Of The Night

Chapter 1

Lilly smiled behind the wheel of the luxurious stretch limousine as she peeked for the umpteenth time in the rearview mirror. She really couldn’t be happier that evening, and her soaring spirits were very hard to hide. Those damn bug-eyes of hers always gave her thoughts away.

Reason for her glee?

For the fourth time that week, she’d been picked to chauffeur a very special, handsome, and elegantly dressed couple. She was assigned to drive them from a four-star restaurant to their second destination that evening, and she was salivating just thinking of the tip she could expect to get. Yessiree. She was tickled-pink.

What made this assignment even more interesting, in addition to the fact that she knew this gentleman and she knew he was loaded and a generous tipper, he was also strikingly handsome. He was probably the best looking guy she’s ever seen—and she’s seen plenty.

He had dark hair, deep-set sterling blue eyes, and a chiseled face that could grace the cover of any leading magazine in the country. Yeah, yeah. She knew it could just be her bias talking since she’d developed a secret crush for the guy, but she knew she didn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hades with him because he was none other than reclusive billionaire, Marten DeGarnier. Then again, a girl can dream, can’t she?

Then she recalled a conversation she had with her colleagues at Noblesse Limo Service the other day—one she had worked very hard to dismiss lest they find out how she really felt about that way-out-of-her-league hunk.

You know, Lil? Lori, her colleague, had begun the conversation, I think that DeGarnier is a little soft on you.

Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen his dates. I don’t even qualify as chopped liver compared to them.

"Only when compared to them?" Mike teased and was smacked on the arm for being an ass.

Well, he’s been asking you to drive him around town each and every night for the past two weeks, right? Lori had theorized. Why would he do that if he isn’t a little interested in you?

Maybe because I know my way around the Big Apple like nobody’s business? she had suggested.

So, Mike, the youngest among them, had a thoughtful frown on his brow, does he still have a new hot new date every night?

Joe, the eldest of their quartet had chuckled, Jealous, Mikey?

Damn straight, I am! Mike had said with unusual honesty. I can’t even get a hot girl to date me every month, let alone have a different one every night of the week.

Then Lori had to go and say, "So, if we’re right, and Mister MegaBucks is feeling a little sum-sum for our Lil here, does that make her hot stuff, too, Mike?

She recalled blushing to the roots of her hair when she saw Mike blush. Sum-Sum? Really, Lori? She had felt color rise in her cheeks—and could even feel her cheeks burn now as she recalled that conversation. It was an embarrassing situation but what made it even more disturbing was Mike’s reaction to it. Good god. Has he been secretly feeling something for her? She sure hoped not! Her life was complicated as it was without having one of her few friends developing a crush on her!

With fresh color in her cheeks, she raised her gaze and accidentally caught a very intimate moment between the two in the back of the limo. Her color went beacon-red. Unfortunately, she had to look up when the two behind her bent their heads close together, almost as if to share a sensuous kiss. Then to make matters worse, she suddenly felt a tingle in places where she shouldn’t! Good thing sexy DeGarnier was too caught up in his lady-love’s beauty to notice his chauffeur’s discomfort as he whispered something in his date’s perfumed ear.

It was as if her eyes had suddenly gotten zoom-ability because she swore she saw every detail of his full sensual lips—in irritatingly slow motion. She couldn’t help it but that fleeting glimpse had her briefly tremble. That was her cue to give them a little privacy—and herself peace of mind. Her bare finger moved for the button to raise the privacy partition, but just when she was about to push it, DeGarnier’s deep voice filled the limo.

No need for that, Lilly.

He spoke without taking his gaze off the stunning redhead beside him! What? Did the man have eyes on the side of his proud stylishly coiffed head?

She tilted her hooded head back to look quizzically into the rearview. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Impossible. How could he have seen her finger move to the button to raise the privacy partition? No. He must have meant something else, although for the life of her she had no idea what.

Excuse me, sir? No need for what? she asked.

There’s no need to raise the partition.

Okay. So he did mean that. But…how did he know? She frowned as she looked down at the myriad of buttons on the limo door panel and her lips tightened in thought. Then his deep voice tore her out of her thoughts again.

Is something the matter?

She quickly looked into the rearview and smiled. No, sir. I’m just wondering how, um, well— She had to think fast! I just want to give you and your lovely lady some privacy.

He didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he turned his mesmerizing, deep-set sterling-blue eyes on her and she felt the bottom of her stomach drop. As I’ve already informed you, he said with a smile that finally had that stomach drop out of her, no need.

She swallowed big and nodded, trying to stop from thinking naughty thoughts about the gorgeous thirty-something-way-out-of-her-league Marten DeGarnier. She had to keep it professional. She had to focus on those generous tips he always gave her, not his generous lips. Tip, Lily, not lips!

But it was hard. He was just so damned good-looking.

She cleared her throat. As you wish, sir.

Can you wait a moment before driving off? DeGarnier’s gorgeous redheaded date asked her. I’d like a glass of this bubbly, she said with a sensuous purr as she batted eyes at DeGarnier. You don’t mind, do you, Marten?

Of course not, he responded with a breathtakingly sensual smile.

She couldn’t really speak at that moment so she simply nodded. She really didn’t mind waiting a few moments longer before steering the limo into heavy traffic. Those few moments would give her time to bring her senses under control and calm her racing heart. Ugh! She was so pathetic! She was such a silly lovelorn goose.

As the two took their glasses and the chilled bottle out of the hidden cooler, she sat back and let her gaze roam the night life in the heart of the Big Apple. She really didn’t see anything since she was too much aware of the pair behind her. She should be trying to think up ways to finally break her writer’s block.

As usual, her thoughts never failed to bounce around that fascinating man behind her. And as always, the notoriously private DeGarnier was dressed to the t. Apparently, being shy of public appearances didn’t hurt his fashion sense one whit. You’d think it would, but no. Not with DeGarnier. She was of the opinion, though, that he could use more sun. He had a pale complexion although that didn’t say much in New York in fall. Still…maybe he should look into buying a tanning bed for himself?

This evening he looked especially gorgeous…in a gentlemanly way, of course. For this evening outing, he chose a crisp white shirt that he wore under a tailor-made black suit. She was absolutely certain that the black overcoat he wore didn’t have shoulder padding, either. Nope. Those broad shoulders were all his. He was the epitome of sophistication, refined masculinity, and class. That was a fact…according to her and every other woman old enough to care.

He was a tall man with stylishly trimmed dark hair that was combed back over his proud head, and he was blessed with a chiseled, photogenic face. He also had the longest eyelashes she’s ever seen on a guy. They accentuated the silver in his sterling-blue eyes and, she believed, were the reason that his look could make you feel as if you’re floating on Cloud Nine.

With a curious frown, she looked at her own eyelashes in the rearview mirror. Hm. Not bad. She really shouldn’t complain since she never needed mascara, and that was a good thing, too. She had tried putting on mascara once before, and made a mess of it. The cosmetic made her overly large brown eyes excessively larger. They gave the impression of a couple of round headlights—the kind you see on a VW Bug. Hence bug-eye. The very last thing she needed was to attract attention to her disproportionately large eyes by emphasizing them, so the mascara was quickly dumped—which hurt, because it cost her a tidy little sum…something she couldn’t afford to waste.

Oh well. Live and learn.

Despite her financial problems and her writer’s block, she was in a happy mood that evening. She could even handle being in DeGarnier’s magnetic presence and tolerate his playboy antics, because even if he didn’t know it, he had made her week by calling her boss, Paulie, at the limo service and asking specifically for her to drive him. Again. That made it four times this week alone! And he’d been generous with tips each and every time. The nice thing about driving DeGarnier around—aside from being in the presence of such a beautiful man—was the fact that he had money to burn—and she welcomed that kind of altruism with zeal.

Although it was advantageous to her, she briefly wondered why DeGarnier would choose to hire a limo service. He was obviously loaded, and he could afford to own an entire fleet of limousines complete with a professional chauffeur for each and every one of them if he wanted. On the other hand, as a struggling author and limo-driver, who was she to question good luck? Besides, she really needed the extra cash. Living in Greenwich Village was astronomically expensive, so much so that she had to take a second job just to get by.

Up until DeGarnier entered her professional life, she had been scraping by with not much to show for it at the end of the month. With those generous tips she could finally afford to save a few dollars here and there…and she really needed to. She was in desperate need of a laptop. Her word processor was outdated and on the brink of crashing.

As she gave her big eyes a critical inspection while deep in thought, she hadn’t noticed that an extra pair of eyes were inspecting her in the rearview. The man in the seat behind her had raised his gaze and he’d been watching her scrutinize herself and he seemed fascinated by that. When she finally felt his gaze on her, she quickly looked at him in the rearview before she flashed him a big smile.

I’m sorry, sir. I had something in my eye.

Indeed.

Yeah. Of course he didn’t believe her. Thankfully, though, at that moment his lady-love placed a possessive, perfectly manicured hand on his chest, and drew his attention away from her. That would normally irritate her, but she couldn’t be more grateful for that rescue at that moment. The man’s eyes were simply…magnetic, and it made her more than just a little uncomfortable when he set them on her.

She cleared her throat. Ready, Mr. DeGarnier?

Yes, but leave the partition lowered, Lilly.

She nearly swooned. Damn. Even his voice was perfect! He had just enough of an accent—one she couldn’t place—to compliment his velvety-smooth voice. Combined, it just added to his already perfect…perfection.

As his words finally sank in, a quick frown passed across her brow. She realized that he really wanted her to leave the privacy partition down by repeating his request unnecessarily, but it made her curious. Why? Couldn’t he know how uncomfortable it was for her to see him and that stunning redhead together, touching, caressing, and stroking each other? Of course he didn’t! He had no clue that his limo driver had a secret crush on him. Duh.

Yet, even had she not been so attracted to him, those intimate touches and caresses were uncomfortable for anyone to witness between two sexy people—while sharing a relatively small space with them. Public displays of affection have never been her thing, but in limited space it was outright disturbing. Yet, it was almost as if he wanted her to see him and that sexy redhead together. That was, of course, ridiculous. Why would he?

She fidgeted in her seat. Okay, she said. Her gaze flickered over to the redhead beside DeGarnier and she received a cool smile. She returned a polite but professional one before she moved to start the engine. Then she paused again and looked at DeGarnier in the rearview, and she discovered that he hadn’t averted his gaze. It rattled her. How long had he been watching her and, more importantly, how expressive has her face been?

Yes, Lilly?

She decided to give it one last try. I just want to be certain you don’t want the partition up.

I’m quite certain.

At least one of us is, she thought silently, seeing her last chance to find some peace of mind go out the window. Outwardly, she nodded with a smile and finally turned the key in the ignition and brought the heavy engine to life.

As she glanced in the rearview mirror again, she flashed another smile when she discovered that he was still watching her just before a slender, perfectly manicured set of fingers slipped sensually into view and under his chiseled chin. Those naughty fingers took his chin and made him turn his attention off of her—and she realized she could finally breathe! Had she been holding her breath all this time?

She looked away just when the redhead pressed her lips on DeGarnier’s lips. Then she switched on the signal and merged into New York City’s heavy traffic. After a few moments of silence as she maneuvered her way through the busy streets, DeGarnier spoke up again.

So, how is your writing coming along?

She hid her surprise that he’d ask, and nodded. Very well, thank you for asking, Mr. DeGarnier.

I’m not just making conversation, Lilly. I’m genuinely interested.

I know, sir, she said with a kind smile, not believing him for one second.

A few moments of silence followed as she concentrated on merging into another lane while watching an obnoxious driver who appeared to challenge her in his Toyota Sequoia. He was signaling to her that he believed he had right of way—which he didn’t—so she decided to end this little match and cut in front of him. That ended that.

Lilly had never envisioned herself becoming a limo chauffeur. Her aim, as far back as she could remember, had always been to be a writer. Her long-held dream was to become a bestselling one, but life tends to get in the way of best-laid plans. In order to support herself—which included paying the astronomical rent for her tiny apartment in the Village—she took jobs that made her a lot of dough quickly, but with minimal gray-mass effort. She needed most of said gray-mass in order to concentrate on her writing.

Penning her first bestseller took priority over everything else. Even dating. She was already twenty-six and she still hadn’t written her first query letter to an agent or a publisher—and her last date had been in high school eons ago.

She frowned. She realized just how boring her life had become. She mentally sighed. Her writing’s been extremely slow. It was frustrating for her that she couldn’t write that one story she felt she had inside her and what she’d be proud to present to an agent. Now she understood the meaning of writer’s block. It was a bitch.

So for now she was just a chauffeur. Oh, and a part-time bartender at Al’s Bar.

She’d been driving Marten DeGarnier to many parties and galas over the past two weeks. She genuinely liked the debonair man—and not just because he was drop-dead gorgeous, either, although that was definitely a plus! Aside from DeGarnier’s sexy looks, he was intelligent and kind. He was the only person outside her small group of friends who actually showed any interest in her writing—and she didn’t believe he was intelligent just because he asked about her writing, either. For all she knew, he was just pretending to be interested.

That said, whether he faked interest or not, he was the only client who had asked her about it after she had mentioned that she was an aspiring author. He even had discussions with her on the merits of writing good fiction, and she had never gotten the sense, not even once, that he was faking it.

Are you writing about vampires still?

She nodded as she kept her attention on the traffic ahead of them. It was busy on the streets. Yes, sir.

The redhead beauty, no longer interested in being ignored, asked, Don’t you think people might get sick and tired of vampire stories?

Her big brown eyes caught catty greens in the rearview. Maybe every once in a while I have my doubts, but after the Stephenie Meyer and Anne Rice successes, I got over it, she said. In fact, I believe popular fascination with vampires will never go out of style. Based on the successes of good vampire fiction, I believe there’ll always be plenty of readers hungry for the next vampire novel, Ma’am.

Ma’am?! the woman said indignantly. It’s still Miss.

My apologies, Miss, she said, forcing a smile to her lips. She really didn’t like the woman.

You have presented some interesting points, Lilly, DeGarnier said. But Miss Strohmfeld has, as well.

Of course he’d think she had, she thought cynically, although she’d beg to differ.

Perhaps… Then DeGarnier allowed a longer than usual pause to follow and she looked into the rearview to find him staring at her—and she nearly jumped! The look in his intelligent eyes seemed to tell her that he knew exactly what she was thinking. But that was impossible, of course, unless…unless he was psychic. And that was just ridiculous.

Yes, sir? She encouraged him to finish his thought.

Perhaps you might consider writing a vampire novel with a fresh perspective rather than succumb to the temptation of penning one of the usual fare?

Of the usual fare, sir? Do you mean by fresh perspective, something like Stephenie Meyer’s sparkling vampires?

Do you intend to write a novel for the youth, then?

She frowned and shook her head. No.

Then you have your answer.

Her eyebrows popped. O…kay. So no sparkling vampires.

Since you have chosen to write for an adult audience, should you then not attempt a fresh perspective that would appeal to them?

I still don’t know what you’re getting at, sir.

I’m referring to a dark but genuine romance of the creature of the night.

She raised curious eyes and looked at him in the mirror. "Dark romance?"

Yes. Why not pen a fresh perspective of an old vampiric concept—a concept such as biting necks, for example. That’s rather crude. Perhaps you may choose to create a vampire who may bite the necks of victims he chooses to eradicate, yet when he takes his lady to bed, his bite is kinder, sweeter, and romantic. It may be exactly what the public craves.

Thank you for that perspective, sir, she said with a doubtful look. But to be honest, I wouldn’t know where to begin.

Begin at the beginning, he said. Use your own experience of romance and combine it with your imagination.

Hm. She nodded. You make valid points, Mr. DeGarnier. Still, she shrugged, it’s much safer to keep to the norm. I hope to write a better paranormal story. I don’t want to veer off the beaten path and change well-established traits of infamous fictional characters that might alienate voracious readers and fans of that genre. That’s the wisest thing to do, don’t you think?

That would depend on how beaten the path is.

"Well, I don’t know about much, but I know at least this: publishers aren’t trailblazers. They appear to be very comfortable with the beaten path—no matter how beat up it is. They don’t like risky ventures. Besides, she shrugged as she drove into the wide boulevard, I could write the next literary best-seller, but if no one wants to publish it and no one knows about it, it’s game over."

Perhaps I can help you.

She shot big surprised eyes into the mirror. Was he being serious?

What?

Perhaps I can be of assistance to you.

Oh. Okay.

My offer is quiet sincere, Lilly.

Oh, um, I would never say it wasn’t, sir.

Hm. Say, perhaps not. But I’m certain you have had your doubts, however brief, he said, making her frown, but before she could deny the truth of his words, he continued, If you will allow me, I would be honored to offer my services as an advisor.

She looked confused. I didn’t know you were a writer, too, Mr. DeGarnier.

I am not an author of fiction, but I have penned a brief or two.

Do you know much about vampires?

He didn’t immediately answer. Then after a long pause he said, I do.

Her eyebrows popped in surprise. I never would’ve guessed that you’d be interested in vampires.

I would even admit I am most likely the biggest fan of that genre.

Wow. She would’ve never guessed that about him.

It’s apparent that you don’t know me as well as I had hoped, Lilly.

She frowned when it sounded as if he answered her thoughts.

He smiled. I would, sometime in the near future, like to change that.

She smiled. You’re too kind, sir.

I am sincere.

She smiled. I know, she said, lying through her teeth. Then she said with a gush of breath, Well, then hey! I won’t say no to any tips I can get, sir. That’s very generous of you. So yeah—uh—yes, sure, Mr. DeGarnier. I’d appreciate whatever pointers you’re willing to give me.

In fact, she needed advice more than he could know, what with that writer’s block parking itself permanently in her head. But she would have never, not in a million years, guessed that a man like Marten DeGarnier would give her the time of day let alone take time out of his day to help her with her writing. At this point, though, she could use all the help she could get. And although she was still pretty—but happily—taken aback by his offer, she was realistic enough not to hold her breath that