The Vampire’s Mail Order Bride

by Kristen Painter

  Oh. She licked at it. “Gone?”

  His gaze seemed to be stuck to the spot her tongue had just been. He closed his mouth and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “We should go.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  He stood and looked toward the street. “Nothing.”

  Delaney got to her feet and followed him out. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one bad at lying.

  Annabelle was saying all the right things. Whether or not that was on purpose, Hugh couldn’t find it in him to care. Maybe she was a witch. Maybe she’d put some kind of spell on him. When her tongue had darted out to lick away the smudge of chocolate, he’d had the most overwhelming desire to kiss her.

  Worse than that, his stomach had done something…odd. Something that felt very much like chemistry.

  The minute he stepped outside the Hallowed Bean, he took a deep breath.

  “I don’t believe you.” She was too close. He could still smell her perfume and the chocolate she’d been drinking.

  “What are you talking about?” He couldn’t think with her this close. Well, he could, but those thoughts were only going to get him into more trouble.

  “You said nothing was wrong. If that’s true, why did you get up and leave like that?”

  Did she know how gorgeously pink her lips were? How the sight of her tongue had sent a shiver down his spine? “I needed”—you—“air.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you claustrophobic or something? Is that why you don’t want to go to the parade? Look, it’s not a big deal. I can—”

  He threaded his hands into her chestnut waves and kissed her. She gasped into his mouth, opening her lips so that his tongue could dart across hers. She tasted like she smelled, sweet and chocolaty. He was doomed.

  That didn’t stop him from kissing her some more.

  He drove his hands deeper into the silk of her hair, holding her close, savoring her warmth. His body responded the way it normally did when he kissed a beautiful, available woman, except there was more to it than the usual reaction. Something stirred within him, something deeper than just the tightening of his body and the burn of desire.

  He broke the kiss and stared at her. “Witch,” he whispered.

  Her breath was coming in deep gulps, the rise and fall of her chest distracting him. She blew out a small breath. “What was that?”

  “I had to see…” He shook his head. There were no clear thoughts in it. Just feelings and emotions stripped down to the raw essence of what they were. Need. Want. Desire.

  “You had to see what?”

  He couldn’t explain what he’d done. What was going on in his head. Not now. Not after that. “We should go.” He turned.

  And almost ran into Piper.

  She glowered at him and Annabelle. “Hello, Hugh.” Her brows shot up as she gave Annabelle the once over. “New girlfriend already? Guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Hello, Piper.”

  Annabelle inhaled, a small sound, but one that cut through him.

  Piper crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to introduce me? Or would you rather pretend I don’t exist?”

  With a sigh, Hugh put his hand on the small of Annabelle’s back. Next to Annabelle’s lush curves, Piper’s thinness made her seem brittle. “Annabelle Givens, this is Piper Hodge. My ex-girlfriend.”

  “Hello, Annabelle Givens.” Piper smirked. It was an ugly look. “There are a lot of us ex-girlfriends in town. Trust me.”

  He’d had enough. And part of him actually cared what sort of impression Annabelle might be forming. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re on our way home.”

  “Home?” Piper practically screeched the word, which had definitely been a poor choice. With a righteous glare, she leaned toward Annabelle. “I didn’t let him take me home until the fourth date.”

  Annabelle didn’t budge. “You have no idea how many dates we’ve been on.”

  Piper wasn’t so easily put off. “You know, he’s a serial dater. A real piece of work. Not like his brother, mind you. At least with Julian, you know what you’re getting. A fun night, nothing more. But this one leads you on.”

  She was really working up steam now. “Makes you think things are going somewhere, then buh-bye. All done. It’s not me, it’s you.”

  Annabelle tapped a finger on her lip. “I think you mean it’s not you, it’s me.”

  Piper scowled. “That’s what I said.”

  Annabelle cocked her brows and looked down her nose at Piper. “No. You didn’t.”

  Hugh stepped between Annabelle and Piper and got a big whiff of chardonnay. “You’re making a scene.”

  “I’m not making a scene,” Piper snapped back, her diamond stud earrings flashing. “I’m just telling my replacement what to expect.”

  She looked around Hugh at Annabelle. “If you think he’s going to marry you, he’s not. Ever. If you don’t believe me, ask half a dozen other girls in this town.”

  Annabelle put her hand on Hugh’s arm and eased him back a step. “You’ve got me confused with one of those women who needs a ring on her finger to feel complete. I don’t put those kinds of expectations on men. And I’d say I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you and Hugh, but based on your current amount of crazy, I’d say he dodged a bullet.”

  Piper’s jaw dropped.

  Annabelle gave her a nod. “You have a good night now.” Then she started walking.

  He didn’t need any coaxing to join her. He waited until they were out of Piper’s earshot before speaking. “That was bloody brilliant.”

  She pulled him into an alley and turned to him. “I’m glad you enjoyed that, but you don’t get to kiss me and just walk away. Not after we had the whole no strings attached talk.”

  He faced her, aware of the tourists milling by and peering down the alley at them. The small crowd that had followed them. “You’re right. But I’d rather not explain here.” He pointed to the street behind him. “Let’s keep walking.”

  Thankfully, that seemed to be all right with her because she fell into step with him as he left the alley. She didn’t link her arm through his as she had on Main Street, but he was okay with that. Touching her at this point might take him down a more dangerous path.

  As they left the crowds behind, they walked without speaking, without looking at each other. It gave him time to cool off and find the words to explain himself. “I apologize if I startled you or if my advance was unwelcome. I was feeling…very affected by you, and the urge to kiss you became overwhelming. I gave into it.”

  She was silent for a few seconds longer than he would have liked. Long enough for him to think his kiss hadn’t been welcome. “You’re a strange man. Not strange, exactly. Curious.”

  He’d been called worse. “Why so?”

  She cut her eyes at him. “We’d just made a pact about no strings, and then you freak out and kiss me. You don’t think that’s curious? Not to mention the whole encounter with your ex, who is, wow, very pretty. That was fun. And yes, I know you had no control over that.”

  “I did not freak out.” Three-hundred-and-seventy-seven-year-old vampires did not freak out. “I just felt like I was feeling something and wanted to be sure.”

  Amusement danced in her eyes. This was not supposed to be funny. “You felt like you were feeling something? Oh, men slay me.” She stopped walking. “And?”

  He came to a halt beside her. “And what?”

  “Did you feel what you were feeling?”

  He frowned. “Now you’re mocking me.”

  “Not mocking. Just trying to be sure.” She crossed her arms. “Or maybe you need to kiss me again?”

  The idea stirred his blood and raised heat in his belly. Perhaps because it was a brilliant idea. He clamped his jaw shut. Not brilliant. Awful. “No, I don’t need to kiss you again.”

  Her brows lifted and her mouth pursed. “Okay, good to know.” She started walking again, leaving him to catch up. “I guess we should get home then.”
/>
  Delaney yawned and blinked at the bright light coming through the bedroom windows. Sleep had taken forever to come last night. After feeding Cappy, she’d lain in the big four-poster bed, her body on fire and her head a jumble of thoughts involving Hugh, his ex, and the kiss. Well, mostly Hugh. And the kiss. The only thing that was clear this morning was that the trip into town with Hugh last night had taken a very unforeseen turn.

  She fluffed her pillow. Captain Underpants was firmly ensconced on the other one, having declared that side of the bed his. She rolled over to scratch his head. “A man kissed your mother last night and you don’t even care, do you?”

  Not even a yawn.

  “Philistine.”

  She rolled back over and listed the things she knew for certain about her current situation:

  Hugh was a horrible liar.

  But an excellent kisser.

  She would be willing to kiss him again.

  She was in big trouble.

  How was she going to last another twenty-eight days? She sat up abruptly. She’d been so distracted by Hugh’s mouth she’d gone to bed without checking the news at home or Googling the real Annabelle Givens. She grabbed her laptop off the floor beside the bed and fired it up, checking the same local news sites as the day before. Nothing about the shooting or about a missing man or anything.

  Her phone vibrated. She set the laptop aside and picked up her phone off the nightstand. Two waiting texts.

  First one was from Samantha, a friend and fellow server at Rastinelli’s. Where u at? Boss is going to call the cops if u don’t show. Says he’s worried about u.

  Anthony Rastinelli was going to call the cops on her? She doubted that.

  The second text was from Russell. She rolled her eyes before she even read it. Hey babe. Thinking about u. Missing u. Call me.

  That was also not going to happen.

  She was about to toss the phone on the bed when she checked the time. Almost one in the afternoon. Working the dinner shift had made her more of a night owl, but she hadn’t slept that late in a while. She started to get out of bed when someone knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Miss?”

  Stanhill. “Just a sec.” She hustled into her shorty robe and opened the door. “Hi.”

  He nodded. “Good afternoon. I hope you slept well.”

  “I did, thanks.” No need to tell him she hadn’t really, thanks to his employer playing tonsil hockey with her on the street last night.

  “Good. Lady Ellingham has requested you join her for tea.”

  “Lady Ellingham?”

  “Master Ellingham’s grandmother.” He smiled awkwardly. “They come from a titled line…”

  “Sure, that would be fine. What time is tea?” Might as well meet the woman responsible for this whole thing.

  “Four o’clock.”

  “That’s plenty of time to get ready, but I’m not sure I can wait that long to eat.”

  “I’d be happy to make you whatever you’d like.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean you should make me something.” The idea of that seemed odd. She was the one who waited on people, not the other way around. “I can find my way around a kitchen. I’ll just get ready then come down and make myself some eggs. If that’s okay with you.”

  He nodded. “Whatever makes you happy, miss.”

  If only everyone was as agreeable as Stanhill. She shut the door, then jumped into the shower. Half an hour later, she walked into the kitchen, her hair still damp but her makeup done. The space was magazine-worthy. Miles of granite countertops, stainless steel appliances and windows that filled the work space with natural light. Oh, the sweets she could cook up in here…

  Stanhill sat at the table, reading a local paper. He looked over the top of it. “There you are, and don’t you look lovely?”

  She glanced down at her lavender sundress and little white cardigan. “Thanks, I wasn’t sure what to wear for tea.” Fortunately, she’d packed a few cotton dresses. They didn’t take up much space, and this was the South, after all. “You’re sure you don’t mind me rummaging around in your kitchen?”

  “Not at all.” He put the paper down to bend his head toward a door near the far wall. “Just stay out of there.”

  “Basement, right?” She curled her fingers against her palms. There was no way she could pretend to accidentally open that door now.

  “Right-o. Shall I show you where things are?”

  “All I need is a pan, some eggs and the butter. I’m sure I can figure it out. Oh, and coffee. Lots of coffee.”

  Hugh wandered in. “I could use some of that myself.”

  It was unfair that a man could look that sexy while half asleep and unshaven. Her fingers itched to touch the stubble darkening his face. At least he was wearing a robe. Although, besides his pajama pants, there didn’t seem to be anything else on under it. Except for a thick silver chain with a quarter-sized disc hanging off it. The stone in the center was carved with some kind of design. The deep vee of naked chest beneath the chain was far more interesting, however. She forced herself to turn, open the fridge and search for the eggs and butter. “Morning.”

  He sat and grunted a reply, further solidifying his position as a night owl. “You look nice. Did I miss something or do you always dress up for breakfast?”

  “Tea with your grandmother.” The fridge was well stocked with high-end edibles. She grabbed the eggs (organic, brown, cage-free) and the butter (European, from pastured cows) and went to the stove.

  He grunted louder this time. “Bloody hell. I don’t remember anything about that. I better go shower.”

  “Sit down,” Stanhill said. “You weren’t invited.”

  “Good,” Hugh answered.

  Smiling, Stanhill handed her a small frying pan. “Can I fix you a cup of coffee?”

  “Yes,” Hugh said.

  Stanhill looked at him. “I was talking to Miss Givens.”

  Hugh frowned.

  She chewed her lip to keep from laughing. “I can get my own coffee, thank you.”

  “Nonsense.” Stanhill poured two cups but handed the first one to her. “Cream and sugar?”

  “That would be perfect, thanks.”

  He got her the cream (also organic) and sugar (unbleached), then gave Hugh his coffee before returning to the paper.

  Hugh took his coffee without a word. He stared over the rim of the cup at her. “Be careful of Didi. She’s wily.”

  Stanhill noisily turned the page.

  The butter was just about melted. She cast a glance at Hugh. “And you’re not?”

  “Not compared to her.” Hugh put his cup down. “You have no idea what she’s like.”

  Delaney cracked two eggs into the pan, tossed the shells into the disposal, then leaned her hip against the stove (stainless steel, six burner, restaurant quality). “So tell me.”

  Stanhill’s paper rustled some more.

  Hugh took a long pause before answering her. “She can manipulate you into allowing things you wouldn’t normally allow.”

  She crossed her arms. “Like letting a strange woman into your house.”

  “Exactly.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Or letting a strange man kiss you? Sorry, letting a curious man kiss you?”

  Stanhill’s paper went very still.

  Hugh leaned back a little, the light in his eyes smoldering with something dark and wicked. His jaw worked, but for several seconds, he said nothing. “Yes. Like that.”

  She smiled, somehow holding on to her calm exterior, even though she kind of wanted to jump him. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll let you know how things go when I get back.”

  “I’ll be waiting. In fact, why don’t we go into town for dinner tonight?” Hugh stood and shot Stanhill a look. “Then we can give Stanhill the night off.”

  Stanhill said nothing.

  She nodded. “Sure, that would be nice.”

  “I’ll make the arrangements. I’m sure I can find a spot you’ll like.” Hugh
picked up his coffee, gave her a look that finished melting her insides, and left.

  Stanhill drove her to Lady Ellingham’s estate. She did a quick Google search on Annabelle, but came up empty. Which sucked but also meant Delaney could say whatever she wanted. Sort of. She put her phone away and watched the scenery.

  A house loomed ahead. “Is that the estate?”

  “Yes,” Stanhill answered.

  The house made Hugh’s place look like a travel trailer. A really nice travel trailer, but still. Her estate sat across from the winery and looked down over the rolling vineyards. More acreage sprawled out around the property, making it both grand and secluded.

  She stared out the car window. “This place is gorgeous. Wow, these people have money.” She cringed and looked at Stanhill through the rearview mirror. “Sorry, I really didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  He laughed and gave her a wink. “Not to worry, love. They do have money. Not like you were telling tales, eh?”

  She sighed. “This is going to be more fancy china and multiple forks, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  She glanced at him. “Is she going to grill me? Should I expect the Spanish Inquisition?”

  He shrugged. “She hired you. Shouldn’t be too bad.”

  That failed to instill any confidence in Delaney.

  He parked and came around to open her door. When she got out, he handed her a little card. “I’ve written my mobile on there. Call when you’re ready to come home, all right?”

  She nodded. “Thanks.”

  He tipped his head toward the house. “Off you go.”

  With a nervous smile, she headed to the door and knocked. Stanhill went back to the car, but didn’t pull away. A prim woman with kind eyes answered and let her in. “You must be Annabelle.”

  Delaney nodded. “Yes.”

  “I’m Alice Bishop, Elenora’s assistant. She’s in the solarium. I’ll show you in.”

  Delaney followed Alice as Stanhill finally drove away. A broad, winding staircase led off the foyer. The rest of the house was like a European museum, all creamy marble, soaring ceilings and statuary. Their footsteps echoed through the vast space, but the solarium was much cozier. Bright and cheery and filled with plants, except for the back corner, which was shaded by potted palms. Elenora sat at a wrought iron and marble table beneath them.