Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 12

For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening hours, Mac spent every moment that Richie wasn't occupied with work, continually answering the question, "Really?" or "Are you sure?". Once he even said, "So, show me something cool."

Jon had given up on answering Richie. He would just shake his head at his friend and walk away. Richie might be having a hard time grasping the concept of Mac being a witch, but Jon knew it would eventually sink in. He was proven right when Richie approached him before the concert and suggested a song to be added to the set list. Jon laughed out loud at the idea, but quickly included the Eagles song, Witchy Woman, on the set list.

The concert went off without a hitch, but during the short after show meet and greet with radio station contest winners, Jon felt that familiar warning again. Quickly and cautiously, he searched the crowded conference room, but he didn't see anyone who didn't seem to belong. His eyes found Mac standing between Richie and David while they signed autographs and posed for pictures. Jon spent another hour smiling and signing his name, but continually kept an eye out for Mac. Whoever was lurking around, Jon didn't want them anywhere near her. He wouldn't feel completely comfortable until they left Portland. Jon knew whatever vampire was sneaking around to get a look at him wasn't a friend, otherwise they would have already come forward.

The flight to San Francisco was short. By 2am local time, Mac and Jon were settled into adjoining suites. Once again, Mac was touched by Jon's discretion, but there was still that nagging little thought in the back of her mind that his discretion wasn't to protect her, that it was in fact to protect himself. He was, in the eyes of the world, a married man after all.

Mac was getting settled into her room, when there was a knock on the door between her room and Jon's.

"Come on in," she called out.

He opened the door, but didn't enter the room. Instead, he casually leaned one shoulder against the door frame. He was shirtless, with his arms crossed over his sculpted chest. His crossed ankles drew her eyes and she realized he was barefoot. Jon was wearing nothing but a pair of jogging pants, that rode so low on his hips she could see his hipbone. "You could've just told me in my head," he told her, smiling. The lines normally around his eyes weren't there; he had dropped the glamour. Jon had been doing so whenever they were alone since the night he'd told her what he was, but it still threw her for a loop every time.

"I guess I'm just not used to communicating that way, yet," she answered him from the doorway leading into her bedroom.

To anyone else he would seem relaxed, but to Mac, he looked ready to pounce, standing there still smiling at her. His stance reminded her that he was a predator, and she felt like dinner. Somehow, that didn't bother her as much as it would have before he'd bitten her earlier in the day. She blinked, and suddenly he wasn't across the room anymore, but standing right in front of her and reaching up to pull the scrunchie from her hair. Her ponytail didn't stand a chance against his long fingers, and her tresses fell around her shoulders.

"How did you...," she started to ask, but at his raised eyebrow she let the subject drop. He had crossed the room with lightening speed courtesy of his vamp powers.

She felt the fluttering sensation in her head right before his husky voice sounded in her mind. But, I want you to get used to talking to me this way, moglie mia. It adds intimacy, don't you think? His fingers laced through her hair, as he combed it back off her shoulders. The smile was still on his face, but now it seemed like a lazy, sensual smile with his blue eyes ablaze with desire.

Refusing to give into his unspoken demand, she told him out loud, "I've been meaning to ask you what that endearment means in English. It is Italian, right?"