“If it’s anything like the last surprise, I’ll pass.”
Winnie looks like she’s trying not to laugh. “I’ll just… leave you to deal with this, Arabella. And don’t forget yourspecial jobfor the book club.”
Oh, right. In the throes of discovering Gideon stole my car, I forgot that I’m supposed to find out more about Thralls at Sanctus.
My only other option for getting home is to take a taxi. Arabella Lestrange does not ride in taxis. And I haven’t yet mastered the vampiric skill of turning into hundreds of bats when annoyed.
Think of your revenge. Think of how delightful it will be to watch Gideon’s face collapse as he realises you’ve taken Sanctus from him.
I swallow back my annoyance and smile like I’ve already won. “Drive me back to Sanctus. But if you so much as breathe in my direction, I’m crunching your kneecaps like potato chips.”
Wrath collects in the corners of his eyes. “I learned my lesson at the pole dance studio. Trust me, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.” Gideon gestures to the open door. “Your chariot awaits.”
I slide into the luxurious leather seat. I want to find something to complain about but, honestly, the car is gorgeous. I’d been considering one before I bought my Alfa Romeo, but I didn’t want to drive something conspicuous when I’m trying to lie low in Argleton.
Not that it did me any good. I need to deal with Paul Badica before he opens his big mouth and spoils everything I’ve built for myself.
I sink down in the seat, enjoying the way the leather hugs my body. Gideon slides into the driver’s seat, plants his foot on the gas, and the car leaps away.
I must admit, I love the low rumble of the engine and the way it grips the road as we tear out of the village and into the farmland, heading the long way towards Sanctus’ western gates. Gideon handles the winding country roads with ease. He oozes Bond villain energy as he allows the car to joyfully do what it does best – fly around corners and make my heart pound like my human friends’ at a Black Friday book sale.
I pretend not to notice him glancing over at me every few seconds, or the way I keep having to tear my eyes away from the veins along his forearms.
As we careen down an avenue of ancient oaks, Gideon slows to a stop and pulls over on the side of the road.
“Do you want to drive?”
His wicked grin makes warmth pool in my chest.
“You’d let me behind the wheel?”
“I see the way you’re biting your lip. You can hardly contain yourself. If Arabella Lestrange wants to tame this beast, then she’s welcome to try.” He pauses. “Just don’t go too fast. This thing has a hair-trigger accelerator and it can run away with you—”
“Speed doesn’t kill vampires, Gideon. It’s suddenly becoming stationary that makes all the mess.”
“Well, please don’t make a mess. I have to keep the leather pristine or Winnie will never accept a ride from me again.”
I momentarily forget how much I hate Gideon in my haste to scramble around to the other side of the car. He steps out and makes some grand gesture, which I ignore. I slide into the driver’s seat, my feet finding the pedals. The leather hugs my curves like it was made for me.
Gideon opens the door to climb into the passenger seat, but I plant my foot and the car leaps away.
The wind slams the door shut, and I’m alone in the most beautiful machine humans have ever created. I cackle like a witch who’s just discovered a self-cleaning cauldron.
I know I’m supposed to be seducing him, I know I’m waiting for my real revenge, but the look on his face as I left him in my dust was too good to resist.
I tear through the woodland path, carving up the corners and making the tyres squeal. My heart leaps in my throat, my breath hot and heavy as the rush of adrenaline warms my icy veins.
It’s been a long time since I felt this free.
Not since the hot air balloon over Paris, or the night—
No. Don’t think about that night. Don’t let yourself believe this warmth in your veins or the pulse between your legs is because of Gideon.
He betrayed me.
He stole from me.
He burned my theatre.
