Must Love Vampires

by Heidi Betts

  He grunted. “Not that. I meant the sex. You were right—it was terrible. We’ve obviously lost any spark we had, and should probably go our separate ways.”

  Rearing up, she twisted around to stare at him with wide eyes and an even wider open mouth.

  “Are you kidding me?” she demanded, unable to believe he could feel that way when the sex she’d just had had nearly blown the top of her head off. “That was incredible. Mind-blowing. My eyes are still rolling in their sockets like the cherries on a slot machine. Were you even in the same room as I was?”

  With every other word, her voice rose half an octave, and she honestly thought she might reach out and smack him in a minute. Then his lashes fluttered and his eyes popped open. They were glittering with amusement, and the corner of his mouth twitched, telling her he’d been teasing all along.

  “Oh . . . you!” She gave in to her annoyance and slapped him on the stomach, making him yelp.

  “See if I ever let you bite me again,” she grumbled, climbing less-than-gracefully to her feet.

  Padding to the sofa, she started gathering up her clothes and slipping back into them piece by piece. Behind her, she heard Aidan getting up and moving to join her.

  “Come on,” he whispered, brushing aside her hair to kiss the nape of her neck. “Admit it—the biting was your favorite part.”

  The mere memory of his mouth on her throat, his teeth piercing her flesh, his ecstasy at the taste of her, sent a shiver through her and raised goose bumps over her half-naked body. Doing her best to hide her reaction, she shrugged a shoulder. “It was okay.”

  “It was more than okay,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and tugging her against him.

  He was still completely naked, and she only had on her bra and underwear. She could feel a fresh erection blooming against her butt and thought that was a pretty quick turnaround time, even for an otherworldly, supernatural being.

  “It was . . . how did you put it? . . . incredible, mind-blowing, eye-rolling. So admit it,” he pressed, snuggling her close, “we belong together. We suit each other in every possible way, give or take a few sunrises.”

  Still moderately annoyed, Chloe pressed her lips together and shrugged again. She felt him brush a kiss across the offending shoulder.

  “So we should stay married, right? Do the whole vampire version of a white picket fence and happily ever after.”

  She waited a beat, mulling that over. “What’s the vampire version of a white picket fence?” she asked grudgingly.

  “I don’t know, but you can bet it doesn’t involve pointy wooden stakes of any kind.” He shuddered at the very thought and hugged her tighter.

  She chuckled. As offensive as the image might be to him, for some reason, she found it quite funny. She could just see him avoiding picket fences all over whatever cozy, familyfriendly neighborhood they decided to settle in, tiptoeing along the far edge of the sidewalks and turning into a bat just to fly into his own house.

  No, he was right—his dank, windowless, underground apartment was probably the better choice for their particular happily-ever-after. And as cynical as she’d always been about that sort of thing, she actually believed they might have a shot at it.

  They’d proved, after all, that they were still sexually compatible. “Combustible” might even be a better word.

  “Fine, yes, I’ll stay married to you.” Turning in his arms, she ignored the head of his penis, prodding her like a five-star general, and forced him to meet her gaze. “But there are things we’re going to have to discuss and work out, especially where Jake is concerned.”

  His lips curved and he grinned like an idiot. “Absolutely. Whatever you want, Mrs. Raines.”

  She raised a brow. “That might be the topic of our first big fight. What if I want to keep my name?”

  “Which one?” he asked flatly.

  Hm. He had a point there, she supposed. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Well, then, whatever you want, Mrs. Chloe Catherine Monroe Lamoreaux Raines.”

  Queen

  A long time later, after another two or three more hot and heavy, better-safe-than-sorry, let’s-do-it-again-just-to-besure-we-really-are-still-sexually-compatible rolls across the floor, the bed, the dresser, and back on the bed, Chloe stretched out along the prone length of Aidan’s very smooth, very attractive, very all hers naked body.

  She sighed, rubbing the arch of her foot along the inside of his calf. He gave a sleepy grunt, and his arm tightened at her waist.

  With a grin, she tipped her head back on his shoulder to take in the strong line of his jaw, his closed eyes, his mouth slack in near-sleep. “Are you awake?” she whispered.

  He made another rough, drowsy sound from deep in his throat, but didn’t stir. She knew he was awake, though. For one thing, they’d gone at it again like rabid monkeys only about twenty minutes before. And for another, he’d slept soundly through all twelve daylight hours in a way she was learning only vampires could.

  So now it was time to wake up and get a move on. If being involved with Aidan meant that most of her life was going to have to be lived during nighttime hours, there were things she’d need to get used to, and things they needed to take care of.

  Pushing herself up on one elbow, she hovered over him, tracing her fingers through the fine layer of crisp hair dotting his chest. “I’ve been thinking,” she murmured.

  He remained perfectly still, her statement having no impact whatsoever.

  “I said I’ve been thinking,” she muttered again, louder this time, and punctuated with a sharp pinch to his ribcage.

  “Ouch!” His eyes popped open and he stared up at her, wide awake and attentive now as he rubbed the spot she’d just abused. “Thinking, huh? When did you have time for that?”

  “Ha-ha.” She made a face, barely resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. “No, seriously. I’m a little worried about Chuck.”

  He blinked up at her, brows knitting over his chocolatebrown eyes. And just like real chocolate, they made her hungry. She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

  “Your sister?” he asked, sitting up a couple of inches to take a better-placed peck of his own, right in the center of her lips.

  Chloe nodded. “When we switched places, she was going after your brother. Something about a story she’s working on for the Tattler. But she doesn’t know about the vampire thing, and if she finds out that’s what Sebastian is . . .”

  She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying not to talk herself into a panic.

  “That’s a good reason to be worried about her,” Aidan agreed, pushing himself all the way up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Sebastian would never hurt her. I hope you know that.”

  She bit the inside of her lip without a response. She actually didn’t know that, because she didn’t know Sebastian Raines at all, other than as owner of the Inferno and catching the occasional glimpse of him wandering around the casino floor.

  As much as she loved Aidan, as impulsive and open and laid-back as he was, Sebastian seemed to be the exact opposite. She’d never seen the man smile, even in rare photographs printed in the local newspaper and gossip mags. Never seen him wearing anything other than staid designer business suits—and those only in black, charcoal, or navy blue. And she’d never heard so much as a whisper about him doing anything spontaneous, fun, or the least bit undisciplined.

  He might be her brother-in-law now—yeeps! what a sobering thought—but that didn’t mean she particularly liked him.

  “He wouldn’t,” Aidan reassured her, practically reading her mind. “He might have wiped her memory if she got too close or saw something she shouldn’t, but that’s it.”

  That sounded fine, but if he wasn’t concerned about his brother being alone with her sister, why was he moving around the room like an ant at a picnic, gathering dropped clothes and dressing in close to record time?

  “Is your sist
er the reactionary type?” he wanted to know. “Or is she pretty calm, cool, and collected in a crisis?”

  Slipping out of the bed, she started picking up her earlier discarded clothes, too. “Normally, she’s fairly level-headed. She’s always been the smart and rational one. But since neither of us have ever come face-to-face with a vampire before tonight—that we’re aware of, anyway—I’d have to say she might react . . . badly.”

  Fully dressed now, Aidan stood with his hands on his hips, watching her. “Let me call him, see if he’s even run into your sister. Maybe we’re worrying for nothing.”

  He grabbed his cell phone from the dresser and hit a button, speed dialing his brother’s number on his way out of the room. At the door, he paused and turned back to her. “But you might want to get dressed quick, just in case.”

  “Just in case” turned out to be a lack of answer on Sebastian’s end of the line. When Aidan returned to the bedroom, face blank, Chloe was back in her sister’s jeans and top. If she didn’t get a shower and a fresh change of clothes soon, she swore they’d start walking around on their own.

  “I couldn’t reach him,” he told her. “I think we should go over there.” Just in case.

  He didn’t have to say the last; it was floating in the air around them like a noxious odor. Two minutes later, they’d piled into his Ferrari and were tooling down The Strip toward the Inferno. Using a private rear entrance to the hotel, they hurried down the thickly carpeted halls and into the elevator that would take them up to Sebastian’s penthouse.

  From the moment they got out of the car, Aidan had her hand in his. She squeezed it tightly over and over, unaccountably grateful to have him with her, to have him supporting her, looking out for her, rushing off with her to check on her sister simply because she was concerned about her twin’s welfare.

  If this was an inkling of what her future held, she might not mind being married, after all. Even to a vampire.

  The elevator doors slid open with a soft whoosh and Aidan tugged her out, leading her straight to Sebastian’s front door. Despite her eagerness to track down Chuck and make sure she was okay, Chloe couldn’t help taking a minute to glance around, guppy-mouthed, at her surroundings.

  Every inch of the Inferno was high class and decadent. Sebastian Raines hadn’t spared a single expense in building the hotel and casino, or in capitalizing on the different aspects of Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy when it came to decorating. He’d nailed the first part of the epic poem, and the casino’s main namesake, Inferno, as well as Purgatorio and Paradiso—or Purgatory and Paradise, as those areas were called within the hotel. Not to mention some of the Nine Circles of Hell—Limbo, Lust, Avarice, and Wrath.

  All of the Hell-ish locations followed the obvious look of fire, flames, sulfur, and brimstone. Then the colors and themes lightened a little as they moved through the other “levels,” all the way to the bright, happy, and for some reason, island-motifed Paradise.

  But though she’d seen nearly every room on every floor of the hotel and casino, she had never been in the owner’s private elevator or in his private penthouse. Given how much the Raines brothers were worth, she shouldn’t be surprised by the luxury here—in the hallway alone—and yet she was. The thick, plush carpeting cushioning her feet like two inches of marshmallow fluff . . . the artwork covering the walls in gilt frames, which were no doubt priceless originals.... She didn’t know the first thing about art, but she did know names like Monet, Rembrandt, and Renoir, and she would bet creations by all three of them, plus some, were staring down at her right now.

  Aidan rapped sharply on the door, and all Chloe could think was, If this was the outside of her brother-in-law’s living quarters, what the heck was the inside going to look like?

  Maybe she wasn’t going to find out. After several long seconds, Aidan knocked again. And then again. Either his brother wasn’t in, or he was ignoring them.

  Aidan muttered a curse, and Chloe started to wonder where her sister might be. If Sebastian wasn’t home, maybe Chuck’s plan to follow and get close to him hadn’t worked out. Or maybe Sebastian was at dinner, on the casino floor, or even out and about downtown, with Chloe trailing behind him.

  “Cell phone,” she blurted out. When Aidan glanced at her, she shook her head and said, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I should have called her cell phone.”

  When they’d parted ways, Chuck certainly hadn’t had one on her—there wasn’t room to hide a Tic-Tac in those costumes, let alone a cell phone—but Chloe didn’t know where her sister went after the show. She might be back in civilian clothes by now and have her phone with her once again.

  “We’ll check inside first, and if we don’t find anything, you can use Sebastian’s phone to see if you can reach your sister.”

  With that, he began tapping out numbers on the security panel on the wall beside the door, but before he could finish, the door swung open and Sebastian Raines stood scowling out at them.

  Chloe’s eyes went wide. She found the elder Raines brother intimidating enough when he looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ—expensive suit pressed, collar buttoned, hair slicked back. But seeing him in the altogether—well, except for a pair of black silk boxer shorts—nearly made her tongue fall out of her mouth and hit the toe of her shoe.

  Not because she was sexually attracted to him. Sure, he was a good-looking guy. If by “good-looking” you meant tall, dark, handsome, sexy, hot, debonair, cover-model potential, hubba-hubba, homina-homina-homina.

  But since Chloe had her own hot, sexy, hubba-hubba Raines brother to drool over, she honestly wasn’t goggling at him in that way. Instead, her main physical reaction was plain old shocked stupid. In her wildest imaginings, she never would have pictured her boss, the gazillionaire casino mogul and (now that she knew) vampire, walking around his milliondollar penthouse apartment half-dressed and looking as though he’d just come through a sandstorm.

  His black hair was a disaster, flattened in one spot, but sticking up in all directions everywhere else. She’d seen people stick their fingers in light sockets and walk away with a better coiffure.

  His narrowed eyes were storm gray and gritty with sleep. Had they woken him? It was early—early evening, at any rate—but not particularly early for a vampire, according to Aidan. Maybe Sebastian was a late riser. (Har-dee-har-har.)

  “What do you want?” Sebastian bit out in a voice as scratchy as his angry expression.

  “Hey,” Aidan said.

  He didn’t act the least put off by his brother’s snarly demeanor or less than pristine appearance. Or maybe he just seemed uber-calm because Chloe was shaking so badly in her sister’s borrowed tennies.

  “Are you, um . . . alone in there?” Aidan asked, going up on the balls of his feet to peer over his brother’s broad bare shoulder into the rest of the penthouse.

  “What the hell do you care?” Sebastian growled in return.

  Still not intimidated, Aidan turned to her and said, “This is Chloe. She’s a dancer down at Lust—and my new bride.”

  Sebastian’s dark brows came together in the mother of all scowls. His mouth turned down for a moment, and then he muttered a heartfelt, “Shit.”

  Running his fingers through his already mussed “my-bestimpression-of-a-porcupine” hair, he shook his head. “I forgot. I was going to run out and find you, try to stop you from doing something stupid, but I got . . . let’s just say distracted.”

  He muttered another curse beneath his breath, then took a step back. “You might as well come in. I guess the damage is done.”

  Wow. Talk about a warm and fuzzy, “Welcome to the family!”

  Aidan followed his brother without hesitation, but Chloe hesitated big-time. She stayed in the hallway, rooted to the spot by fear and trepidation. Not only was she still concerned about her sister—if Sebastian Raines was here, where was Chuck?—but also for herself, having to deal up close and personal with her very reluctant brother-in-law,
who also happened to be her big bad boss.

  Noticing her absence, Aidan turned back, a curious expression on his face. “It’s okay,” he told her, reaching out to take her hand and tug her bodily past the threshold. “He won’t bite, I promise. That’s my job,” he added in a whisper just above her ear before pressing a reassuring kiss to her cool cheek.

  Wandering into the living area of the posh apartment, Sebastian dropped down on the edge of a black, overstuffed leather sofa and buried his face in his hands, scrubbing his eyes roughly before driving his fingers through his hair once more. The nervous gesture wasn’t making his hair look any worse, but it wasn’t making it look better, either.

  “So you’re the sister,” he murmured, lifting his head to study her more closely. “Chloe the dancer. The real dancer.”

  The way he said “the real dancer” made Chloe’s stomach drop like a stone. Did that mean he’d come into contact with Chuck, after all, and knew she wasn’t really a showgirl in the Lust revue?

  Oh, no. Was Chuck even now lying lifeless somewhere with a couple of fang marks in her neck, sucked dry by an enraged bloodsucker who would do anything to keep his secret under wraps?

  Breathe, Chloe, breathe, she told herself, even though her heart was beating hard enough to crack a rib.

  Aidan had assured her his brother wasn’t the killing type. If Chuck had run into Sebastian and piqued his ire, she was probably just wandering around downtown Vegas with amnesia, thanks to his vampire brainwashing woo-woo. Which wasn’t necessarily better than being dead in an alley somewhere, depending on what kind of Sin City vultures and vermin she ran into, but at least it wasn’t death.

  Screwing up her courage—which took a couple of deep breaths, a few more fistings and unfistings of her hands, and three clearings of her throat before she could push words past her petrified vocal cords—she asked, “Where’s my sister?”

  Aidan’s hand tightened on hers, though she didn’t know if it was to offer his support or warn her away from confronting his brother quite so directly.