by Mary Hughes
“Relax. Breathe normally.” He took me by the shoulders. “I’ll start with basics. Holiday Buzz has five departments.” He released me slowly. “Just a handful. Easy peasy.”
“Easy peasy?” I was panting, cold little puffs of air, my heart was thudding painfully, and worse, anatomical terms were starting to bubble up in my head. “My brain’s been coated in industrial nonstick. Unless the departments have a mnemonic device, like the one for the cranial nerves—Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, Topless Tiffany and Fat Valerie Got Vaginitis And Hepatitis—”
“Memory aid?” Grinning, he grabbed my hand. “Five departments. First is account services.”
He kissed my thumb, then flicked his tongue across the pad.
I stopped panting. Hell, I stopped breathing.
“Creative.” He kissed the index finger, butterfly light. Then sucked delicately at the tip.
My heart’s painful thudding stuttered. I swallowed, hard; hot liquid desire ran down my throat.
“Finance.” He kissed the middle finger, then licked and nipped the tip with deliciously sharp teeth, leaving me wide-eyed and squirming in my chair, and I still had two more fingers to go.
“Media buying.” He kissed my ring finger. Then, with a wicked glance, he ran his tongue from the base to the tip.
I jumped in my chair.
“And last but not least, production.” He kissed my pinkie. Then he ran his tongue along my whole throbbing hand, from pinkie to thumb and back again.
I squeezed my eyes shut—clenching everywhere, jaw, thighs, sweet inner muscles. “I’m not sure I’ll remember all that.” I opened my eyes and held up my other hand. “Repeat it?”
His grin widened.
And he did, in such a scrumptious way that sweat broke out on my skin and I nearly slid out of my chair. Finishing, he gave me a hot smile that managed to be smug, amused, delighted and pure wicked sex. “Again?”
“Nope, got it,” I said before my whole body went up in flames, whoosh. “What’s left for you to do?”
”Set the tone. The direction for the company. I make sure the agency’s thrust is positive. We only take on clients that have a definite favorable impact on humans and humankind.”
Humans and humankind. Oddly, I wasn’t finding phrases like that strange anymore.
He kissed and licked the inside of my wrist. I squealed. “Five departments, positive impact.” Any terror I’d held over sales, Nosferatu or vampires in general, fled. “Stop that or I won’t remember my name, much less what you’re trying to teach me. So I convince five departments to take our account?”
“The departments are general umbrellas.” He dropped a kiss on my palm, closed my fingers with his and held my hand to his chest. Like holding it to his heart.
Wished-for image?
Or reality?
Yikes. Fluttering heart, sweaty skin, everything tinted rose… I was falling in love, treacherous because Ric Holiday was dangerous, powerful, smart and not even human. Worse, I wasn’t sure if I was falling in love with him, or who I wanted him to be.
I started to tug my hand away.
“Time to move on?” He gave my hand a regretful pat before releasing it. “All right. It’s not the creatives I’m worried about. Your colorful folksy town of Meiers Corners is right up their alley. But the number crunchers’ job is to keep things on time and under budget. And don’t get me wrong, they do a wonderful job and I’m grateful. Without them Holiday Buzz would be Holiday’s Bottomless Pit. But Camille will tailor her message to them, and she’ll nail it. Casinos? Instant money.”
“Lovely.” My heart was starting to race again. “What do I do to compete?”
“That’s what we’re here to figure out.”
For an hour Ric asked me detailed questions about Meiers Corners, some of which I knew, some of which I had to phone Twyla for. After she quit panting—did she and Nikos ever stop?—and no I wasn’t jealous—all right, maybe a little—we ended up putting her on speaker and Ric quizzed her until she explained everything to his satisfaction. He was very picky and got quite detailed. I think she made some of it up.
Then he and I conferred for almost another two hours, heads together, working on the proper tack to take. He didn’t kiss me again, but he sat close, his body heat and scent caressing me. In some ways the simple closeness was nicer.
Finally he sat back and considered me, his eyes a serious blue. “You’re exhausted,” he said flatly. “Your skin is gray, your eyes are bloodshot, and you’re sagging.”
“Thanks. You don’t look so good yourself.” Which was a real whopper. He looked delicious, like a chocolate sundae with whipped cream and cherries. Hmm, lunch time.
A fleeting smile twisted his lips. “This isn’t my best time of day. I’m more of a…night person.” He searched my eyes. “But perhaps you guessed that?”
I sucked in a breath. It seemed impossible. It sounded as though he was asking if I knew he was a vampire. “I might have guessed. I mean, my cousin’s significant other might be a ‘night person’.”
“Yes.” He was gazing over my shoulder again. “It can make for a difficult relationship.” Something in his tone or eyes made me think he meant him and me. Like maybe he was contemplating a relationship with me.
I held my breath, waiting to see if he followed up on it, maybe with a kiss.
“Well.” His gaze returned to mine. “I think we’re done for today. You should head out while it’s still daylight. Camille isn’t the best person to have working against us. I don’t think you’re in any actual danger, but I’d feel better if you’re safe with your cousin before the sun goes down.”
“Okay.” I rose, mind churning. He’d as good as said that not only did vampires exist, but both he and Camille were of the sharp-toothed persuasion. A truth, completely unasked for and totally unexpected. A secret not even my best friend had shared with me.
Ric trusted me more than Twyla. Zap me with a TENS. I shook my head, trying to clear it.
“Are you okay?” He was right on top of me. I sucked in air, got a noseful of hot spicy male and choked. He patted my back gently and I thought maybe here was the kiss coming, but after I was breathing more or less normally he stepped back and his hand dropped. He did look regretful. “You’d better go.”
“Yeah, while it’s still daylight, got it. Is the training all done, then?”
“Not really. We’ve made a good start but I’d like to do more. Tomorrow you could come to my penthouse…” His color rose and his canines got a bit longish. His fingers clenched. “No, better come here. First thing.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe not first thing.” His expression was unusually troubled, doubting. “Maybe give yourself a few hours.”
He was second-guessing himself for the sake of my safety. He truly cared. It made me fizz again. “I should start out after sunrise?”
He smiled, his azure eyes lighting like a dawn sky. “Yes. I’m glad we understand each other.”
When I left, I was smiling too.
I got back to the cabin plenty before sunset. But while I had avoided Camille, I walked straight into the Spanish Inquisition, and not the one with comfy chairs.
Not my fault. No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.
Well, except for the part where they gave thirty days notice.
But Twyla met me at the door of the cabin and dragged me in one handed. From the look on her face my secrets were grass and she was coming after them with a weed whacker.
Chapter Nine
“Holiday’s working with you? I thought you were avoiding him.” Twyla peppered me with questions as I stumbled into the cabin behind her. “What’s going on? Did the bra help?”
The bra. Thoroughly wet by Ric’s suckling outside the elevator. I glanced down. Thank goodness the blouse had dried without staining, or Twyla would have known how much the bra had helped.
“It’s a long story.” I caught sight of myself in the entryway mirror. Ric was right, my face was a bit gray. “
How about another glass of that merlot?”
“And then you’re telling me everything—and I do mean everything?”
“Yes, all right.”
“Nikos!”
Soundlessly the second bedroom door opened. No noisy moans and creaking bedsprings came from behind the first. “Where are Elena and Bo?”
“Elena’s swimming. Something about the water’s buoyancy helping her relax. Bo’s…resting.” Her odd pause made more sense now that I knew Bo was probably a sun-shy vampire.
And there it was. The perfect opportunity to confirm what Ric had told me. Or not told me exactly, but implied really hard. “So about fangy vampi—”
“Your merlot.”
I spun. Nikos was almost on top of me. I fell back a step, heart leaping into jackhammer mode. Nikos was as silent as Ric, and damn, the Greek was big, a dark mountain handing me a dinky little wine glass. Smiling, I took the glass, though both smile and hand were a mite shaky.
Twyla said, “Don’t let him bother you. Where he comes from, that scary dominance and discipline is bred in. He doesn’t really mean it.”
“Maybe not with you.” I eyed the Spartan. “But that’s what I’m talking about. Vam—”
“Why was Holiday,” she cut me off hurriedly, “asking me all those questions on the phone? Is he going to take us on? Drink your wine.” She tipped my hand and I got a snout full of merlot. She was busy glaring at Nikos then glancing pointedly from me to the couch. She released me to go sit, then had the nerve to pat the cushion next to her genteelly.
I stayed put. “But what about vampir—”
Nikos snared me by the elbow, jarring me so I not only cut off the word, I nearly chomped off my tongue. He hustled me to the couch where he practically planted me beside my cousin. Then he topped off my glass.
What could I do? It was two against one, and their side held the wine hostage. I gave in and explained about the Advertising Bowl faceoff against Camille. “Since Holiday Buzz only takes on clients who have a positive impact on ‘humans and humankind’, Ric’s helping me.” I waggled my brows on the “humans and humankind”, inviting her to broach the v-topic herself.
“He’s helping you? You got friendly!” She beamed at me like a star pupil. “Told you the bra would work.”
“We didn’t get friendly that way!” I blushed. “Not exactly. Not intentionally. I mean, not today. Today was just business. Mostly.”
“And yesterday?” Nikos rumbled.
He would have to hit on that.
I glared at him. “I liked you better when you never said anything.” But two could play the evasion game. “Actually, Nikos, I’m glad you’re here. Ric said something and I need to ask you both. About vam—”
“Drink your wine,” Twyla said at the same time Nikos thrust a bag under my nose and said, “Chocolate?”
Enough was enough. I swiped the bag from him and yelled, “Vampires! Details. Juicy. Now.”
There was a shocked silence. Then Twyla said, “Ooh. You shouldn’t have done that. Not with Bo in the next—”
The bedroom door slammed open. Limned by the sun striping through the bedroom’s vertical window blinds was six-four, two hundred pounds of Viking.
He stalked into the living room. Thick wavy blond hair, frosty blue eyes, shoulders like a freeway, chest like a brick building and arms like tree trunks, he was tightly muscled and radiating intensity. He wasn’t quite as big as Mt. Nikos but the sheer command in his stride said if there was a master vampire for the city of Meiers Corners, Bo Strongwell was it.
“Vampires don’t exist.” His dark rumble echoed weirdly in my head. “You will forget this conversation ever took place.”
“Okay.” I nodded pleasantly. “Whatever you say.”
He stopped. Frowned at me. “What did I say to you?”
“You told me to forget this conversation ever took place. So I’m forgetting it, see?” I put down my glass—but held onto the chocolates—and spread my hands. “It’s forgotten.”
“Damn me,” he said. “Not another one.”
Nikos chuckled. When Bo skewered him with a nasty look, the chuckle subsided to a grin.
Twyla, to my surprise, was preening. “That’s my cousin.”
“What’s the problem? I said I’d forgotten it.”
Bo got all grumpy-faced. “If you’d really forgotten it, you wouldn’t have remembered forgetting it.”
“Sure.” How had the people I loved and trusted gotten harder to understand than a sales guru? “Well, if I’m not forgetting it, can you tell me what you meant when you said ‘Not another one’? That’s what Camille said yesterday, and ‘another one’ meant me.”
“Oh boy,” Twyla said to no one in particular. “Here it comes.” She poked me. “I’m gonna need chocolate for this.”
I pulled one out of the bag I’d swiped from Nikos and unwrapped it before handing it to her. “Camille also asked where you Alliance boys find ‘them’, again meaning me. What’s an Alliance boy?”
“Fuck.” Bo ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it, paced away two steps, whirled back and glared at me like this was my fault. “Jævla rasshøl.” I didn’t know what that meant but he said it like “fucking asshole”. Hopefully not me.
He threw himself onto the other sofa. On him it looked like a big chair. Even though he was fuming, the boyishly mussed hair made him look good enough to eat. I was beginning to see all vampires were unnaturally attractive, maybe part of their predator kit.
He shot an aggrieved glance at Twyla. “How long has she known?”
“She is right here,” I pointed out.
“This is the first I’ve heard about it.” Twyla shrugged and nibbled her chocolate. “But I’d guess she’s suspected for quite a while. It’s impossible not to see if you’re living right on top of it. I should know.”
“Right here.” I was starting to understand how Camille had felt last night, ignored by Ric. Without the, you know, kissing part.
The front door slammed open. “Wish you could stand sunlight, Bo. Did you know that if you float on your back the fishies will nibble your heels…whoa, a wine and chocolate party and you started without me?”
Striding into the living room was five-nine of lithe, deadly female, shaking out a wet mop of black hair so curly it could arrest criminals all on its own.
Detective Elena Strongwell.
Only to my shock she wasn’t exactly striding so much as waddling. I hadn’t seen Elena since high school. Wearing a bikini top, cutoff jeans and sandals, either she’d duct-taped a watermelon under her belly button or—
She was honking pregnant.
“Well.” I unwrapped a chocolate of my own. “Good thing I’ve been through my obstetrics rotation. You’re due when, two years ago?”
“Nah. Not ‘til July fuck-me twenty-fifth.” At a raised eyebrow from her husband she amended, “Pardon me, July fuzzy-bears-and-kittens twenty-fifth. Trying to dial back on the swearing in prep for the kid. A few weeks, but I’ve been ready for months.” She tossed her beach bag onto the couch, flopped down next to Bo and levered her feet into his lap. “Rub.”
“What’s the magic word?” Aimed at her, his dark growl had softened to almost a purr.
“Now.”
With a smile he slid off her sandals and began to knead the ball of one foot.
She moaned. “Ohhh, that is so fuh…fudgy delight good.”
“As good as the rubbing you got this morning, Detective?”
One eye cracked. “Unfair. That’s like comparing chocolate and wine. They’re both out of this world.”
“Eww,” I said. “I don’t want to think of you two ‘rubbing’.” I pulled a couple chocolates out of the bag and tossed them to her. “Take those instead. There’s a reason that kind of thing stays behind bedroom doors.”
Twyla smirked. “Only because you’re not getting any. Or at least not that way. Not intentionally. Only business.” She added teeth in a shark’s smile. “According to you.”
My cheeks heated. Relatives are annoying. Rels with great memories are why wedgies were invented. “He kissed me, okay? Happy?”
“Exceedingly.” She had the gall to smirk. If it hadn’t been for Nikos’s protective hovering, her thong would’ve been around her ears.
“You got kissed?” Elena opened both eyes—on me. Her stare was direct and piercing, her cop stare. “Who? Where? How was it? C’mon, I want details.”
“Cops always want details,” I grumbled.
“The ‘who’ is Ric Holiday.” Twyla was gloating so hard I wanted to either crawl under the sofa or do her next gynecology exam with a speculum from the fridge. “Where is at the party. I knew the sexy pushup bra would do the trick.”
“Still. Right. Here.”
“The old lingerie trick.” Elena pursed her lips. “Yeah, that’s always a good one. Bo gave me a lavender set that rocks. Although my near-B bra wouldn’t fit her.” She looked down at herself. “Wouldn’t fit me right now either, the tit fairy having finally visited, ten years late.”
“I love you both ways, Detective.” Bo started rubbing the other foot. She groaned and went flat on the couch.
“Look, enough.” My face was hot. I unwrapped chocolate to give myself time to recover. “I kissed Ric but that’s all I’ve done. And that’s all I’m going to do.” I popped the chocolate in my mouth and started chomping. “There’s no future in it. He’s an ad man, okay? All sizzle, no steak. He’s lies and misdirection, not meaty facts.”
“Meaty?” Twyla waggled her eyebrows.
My face flamed. I stopped chewing because the chocolate just melted. “I didn’t mean it that way. Exactly.” I swallowed. “Look, the point is, he told me something that might not be a lie. Might be true. Probably is true from the way you’re all acting. About his being a vampire—”
Bo hissed. “Keep your voice down. This cabin is sturdy but not soundproof.”
“I wasn’t shouting,” I said.
“We don’t use the v-word except in private,” Twyla said. “Very private, like our soundproofed households. Public cabins are…public.”
“Oh, come on. The nearest occupied cabin is three doors down.”