I Was A Vampire Wedding Planner
Alecia Monaco
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Copyright ©2006 Alecia Monaco
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ISBN (10) 1-59596-456-8
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To B.E.M.and V.W.M.
For allowing me to be myself
Chapter 1
“Yes, that’s right.” Jade Simons rolled her eyes and adjusted the microphone of her telephone headset. “No roses.” She listened patiently. “I realize that roses are a staple for wedding arrangements, but the bride and groom are vampires.” She listened for the florist’s incredulous reaction, and got it in record time. “Yes, I said vampires.” She waited for the florist’s squealing reaction to die down. “Well, they are legal citizens now, and as such, are allowed to vote, own property… and marry.”
And thank goodness for that. The new vampire citizenry had helped Jade turn Nocturnal Nuptials from a one-employee operation to a fully staffed wedding planning firm.
Now, if some like-minded soul would open a vampire-oriented florist, she’d be in seventh heaven.
“Orchids would be lovely.” She scrawled a few notes. “The bride does prefer white flowers.” As she’d learned during the past year, while some vamps enjoyed playing with the dark and brooding stereotype, plenty of her brides wanted pastel floral arrangements and Vera Wang gowns. “If you could have a courier bring over your portfolio, I’m sure the bride and groom can find something they’ll love.”
Jade made arrangements for the portfolio to be delivered to Nocturnal Nuptials, and penciled in a note in the planner she’d set aside just for the Kintari wedding. She’d show the couple the portfolio at their appointment the next evening. An appointment, she reminded herself, that she’d have to work in sometime between taking her cat, Tuesday, to the vet and picking up a case of synthetic blood so she could offer her clients a beverage.
She ended the call with a sigh. Florists just didn’t seem to understand the finer points of vampirism. While not all vampires were allergic to roses, those from certain bloodlines could become violently ill when exposed to a single American Beauty.
The future Mrs. Kintari was one such vamp.
When the rest of the wedding service industry finally caught up with the times, it would be one happy day for Jade. Few businesses kept nighttime hours, so she worked in the late afternoons, carrying on the much needed work of talking to flower shops, caterers and jewelers. Clothing designers seemed to be more flexible. She’d never run into a problem with scheduling a fitting for a gown or suit after dark, which was when she saw almost all of her clients, unless half the couple happened to be human—a phenomenon, she noted, that was becoming increasingly more common.
All special needs aside, working with vampires was still preferable to her former job as assistant to one of Houston’s busiest wedding planners. She had enough Bridezilla stories from working at that place to give Stephen King nightmares. What were a few ancient and extremely powerful vampires compared to dealing with a single overbearing mother of the bride?
That was one great thing about the undead. They usually didn’t come with parents.
Her desktop intercom buzzed. She punched a button with a French manicured nail. “Yes?”
“Your six o’clock is here.” Her assistant’s chipper voice blared through the speaker like an overdose of caffeine.
“Thank you, Avery.” She smoothed her curls back by force of habit, hoping the casual upswept style she’d coerced them into that afternoon had held up halfway well. “Send them in.”
“Not them,” Avery said, his voice dropping into a teasing whisper. “Just him. And what a hunka-hunka burning undead love he is.”
“Er… thank you, Avery.” She pulled the file for her six o’clock from her inbox. “I think.”
She glanced at the neatly typed file label. Dimero/Angelle. Opening the file, she glanced at their application. Both were vampires, he much older than she. He’d been in the States for centuries, while she had recently emigrated from France. Nothing unusual there, except for the groom being a low level officer of the Vampire Court.
Jade shrugged, setting the file to one side and opening a fresh new copy of the pink planning book she used for each event. It was certainly unusual for the groom to come to the first meeting alone, but not unheard of. Maybe the bride would be along shortly. She could’ve gotten caught in traffic. Or she could be a late riser, unable to leave her daytime retreat until the sun was well below the horizon and full dark had arrived. Either way…
“Ms. Simons?” A deep male voice with the faintest undertone of an accent interrupted her musings.
She looked up, her features arranged into the smile she used for clients. But the tall figure before her made it hard to smile. He made it hard to think. Heck, he made it hard to do anything but drool.
He crossed the room to her desk in a few long strides, holding out a hand to her. “Allow me to introduce myself.” Eyes the golden brown of priceless amber met hers. She found her hand enclosed in his grip, which was both warm and powerful. “I am Renaldi D’Aria, the best man for Antonio Dimero. I come to you on his behalf.”
Her sense of professionalism saved her, stopping her from undressing him with her eyes right then and there. “Of course.” She pulled her hand from his with difficulty. His gaze still held hers, not in an attempt to spellbind her—she’d worked with too many vamps to fall for that particular trick—but with intense curiosity. It unnerved her. She smoothed her hair again and then gestured to the comfortable overstuffed chairs facing her desk. “Please, have a seat.”
He folded all six feet three inches of lean muscle into the chair across from her. “I’m so glad you could work me into your schedule. You seem to be the only wedding planner in Houston that caters to our kind.” He said the last two words in an offhand manner that told her he was one of the older ones, comfortable with himself both as a man and as a vampire.
“It’s no trouble at all.” She tried not to stare, turning her attention to the file she’d laid out on her desk. But it was hard to drag her focus from him. Vampires tended to be the gorgeous, ageless creatures that centuries of myth had portrayed them to be, but Renaldi D’Aria blew the competition away. Perfectly chiseled features, from his high angular cheekbones to his strong nose and blatantly sensual mouth, added up to a face that would’ve made Michelangelo weep. Olive skin, luminescent with that glow that only vampires seemed to possess, covered his impressive form. Lush black waves of hair fell to his shoulders in a carelessly graceful style that almost begged to be touched.
But touching him needed to be the last thing on h
er mind. Business, Jade. Remember the first rule of professionalism? Never get romantically involved with the clients.
Not, she reminded herself, that she’d have a chance with such a mouthwatering specimen. She simply wouldn’t be his type.
She shifted in the leather covered desk chair, suddenly aware of every ounce of her plus-sized frame. Not only would a guy like Renaldi have his pick of every undead bombshell out there, he probably had a line of human supermodels lining up to fill his metaphorical dance card.
Someone with her figure flaws wouldn’t stand a chance. An old familiar pain stung her heart… the pain of being last picked for any team in gym class at school, the pain of not having a date for the spring formal, of being the kind of girl the guys saw as a friend instead of date material.
Sure, she’d had a few romances over the years. But even her profession seemed to declare her destiny. She was always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
And right now, the bride was the intended of Renaldi D’Aria’s best friend.
“You see,” he continued, and Jade realized that she’d been only half listening, lost in her own thoughts, “he is so busy right now with the upcoming convergence of the Vampire Court, and his intended is new to this country. She doesn’t know the language or the customs. He has entrusted me to make his wedding the most beautiful night of his life.” He leaned across the desk, catching her hand in his again. The touch of his skin burned along hers like she’d stepped onto a live wire. She shook hands with clients every day, and none had ever sent a surge through her body the way he’d just done.
“Will you help me, Ms. Simons?” He squeezed her hand, and she could sense the immense strength of him, barely leashed in that casual touch. “Will you help me make this wedding perfect?”
She should’ve heard warning bells going off. Fire alarms, code red alerts telling her to bow out, that it would be impossible to work with a man she found so devastatingly attractive without losing her heart.
But all she could feel was the caressing sensation of his hand on hers. His honey brown gaze blinded her to everything else, and his dulcet tones drowned out even the most strident of her own misgivings.
“Yes,” she heard herself say in a voice that sounded oddly distant. “Yes, Mr. D’Aria, I’ll take the job.”
Chapter 2
Renaldi fought the urge to glamor the woman across from him. His sense of honor would not allow him to use any form of his powers to win her favor, but the temptation to do so was overwhelming.
Temptation. Jade Simons was the very personification of the word.
He let her hand slide out of his, savoring the satiny feel of her skin. She’d already agreed to take on the task of planning Antonio’s wedding. Why did he feel unsettled, as if matters between them were far from resolved?
She rested her arms on the desk blotter, giving him a blank expression that revealed nothing of her reaction to him. Yet he could sense her attraction to him, the way any master vampire could detect strong emotions. “If you’ll give me just a minute to go over the contracts, you can deliver them to the bride and groom tonight.”
He nodded, watching as she focused her attention on the sheaf of papers she’d pulled from the file on her desk. It gave him the chance to stare at her without interruption, and he took it, shamelessly looking his fill.
From her burnished copper curls and ivory skin to the ripe curves of her body, she looked like a woman transported from another era… an era he could remember as well as a mortal could remember the previous day.
It was the time and place when he’d been a mortal man. It was an era when goddesses with bodies like succulent fruit were worshipped in temples worthy of their singular beauty.
Jade Simons could’ve very well stepped out of a time machine, a statue of Venus come to life in decadently curving flesh and what he was sure would be mouth-watering blood.
“I think you’ll find everything you need in here.” She handed him the sheaf of papers with an uncertain smile.
Oh, yes. He was sure he’d found exactly what he needed.
He’d been searching for a woman like her for centuries.
She was the woman every man of Italian descent heard about his entire life, anticipating her arrival with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
Jade Simons was his thunderbolt.
———
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you.” Jade stood up, consciously adjusting her lilac suit and silk blouse. She stuck her hand out awkwardly. “I’m looking forward to working with you and the lucky couple.”
He took the proffered hand in a motion as smooth as water rippling over stones. “The pleasure,” he said as he bent over her hand, “was all mine.”
Such clichéd words, but said in tones that made her body tighten in all the right places. When his lips brushed the back of her hand, her pulse skittered into a running gallop. Aware that he could detect the change in her heart rate with his vampiric senses, she tore her hand away from him like someone who’d scalded herself on a red-hot stove.
The golden honey eyes filled with concern. “Forgive me, Ms. Simons.”
“Jade,” she interjected.
He gave her a slow nod. “Jade,” he continued, “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Oh, great. Ten minutes with the guy and she’d already made a certifiable ass of herself. “No, really, I…” She what? Was uncomfortable with how turned on she was by him? Wrong answer. “I’m just jittery. Too much caffeine so I can keep vampire hours.” She caught the potential insult as soon as it came from her lips, and clapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.
Renaldi threw his dark head back and laughed. “I have a feeling, Ms…” He stopped. “Jade,” he corrected himself. “I have a feeling that I’m going to enjoy working with you very much.”
She gave him a weak smile. She didn’t know if enjoy was the exact word she would’ve chosen, but she sensed that working with Renaldi D’Aria would definitely be a challenge to her… on every possible level.
Chapter 3
“Good evening, Jade.” Renaldi rose to his feet when she entered the ballroom.
Jade made one last-ditch effort to steel her jangled nerves as she sat down in the teak dining chair across from Renaldi and returned his greeting. “I think you’ll be pleased with the tasting menu I’ve arranged.” She gestured at the white-clad chef’s assistant waiting in the wings of the hotel ballroom where the wedding reception was to take place. “We’re doing the tables all in white, like this.” She indicated the smooth pearl colored damask cloth draping the cozy round table for two where they sat. “As soon as Marie and Antonio decide on a centerpiece, I’ll place the order with the florist, and we can move on to choosing her bouquet.”
Renaldi nodded in approval. “Excellent. You are competent beyond your years, Jade.”
She blushed furiously under his praise. “I do what I can to make each wedding as perfect as possible.”
The chef’s assistant appeared at their table, a tray in each hand. “The chef thought you would prefer to test the cake samples.” He set a china plate covered with tiny squares of cake in an array of flavors in front of Jade.
“For you, sir, we have samples of the finest synthetic blood in a variety of flavors.” He placed a silver tray gleaming with shot glasses and a single flute of champagne in front of Renaldi. “We have Type O.” The assistant swept his hand toward the first shot glass. “A classic. Then there’s black cherry…” He pointed to the next glass. “… dark chocolate, merlot, raspberry, and our house specialty, red velvet.” He took the glass bubbling over with champagne from the tray and placed it to the side of Jade’s plate. “A glass of our finest vintage, sure to please any human wedding guests.”
Renaldi examined the glass with approval. “We’ll have many swans at this wedding—”
“Swans being the term for human donors?” Jade interrupted.
“Yes,” Renaldi answered. “And we must have a choice vintage f
or them to drink.”
With a brisk nod, the assistant departed, vanishing between the swinging doors that led to the hotel kitchen.
Jade squirmed in her chair, overcome with hyperawareness of Renaldi sitting so close to her. She could feel the warmth of his legs beneath the table. If she moved forward in her seat a fraction of an inch, her knee would brush up against…
“A toast.” Renaldi’s silken voice interrupted her thoughts. He lifted the tiny glass of Type O.
Jade followed suit, raising her champagne flute, keeping her fingers wrapped around the slender stem. “To the lucky couple.”
Renaldi’s gaze caught hers like a snare. “To love.”
Once again, she felt that hypnotic pull, that magnetic draw that was more than mere vampire tricks. She opened her suddenly dry mouth and managed to whisper an echo of his toast. “To love.”
They clinked their glasses together with a perfect ping.
She took a small sip of her champagne, letting its smooth fruity taste fill her mouth even as the bubbles tickled her nose. Renaldi inhaled deeply from his glass, apparently testing the aroma of his drink before tasting it. She watched in rapt fascination as he wrapped his lips around the edge of the glass and took a slow sip, savoring the ruby colored liquid with his eyes closed.
He swallowed, breathing out in a deep exhale.
Jade realized she’d been holding her breath the entire time, taking in the spectacle of him turning a simple drink into a full sensory experience. She let it out with a gusty sigh.
The man was sex incarnate. How could she not stare?
“You haven’t touched your cake.”
She forced herself to return to the present moment at the sound of his voice. She was there to choose a wedding cake for the human guests, not to imagine a chocolate covered vampire nestled between her sheets. Quickly, she stabbed the tiny square of carrot cake with her fork, getting her least favorite out of the way first. “How was the Type O?” She shoved it into her mouth, glad for the comforting distraction of food, even if eating in front of the walking fantasy across from her made her a little uncomfortable.
I Was A Vampire Wedding Planner Page 1