Kyla was dumbfounded. Then she felt her anger begin to rise. She opened her mouth, ready to fire back at him but he cut her off first.
“Don’t even start!” he hollered, making her wince, “I know you didn’t think that a Facebook conversation could be dangerous but now you know. Don’t go getting your haunches all up now because I’m telling you what to do, alright? I don’t need more stress right now just because I’m trying to keep you alive!”
Kyla blew out a slow breath.
They stared one another down for a beat. Finally, she let her shoulders slump,
“Okay,” she said softly, looking away and giving him the win on another stare down contest.
“No bathroom door slamming? No throwing things?” He eyed her warily.
She shook her head, chewed her cheek, and wrapped her arms around herself, not looking him in the eye.
Tristan looked up at the ceiling and shouted, “Hallefuckinglujah!”
She pursed her lips at him and shot him the evil eye. They were both quiet for a minute. Finally, she broke the silence, “An eco-tour and well-digging is more Daisy’s scene than mine.”
“She concocted the story. Not me.”
“Huh?”
“I got her to come up with the story of why you were leaving. She doesn’t know it but she concocted it based on her own dream. You got to live her dream life.”
Kyla flopped onto her back on the bed, legs dangling over the side, “Gorgeous guy, ecotourism, philanthropy, getting married and moving to Spain. Totally Daisy.”
“What’s Kyla’s dream?” He moved to stand over her, their knees touching.
“Right now? Just a second slice of that pizza.” She gave him a smirk.
He straddled her, pinned her wrists, and kissed the tip of her nose,
“I’m crazy about you, you know that? Eat fast. I need to get you in the shower stat!”-12-The afternoon blurred by, getting ready, getting reminded how to act, and getting over her nerves and before she knew it, she was walking into the banquet room on Tristan’s arm, ready to face somewhere around 120 vampires and not quite ready to pretend she was under his thumb.
Opulent was an apt word for this banquet room at the Four Seasons. Everything was meticulous and within a moment of arriving Kyla thought it seemed totally pulled together, not at all like the event had been cobbled together just that morning. Tuxedo-wearing waiters moved through a sea of beautiful ‘people’ with champagne and hors d ‘oeuvres.
A band played soft music and dozens of people swarmed the large room, mingling, dressed to the nines. Tables all had bouquets of red roses on them with black linen tablecloths and there was a black and red banner on one end of the room that said Kovac. The sandwich board outside the banquet room had said Kovac Capital in red on a black background. Kyla eyed it but tried her best not to look curious. Every one of the guests wore some sort of masquerade mask and every single one of them was fit, young-looking, and good-looking. Totally A-list.
Kyla walked in, holding Tristan’s arm. She wore a delicate eye mask in black glitter with a few red feather tips that fringed the upper half. The mask matched her halter dress and her glittery red-soled shoes. Her hair was up with several tendrils cascading down her throat. Tristan had told her to tell the stylist he wanted it worn down but the stylist, Enrique, was very boisterous, very gay, and very verbal about the style he envisioned for her hair based on the dress and her throat, which he’d called elegant (to which, she’d seen Tristan mutter under his breath, ‘and biteable’).
Kyla had whispered to Tristan that maybe he should tell the stylist what to do as he would have the powers of persuasion but Tristan declined quietly and just watched her being primped while working on his laptop. Kyla had the makeup girl put some concealer on her throat and it did mute and blur the bite marks a bit.
The makeup girl was a lovely Russian girl who took Kyla into the bathroom to handle the waxing of Kyla’s brows, under arms, legs, and bikini area. She was beautiful with long sleek black hair, almond shaped green eyes and huge boobs. When Kyla saw her eye colour she felt fear rise in her. Tristan was into green eyed brunettes. The girl devoured Tristan with her eyes but he barely even glanced in her direction.
“Amorous sexy man you’ve got there? Lucky girl!” The Russian whispered into Kyla’s ear as she patted concealer onto Kyla’s throat marks, “I love it rough like that,” the girl said in a husky voice, gazing Tristan’s way. Kyla blushed but said nothing.
He’d given Kyla a silver cuff bracelet for the wrist that was marked up from a bite and a silver and ruby collar that took the attention from most of the bite marks on her throat with a silver chain with a dangling teardrop shaped ruby that came down to her cleavage, which was evident via a keyhole cut-out on the halter dress. Small red teardrop ruby studs adorned her ears. Tristan had thought of everything and she felt worthy of being on his arm once she was ready to go. He had talked to her at length before their short drive in the back of a limo about behavior.