebastian smiled but kept his focus on the road.
Skylar shot him a side eye, wishing they had already arrived. “So are you in Seattle long?”
“I certainly hope not. I have tickets to Giselle next weekend.”
“And I take it it’s not in Seattle?”
“Vienna. The Opera House. Have you been?”
“Regretfully, no.”
“Perhaps one day.”
“Perhaps,” Skylar replied as the car pulled up to the ferry terminal.
“We have arrived.” Sabastian pressed the hazard lights and turned off the car. “Just a second now.” He held up a finger at her as he exited the car and made his way to her side. A gentleman of another time.
Skylar opened her door, and as her foot set onto the cold pavement, a hand appeared. She peered up to Sebastian who took her hand in his. With cool, smooth, strong hands, he helped her out of the car.
“Thank you.” Skylar sensed he was a man of many secrets…ones she’d never know.
“You’re most welcome You’re sure that you don’t want a ride to your parents? It’s no bother.”
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. This is as good as dropping me at my mom’s.” She brought her palm to her forehead as a tinge of embarrassment stabbed her. “I really appreciate everything. If you’re ever in New Orleans—”
“Ah, yes.”
“Swing by the bookstore.”
“Verses, is it?”
“I’ll hook you up with all the bestsellers. It’s on me. Something tells me you’d like the classics.”
“Indeed.” Sabastian smiled.
She nodded. “Okay, well. Guess I’d better get going. It was great meeting you. Thanks again for the flight.”
She gave a wave and headed toward the steps when she heard him call her name.
“Do stay out of trouble, dove. Get some rest.”
“I will,” she glanced back at him and smiled.
Freedom from her ordeal breathed life into her as she made her way to the queue for tickets. I’m safe. Home.
Without Rafe. Alone.
Skylar reached for her grandmother’s quilt her mom kept folded in a basket next to the sofa and tugged it over her lap. She gazed into the fire, her mind still ruminating about what had happened in Las Vegas. With her thoughts spinning, guilt twisted through her.
She took another deep draw of her pinot noir, notes of cherry swirling over her tongue. Despite her best attempts to forget Rafe, thoughts of him persisted.
“Stop thinking about him. It doesn’t matter.
You’re human and he is clearly not. He didn’t even tell you he was a vampire.
Never mind the fact he’s got some other soulmate, some wolf chick waiting for him.
Never mind you aren’t going to let someone bite you.
Never mind you’re talking to yourself like a crazy person. ”
Skylar brought her finger to her neck, recalling his lips on her skin, his touch. “Stop thinking of him.”
As she stared into the fire, her thoughts shifted to Sebastian. Safely at home, her mind raced with questions about the curious stranger who’d flown her to Seattle. What did he do for a living? Who was he meeting in the city? What was he doing in Vienna?
On the plane, she’d gone to the restroom, and as she returned she’d heard the tail end of a phone conversation.
He’d been speaking to a girl who seemed extraordinarily displeased he wouldn’t be in Europe sooner.
He called her Daliah. Her French accent didn’t hide the fury in her words as she pleaded with him to hurry.
She considered she was lucky he’d been kind enough to fly her to Seattle.
Up until the minute he’d dropped her at the ferry terminal, he’d appeared confident, debonair, honest. Yet through the sophistication, his cool smile alerted her to the danger lingering beyond his lightly veiled flirting and she was grateful to have said goodbye.
With a final swig of her wine, Skylar set her glass onto the end table and curled into a ball on her side.
Dizzy from exhaustion, she closed her eyes.
The image of a wolf appeared in her mind.
He howled, running wild through the forest. Rafe.
As Skylar succumbed to sleep, she prayed her heart would recover.