A/N: Alright, cat this is for you! I know it's a short chapter, but I was FORCED to post something tonight. So here ya go!
Chapter 2
The car pulled up to the hotel at exactly eight o'clock. The driver came around, opened the door, and Craig got out. He looked wonderful, I had to admit. He was wearing a beautiful dark grey suit that complimented his tall frame, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the top. His green eyes seemed to darken a bit as he looked me up and down. He held out his hand to me, "Miss Stackhouse, you look absolutely stunning."
As he handed me into the car, I found myself saying, "please, call me Sookie."
"Sookie," he said as if tasting my name, and I felt a small shiver run down my spine.
Then he turned, "Ms. Broadway, you look quite lovely this evening."
Amelia laughed, "thanks big guy, and you can call me Amelia."
Craig sat on the bench facing us as we drove off, and I could feel his eyes on me the entire time. I dared to lower my shields a bit and found myself blushing slightly at his thoughts. There was nothing obscene, just a running commentary about how beautiful I was and how he would like nothing more than to hold me in his arms and kiss me. I got the strong sense of his desire, but his thoughts didn't get X rated.
As if he sensed my intrusion, Craig made himself busy at the mini bar, and poured three glasses. "Champagne?"
Amelia and I accepted. Thanks to the bubbly and, Craig's attentions, by the time we got to de Castro's I was feeling beautiful and happy. In fact, it had been a long time since I had felt such simple happiness and contentment.
We arrived at de Castro's home in the Garden District. It was a lovely antebellum mansion on St. Charles Street. Craig slid out first, then helped us out of the car. Amelia got out and headed up the steps to the door. As I straightened my dress, Craig offered me his arm, "Sookie?"
I threaded my arm through his, and allowed him to lead me into the lion's den. As we walked through the doorway he leaned down and whispered, "when this is over, would you like to go get a cup of coffee with me?"
I felt positively giddy. I was going to have a date. A real, honest to goodness date with a handsome man. A living breathing man, who found me attractive.
"Craig, I'd love . . ." but the words died on my lips as I felt a surge of lust and anger slam into me.
I looked across the room at the source. Eric. All six foot four inches of blond Viking, looking like he just stepped off an Armani runway. Had I thought Craig handsome? At that moment I could not honestly remember.