Chapter 2

The first class deck was a palace, complete with a swimming pool, veranda, and a large grand staircase. Helen felt like she were to meet royalty at any moment, most likely she already had.

Luckily, with her connection to the Captain she had managed to purchase a first-class ticket, and thus, enjoying the privileges of the first class deck, shaking hands with millionaires and nobles.

She had been invited to the first class Smoking Room by American millionairess Margaret Brown, and whatever posse she had managed to rope in to play a rousing game of poker.

Helen, fortunately, fit in well with the fancy crowd. Her father was a well respected in many circles before he had disappeared, she was used to a very high-class group of people.

They passed glass after glass of brandy down to her; she sipped casually, not really in the mood to drink all her inhibitions away, especially with so many men leering at her. Molly, of course, had no problem with the men, drinking, chatting, and smoking as if she had a pair underneath her petticoats.

After awhile, Helen excused herself to step outside for a breath of fresh sea air.

The gown she was wearing, given to her by Molly, was floor length and sleeveless. Her neck and most of her shoulders were generously exposed, save for the long, white, silk gloves that came up to mid-bicep, and the teardrop diamond necklace that just dipped into her cleavage.

The cool breeze brushed against her skin and she welcomed it, the warmth of alcohol and cigars caused the pale skin to pink slightly and she enjoyed the refreshing air.

The moon cast a halo of light on the dark ocean. She just stood and breathed it all in.

Suddenly, a hand snaked around to her hip, and Helen gasped at the sudden, and definitely inappropriate appendage. There was someone no more than a few inches behind her; she could feel his heat. His other hand slowly crept to her other side, holding her hips.

Helen felt the distinct urge to turn around and knee the offending stranger in the gut, but all thought was drained from her mind as his lips just gently touched the back of her neck, kissing a trail along her shoulder line, then back to her throat to right above the pulse point. If it didn't feel so good this man, as abrasive as he was, would be dead.

She couldn't see the man who was assaulting her neck as his face melded into the shadows of the dark moonlit deck. Helen wondered if she could let herself go as far as to sleep with this man without looking at his face or asking his name, just let him kiss away all the tension from her body. These were the years of change; all those Victorian sensibilities she was raised with were swiftly becoming non-existent. The world was new and innovative. She could be as well.

She relaxed slightly into the strangers embrace, letting his soft touch tingle down her spine. His hand lowered from her waist to gently caress her thigh. It had been a long time since someone had held her so delicately, with such gentility. It was luxurious and exciting.

Helen kept her hands firmly on the railing, thankful for her white gloves, because no doubt the force of which she was squeezing the metal would've cut her skin.

The stranger's hand crept up her bodice to just above her diaphragm; long tantalizing fingers pressing into her skin, each releasing more tension till she felt like jelly against this mysterious lover's ministrations.

All of a sudden, the lips that had been softly ravaging her throat were replaced by two sharp points hovering right over her carotid artery. The tension flooded back into every muscle, and she stood upright, out of the comfortable, strong arms she had almost let herself become prey to.

She knew exactly who this was and she wanted to kick herself. It was so much better when he was a nameless stranger.

"Nikola," she growled, feeling his lips curl into a devious smile against her skin.

He chuckled as he pressed one last kiss on the peak of her shoulder, nuzzling the skin there softly. Helen turn to look at him.

"I should've known it was you," she looked at her old friend unamusedly. His ice blue eyes twinkled with starlight, and his boyish grin obnoxiously stared her in the face.

"I'm sorry, Helen, I couldn't resist, I haven't seen such a gorgeously exposed neck in over a decade," he grinned even wider.

"What if someone was watching?" she glared at him.

"Have you ever known me to back away from an audience?" he chuckled slyly.

"I see that age hasn't made you more the gentleman," she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Only when you're around, my love," he moved with abnormal speed and captured her in his arms again, his lips a hair's breadth away from hers, his hands on her sides, gently holding her in place. "Besides, my dear Helen, you were enjoying yourself."

He grinned again and Helen lifted up her heel and slammed it down on the soft part of his show, causing him to release her.

"What are you doing here?" she barked at the Serbian, stepping away from him.

"I needed a ride back to New York, and this was the only ship available," he shrugged.

"You snuck onto the Titanic?" Helen's eyes widened.

"No, I have a ticket," he removed the stub from his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

"Nikola! This is a first class ticket, how could you afford this?" she looked up at him incredulously.

"I've been having a bit of a lucky streak recently, as I haven't been tied down by contract and my tower being repossessed, and no one has been forcing me to pay debt, I have found my financial difficulty to be almost nil…plus, J.P. Morgan wasn't going to use it," Nikola looked at his hands as he spoke.

"You mean you stole it from him," Helen rolled her eyes at him.

"It's only fair! He stole my tower!" Nikola whined, then he stopped and grinned. "Besides, when I heard you were attending this voyage there was no way I could say no."

"You do realize that you are no better than a petty thief," she handed him back the ticket.

"Yes, but don't worry, I didn't use my real name. For all they know I am Javor Dragoslav, rich foreign businessman on my way to New York to make fortune," he accentuated his slowly fading Serbian birthright as he spoke. The accent sent small chills down her spine.

"I should report you," she glared at him.

"Yah, but you won't," his words reeked with overconfidence.

"Oh I won't, will I?" she challenged.

"No, judging from your previous display, you are just dying to know what I'll do next; where my lips will explore to elicit even the tiniest of moans, oh yes Helen, you're curiosity has been piqued. You're remembering that night in Oxford; me, wracked with bloodlust, you, hungry for experience…I believe Johnny boy was out of town. You exposed your tender white thighs to my sharp fangs, for the sake of science, of course," he grinned, a dangerous grin to be sure.

"Is there a point to this?" she huffed, trying to ignore him and his delusions.

"Come on, Helen, for a minute there you considered letting a stranger sweep you off your feet in the shadows of the night. You didn't even stop until you found out it was me," he chuckled, reaching a hand towards her to tuck a stray curl back into formation.

"That was completely different, Nikola," she stiffened.

"Was it?" he grabbed her wrist and quickly spun her around so her back was firmly pressed against his hard chest. She was back facing the railing, their original position.

Nikola held her arms in his strong hands as he brought his lips to her ear.

"I may not be a stranger anymore but my lips are still the same," he whispered, placing a light kiss to her ear.

Helen shuddered slightly, before bringing her elbow back and jutting it into his solar plexus.

He gasped and moved away again, a strained chuckle escaping.

"I would've guessed you like it rough," he teased.

"You are unbelievable," she turned to him.

"Thank you, I share the same sentiments," he joked, standing to his full height again.

"I am not one of those silly girls that you can whisper Serbian to and have them dance their way straight into your bed, Nikola! Your charms won't work on me," she stood defiantly in front of the cheeky vampire.

"Yes, but you forget Helen, it's a long trip, and you are trapped here with me on this ship…you'll give in to my Serbian tricks eventually," he grinned with a cocky arrogance she both loved and hated.

"I don't think so Nikola, I never fall for the same trick twice," she moved past him to rejoin the party inside the Smoking Room.

Before she reached the door Nikola grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him.

"And I never use the same tricks twice either. I'm on a mission, Helen, by the end of this trip I'm going to get you, and you're going to enjoy every second of it," he captured her lips in a strong kiss that momentarily took her breath away. She managed to gather enough strength and push him away before both of them got lost in the kiss.

"Goodnight Nikola," she said untangling herself from his long arms.

"Goodnight, my love," he said with that dangerous accent.

Helen turned and walked away, ignoring that grin splayed across his face. She walked back into the Smoking Room, rejoining the party next to Molly.

"Where were you, Helen? I thought you left us," said Margaret, handing her a glass of brandy.

"Forgive me, I ran into an old friend," sighed Helen.

"We were just about to deal another hand, care to join?" asked one of the men at the table.

"I think I can play one hand," she chuckled, chugging the glass of brandy in one gulp and then ordering another one.

"Wow, must be some friend," noted Margaret with a curious smile.

"You have no idea," groaned Helen.