Copyright © 2019 Elizabeth Myles
Cover by Victoria Cooper
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living, dead, or undead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Author’s Note
Other Books by Elizabeth Myles
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Chapter One
The Courtyard at Vintage Meadow Lake, a suburb of Houston, Texas
Nine days before Halloween
The vampire glared down at Lucy with red and glittering eyes, his fangs glinting from a self-satisfied smirk. He had a handsome face, pale as the moon shining above him, and his hair was long and lustrous, black as the midnight sky at his back. His white linen shirt gaped open, revealing what seemed like acres of gleaming muscle. He had the body of a warrior. Or a god. But it was the fangs to which Lucy’s gaze continually returned. Elongated and sharp, they made her think of jaguars and panthers, tigers and…baboons.
A crisp breeze swept by, sending a dead leaf skittering across Lucy’s shoe. Predator, she thought, hugging herself as she stared back at the vampire, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. She stood spellbound, her feet rooted to the cobblestones, and her hands clutching at her elbows—until a familiar voice chirped in her ear and shocked her out of it.
“Hey, Luce, sorry to make you wait. You about ready to go now?”
“Oh!” Lucy jumped and turned around to find her best friend, Jessica, standing right beside her, with her sunglasses on her head and her purse slung over her arm. “Oh, um, hi, Jess. Y-yeah, I’m all set.”
Jessica paused, glancing at the vampire and then back at Lucy. Her lips curled with amusement, her blue topaz eyes beginning to twinkle. They were a beautiful contrast, those limpid eyes, to her warm brown complexion and dark hair. Lucy glanced over her friend’s perfectly balanced hourglass figure and felt dowdy standing next to her, but then again, after fifteen years of friendship, that was nothing new. “See anything you like?” It was clear Jessica meant the vampire and not herself.
Lucy felt herself blush. She adjusted her glasses. “Wh-who is that?” she asked, gesturing at the vampire. Who wasn’t a real vampire, of course, but a painting of one, printed on an enormous slab of cardboard and propped up in a bookstore window. Jessica’s romance bookstore, Book of Love, which, according to the feathery purple lettering on the door, “specialized in HEA.” Jessica had explained it meant Happily Ever After.
People love a good love story, she’d added with a wistful sigh, because in a good love story, there’s always a happy ending.
Never mind that Lucy could easily think of half a dozen classic love stories that proved her best friend wrong. She knew better than to argue with Jessica when she was adamant about something.
“That,” Jessica said, and gave the vampire a long, admiring look, “is Prince Ion Petrescu.”
“Prince Yawn?” Lucy patted her hand against her open mouth.
“Ion,” Jessica corrected, laughing. “I-O-N. He’s Romanian…or something.”
“Oh.” Lucy tilted her chin, reading the title printed above the vampire’s head. A Prince at Midnight: The Sharpest Kiss Book VI.
“The Sharpest Kiss?” She wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t sound…very comfortable at all, now does it?”
Jessica trilled another laugh. “Well, it’s a really popular series. This one’s a sequel to A Prince Under the Moonlight, which was a huge bestseller in the U.S. last year. It’s actually not bad, either, aside from the cliffhanger ending. I cannot wait for the shipment of Midnight to show up, so I can finally figure out what happens to the Duchess Horatia Alexandrescu there. Did Ion turn her into a vampire to rescue her from falling victim to consumption, or what?” She pointed at the painting, and Lucy examined it again, this time focusing on the fiery-haired woman held fast in the circle of Ion’s massive arms. She was gorgeous, too, and appeared perfectly content in the vampire’s grip, with her delicate hand splayed against Ion’s alabaster chest, her elegant fingers digging into his bulging pectoral muscles. Lucy pictured herself in Horatia’s place, tried to imagine what it might be like to love a monster. Not so bad, maybe, judging by the adoring look on the duchess’s face.
But then Lucy’s gaze went to the sickle lying at Ion’s booted feet—his weapon for killing upstart rival vampires, she guessed—and she found herself shuddering again.
Jessica chided, “Hey, stop giving the prince the side-eye, would you? He keeps the lights on around here, and food on my table.”
“Sorry. Guess I’m just used to vampires being, you know, scary.” Like the ones Ace Van Helsing fights in the Fiends of Professor Nosferus Chronicles, Lucy added to herself. Professor Nosferus was her favorite currently-running comic book series for adults, and she couldn’t imagine wanting to get snuggly with any of the snarling, ferocious nosferatu featured in its pages.
Now, Ace Van Helsing, on the other hand…
“Oh, the prince is scary alright,” a wicked gleam entered Jessica’s irises as she waggled her eyebrows at Lucy, “in the sexiest way imaginable.”
Lucy couldn’t begin to understand what that was supposed to mean, nor was she so sure she wanted to. Without another word, she let Jessica thread her arm through hers and lead her across the courtyard to the Dos Lunas Café. They ordered sandwiches and coffee and then, because it was a sunny and mild fall afternoon, settled in at a wrought iron table on the sidewalk. As they ate and drank underneath the wide canvas umbrella spread out overhead, they discussed all the usual topics. The latest Netflix docuseries, the news, Jessica’s family, Lucy’s family, how the renovations on the bookstore were coming along…but eventually the conversation circled back to Prince Ion.
“Do you mind tacking some of these up in the breakrooms at Acray-Sys? I’m trying to get rid of the few I’ve got left before the party.” Jessica plucked a stack of glossy postcards from her purse and handed them to Lucy.
They were promos for A Prince at Midnight. Lucy held up one of the cards, scanned the now-familiar book cover printed on the front, and flipped it over. The back advertised the release party Book of Love was hosting for the new title next Wednesday night. Jessica had told Lucy that new books usually hit the market on Tuesdays, but the publisher was timing this one to coincide with Halloween and encouraging retailers to stay open late and sell it at the stroke of midnight. Lucy glanced back toward the bookstore, where a group of women had gathered around the display window and were snapping selfies in front of Ion and Horatia. She had to admit, the whole thing seemed like a pretty clever marketing ploy.
As if reading her mind, Jessica said, “The tagline for the release date just could not be any better, right? I mean, ‘Get your copy of A Prince at Midnight—at midnight?’ It’s too perf
ect.”
Lucy smiled and tucked the cards into her tote bag. “I’ll put these up for you, no problem.”
“You’re awesome,” Jessica beamed. “The awesome-est, in fact.” Then, cocking her head, she peered at Lucy like a curious bird. “You’re still coming, right? To the party?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“And what about Aaron?”
“A-Aaron?” Lucy fidgeted with a button on her sweater. Suddenly she was nervous, just the mention of her boss’s name making her blood pump faster and her skin feel warmer.
Jessica sipped from her coffee, watching Lucy over the rim. “Uh, yeah, you know, the guy you can’t stop thinking about? Unless there’s someone else you’ve suddenly developed a massive crush on?”
“Could you keep it down, Jess? We’re not that far from the office. What if someone I work with were to walk by and hear you saying that?”
“Would it really be the end of the world?”
“It might be the end of my job. I do work for him, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re such a cliché, a secretary falling for her boss. Believe me, we’ve got whole aisles of stories like that back at the bookstore.” Jessica’s sarcasm was tempered by her good-natured smile.
Lucy had to chuckle, letting out a breath that stirred her bangs. “Hey, we’re called Executive Assistants, okay? Not secretaries. And it’s not like I wanted to be living out a trope in real life, but what choice did I have?”
Jessica took another quick sip of her latté. “Working for someone that hot? Not much,” she conceded. “Anyway, my point was: are you inviting him to the party, or what? We’re going to have free food and champagne, fun games and cool door prizes. And I promise it isn’t only for romance nerds—every brand of geek is welcome to show up. I know if Aaron comes with you, he’ll have a great time.”
Lucy picked at the lid on her coffee, contemplating. “You have his email address. Can’t you just send him an invitation?”
“Well, I could, but I think it would be better if you asked him.”
“It’d be weird. He’d think I liked him.”
“You do like him.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want him to know that!”
“As if he doesn’t already?” At Lucy’s alarmed look, Jessica added, “Come on. I’ve seen you with him, remember? Do you honestly think he doesn’t notice the whole blushing and babbling thing? After eight months? Trust me, the jig is up.”
Lucy felt horrified embarrassment rise at this accusation, and she wanted to defend herself, but she knew it was true. She did blush and babble every time she was around Aaron. Ugh. He probably thought she was the biggest fool on the planet.
“And yet he keeps coming around to talk to you,” Jessica went on. “So he must not consider it a bad thing. If he were grossed out, he’d totally avoid you, right?”
“No,” Lucy groaned. “He can’t avoid me. I’m his assistant. He has to talk to me!”
Jessica tucked a lettuce leaf more securely into what was left of her sandwich, and then rolled the sandwich up in a paper napkin. “He could just call or message you from his desk anytime he needs something. He doesn’t have to walk out and talk to you every five minutes. He definitely doesn’t have to come and sit at your desk just to shoot the breeze the way you told me he does every single afternoon before he goes home.”
“He’s a big Professor Nosferus fan. That’s mostly what he likes to talk to me about.”
“He talks to you about everything. How else would I know so many random things about him? Like his favorite coffee, his favorite pizza, what gym he goes to, and the fact he runs the marathon every other year. I even know what size pants, shirts, and shoes the man wears, thanks to you buying almost all of his clothes for him. Let’s face it, you’re practically his wife already.”
“He’s a busy guy,” Lucy laughed. “He doesn’t always have time to shop for himself, so I put in the orders for him…Look, I’m sure most assistants know all that kind of stuff about their bosses. Don’t they?”
Jessica’s glance was shrewd. “But he doesn’t just talk to you about himself, does he? Or order you around? He wants to know about your life, too. You told me he asked all about your aunt while she was sick.”
Lucy’s heart hitched at the mention of her aunt. Her favorite extended relative, Aunt Genevieve was only fifty-eight years old when she’d discovered she was riddled with cancer. Four months ago, she’d started receiving palliative care at her home just outside Dallas, and Lucy had made several trips up there to visit her and her family. To say goodbye. Aaron had been incredibly understanding about Lucy’s need for extra time off, and he had always asked about Genevieve, seeming to genuinely care about the answers. When Genevieve had finally passed, he’d sent flowers to the funeral. “That was nice of him,” Lucy admitted.
“He likes you,” Jessica said. “I can tell.”
“You mean it?” Lucy sat up straighter, giving her a searching look. “You’re not just messing with me?”
“Would I do that, Lucy Goose? And have I ever led you astray?”
“No,” Lucy said, because she wouldn’t, and she hadn’t.
Jessica scooped up her bundled sandwich. “I know you’re not big on making the first move or anything, but maybe it’d be worth risking it this time? I wouldn’t want you to overlook something that’s right under your nose. Or sitting by your desk at the end of every day, as the case may be.” She winked as she stood up and drew her purse from the back of the chair.
“You’re leaving?” Lucy asked.
“Yeah, sorry, but I’ve gotta run. I told Davis I’d meet up with a vendor so she wouldn’t have to. That way she doesn’t have to cut her lunch short. Total pain.” She rolled her eyes and put the back of her hand to her forehead, feigning despair.
“Please. Don’t give me that. I know it’s your dream job over there. And dealing with Mrs. Davis is only temporary. As soon as her last three months are up, she’ll be retired and out of your hair for good. You’ll be your own boss. Forever.” Lucy’s lower lip momentarily jutted out. “Do I sound jealous? ’Cause I am. I’m a bowl of green Jell-O over here.”
Jessica grinned and wrinkled her nose. “It is pretty enviable, isn’t it? Don’t worry, someday you’ll be calling the shots somewhere, too. Until then, I think you should enjoy being, uh, subordinate to one of the studliest guys in the A-cray-cray-Sys building. It could be so much worse.” She swiped her empty cup from the table. “And I still think you should invite him to my party. Just saying. Ta!” She wiggled her fingers at Lucy.
“Bye.” Lucy watched her friend dunk her cup into a garbage bin and hurry back up the sidewalk, disappearing into the bookstore. Then Lucy pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the time. There were still twenty minutes left in her lunch hour. Plenty of time to be productive.
Drawing her bag onto the table, Lucy slid out her planner and plastic pencil case. She flipped the planner open to the following month and busied herself tracing perfect boxes on the fresh calendar pages with a straight-edge, and then highlighting each square the appropriate color. Purple for spinning classes, neon yellow for her dentist appointment, green for trips to the market, and so on. When she was done, she sat back and admired the orderly grid she’d created. There. Now her near future was all planned out to a tee, just the way she liked it. A sense of deep relief swept over her, and she sighed. Then she flipped back a few pages to the current month and saw the bright orange squiggles Jessica had doodled around Wednesday, October thirtieth. MY PARTY, she’d scrawled in giant bubble letters.
Lucy chuckled. Her best friend’s words rang in her head. He likes you. I can tell. You should invite him.
Would Aaron actually come to the party if Lucy asked him, she wondered? Maybe. But only because he seemed determined to eventually go out with every woman in the city.
In the eight months she’d worked for him, Lucy had watched her boss go out on what felt like roughly a million dates with roughly a
million different women, making it seem as though he were on a mission to accept every invitation that ever crossed his desk. But not a single one of Aaron’s dates had ever been a dishwater blonde with brown eyes who wore glasses and sweater-sets over their jeans the way Lucy did. The women he went out with always reminded her of fashion models straight out of the pages of Vogue—raven-haired, jewel-eyed beauties in tailored, expensive outfits and alarmingly high heels. Not that Lucy begrudged Aaron those dates. He was gorgeous. Why shouldn’t he want to surround himself with equally attractive people?
Feeling suddenly deflated, Lucy clapped shut her planner, gathered up her supplies, and chucked everything into her tote bag. She cleaned up her trash and headed up the sidewalk, back toward Acray-Sys. It took only a few minutes for her to reach the campus of tall, featureless white buildings, and soon Lucy was swiping her ID badge against the door, zooming up seven floors in the elevator, and heading back to her desk. As she rounded the corner to her office, however, she ran straight into a brick wall.
“Oh!” She gasped as the tote bag flew off her arm and hit the floor, spewing all of its contents. Her pencil case erupted, sending pens and highlighters bouncing out of it, rolling in every direction across the drab institutional carpeting.
“Oh, geez, Lucy, I’m so sorry,” the walking wall said. “Didn’t see you there.” Strong hands caught her by the upper arms and steadied her.
Lucy looked up to see a broad torso filling out a starched white dress shirt and, above that, a handsome face staring down at her with concern. The face had soulful hazel eyes and a strong, straight nose, a firm jawline, and sensuous lips. The light brown hair above the face was cut short and mussed as though its owner had just been running his fingers through it...leaving it tousled just enough to make him look appealingly disreputable.
“Aaron,” she breathed, and felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
Gosh, Jessica was right. With reactions like this, there was no way he couldn’t know how crazy Lucy was about him. How humiliating.
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