Since meeting Casey, he’d tried to stay as far away as he could. She was sweet and kind, untainted. But one night after Teddie had gone off on one of her trips, he’d overheard Casey crying. Her broken sobs ripped at his soul. He’d gone to her then, standing outside her door with a bottle of wine and two glasses, making an excuse that he’d gotten off on the wrong floor and heard her crying.
She’d been so overwrought, she didn’t question him. They’d talked all night. By the time the sun rose, he had her life story. One he envied in its simplicity. Lovely and intelligent. Her over-protective parents had given her a life for which she was humbly grateful.
“I can’t believe they’re gone.” She sniffed and put her head on his shoulder, hair smelling of vanilla and lavender. Her scent drove him mad. “I keep thinking it isn’t fair, but maybe we only get to be happy for a little bit. I’ve had twenty-four years of a mostly perfect life, if you don’t count high school.” She’d lifted her head and given him a watery smile.
“What happened in high school?” he’d asked.
“The usual. Humiliation. Mortification. And my favorite, these.” She’d pointed to her breasts then, which were firmly ensconced in one of the ratty Harvard sweatshirts she liked to wear.
To cover his shock, he’d laughed and coughed like he had earlier. His fangs betraying the surge of heat in his groin at the mention of her breasts.
Before he left, he’d glanced down into those watery blue eyes of hers. There were no marks on her skin—beautiful polished porcelain. Washed only with soap and water, which he knew because he could smell her fresh scent.
Back in the present, his fangs extended again. Nick stared up at the ceiling. How much longer can I do this? Christ, she’d been standing not ten feet away from him, glistening from her recent shower, her towel opened in the most opportune way. The site had caused his beast to rise to the occasion, right along with other parts of his body.
No. There was a line he refused to cross when it came to her. He tried to take a big brother approach, helping her through the death of her parents, something he understood better than most. His parents had been the victims of a murderous bitch more than eight hundred years ago, but he still missed them.
He’d taken a two-week business trip to Hong Kong, with the idea of getting Casey out of his system. He’d gone clubbing with his business partners and picked up two women, but he hadn’t taken them back to his hotel. His mind had drifted to Casey. None of them had her scent or that sweet giggle when she found something funny. Thinking about her as he took care of himself in the shower every night—sometimes two or three times—had become a habit.
The torture of being so close without being able to touch her drove him mad. If she knew what I am…
When the elevator door finally opened, a familiar man stepped in, blocking Nick’s path as he made his way out of the elevator.
“Let me guess, Casey?” Mason surprised him. His assistant was the only human, except for Casey, Nick trusted. The difference was Mason knew the truth about him.
Nick slid his hands into his jean pockets. Was he that obvious? “Fuck off. And I thought you were taking the evening off?”
“Hong Kong called as I was leaving.” Mason held up a hand. “Don’t worry, I took care of it. And every time you go see her, you come back in a mood. Why don’t you just ask her out?”
Nick grunted. “You know exactly why. I won’t taint her goodness with my—And she deserves more than lust, which is all I can offer.”
Mason shrugged. “It’s obvious she cares about you. I think you should at least give her the opportunity to call you a monster and kick you out.”
The idea of never seeing Casey again was abhorrent. What if he scared her, and she ran? No. Every moment with her was worth any suffering. Nick didn’t have many friends, and he wasn’t about to lose one of his best ones because he couldn’t control his libido.
“Don’t forget you have to make an appearance at the Heringmon’s charity event tonight.”
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He’d forgotten. He’d planned to spend the night watching the horrible television shows Casey loved. It was all he could do not to snicker during her favorite program, Night Angels. Those vampires were fallen angels who solved crimes to get their wings back.
Yeah, right. Vampires were definitely not angels, something he knew better than anyone.
“By the way, Alvinia called.”
Nick’s jaw tightened. He hated that name. “And?” he bit out.
“Saturday is the choosing. She has a gift she wants to present to you in front of the Council. She promised you wouldn’t be disappointed.”
The last gift the bitch gave him very nearly caused his execution. He still hadn’t forgiven her. And those poor children whose memories he’d had to erase. He’d set up college tuition funds for the nightmare Alvinia had put them through. Who the hell boxed up children in a crate and sent them as a blood gift?
Alvinia.
“Tell her to fuck off.” Remembering the last time he’d pissed her off, he thought better of it. “No, politely decline. And send her a couple of boxes of the wine you gave me. Oh, and buy the winery. Casey loved it, so you know it will sell well.” The sexy woman had the Midas touch and she had absolutely no idea. Nick would show her products from his various corporations, and it never failed, if she liked something, it sold. If she didn’t like it, the product became a write-off. After the first seven times it happened, he only bought the ones she liked. It had worked out well. He’d put more than half of his profit in a trust for her, but of course she didn’t know that.
His life was in constant danger, and if something happened, he wanted to make sure that Casey could live however she wanted. She had Teddie, but Nick thought giving her independence was the greatest gift for someone like her. She had a decent job as a graphic artist, but she didn’t have the freedom to work on her “non-advertising” side, as she liked to call it. He refused to admit to himself why he didn’t want her to have the freedom to move away just now. He told himself it was for her own good that she needed to be around family for now. He’d tell her later, when she was ready to move on. But at least he knew she’d be fine if anything ever happened to him.
The danger was one of the many reasons he hadn’t tried to date or sleep with her. A relationship with Nick could easily turn into an eternity of looking over one’s shoulder and watching your every step. It wasn’t a life he’d choose for Casey.
The choosing, why did it have to be so soon? Tonight he’d have daughters of all the Council members foisted upon him. Finding a mate was a necessity, not really a choice, which made the title ironic. If he had his druthers, his mate would be Casey. No other woman would ever come close to the way she made him feel. And from the way her blood rushed through her heart when he was around, she wasn’t exactly adverse to him either.
If you really cared about her, you’d pick a wife and move back to Greece.
Mason had a point. If he presented his problem to Casey and told her what he was, she could make the choice for him and he’d bet his last dollar she’d run for the hills. He rubbed his temple.
The vibration in his pocket pulled him from his reverie as he fished out the cell phone. He glanced up to discover Mason had made himself scarce. The man was uncanny.
Casey’s picture came up on his phone. He’d taken it one night when she’d fallen asleep on the couch.
“Casey?”
“Hey.” He loved that he could hear her smile when she spoke. “Should I put the bottle back in the fridge? Did something come up?”
Yes, his libido was way, way up.
Just say ’yes,’ and tell her you forgot about the event.
“Put the bottle back in the fridge,” he forced himself to reply.
She sighed, and the sound tore at him. Each time he left suddenly, he knew it hurt her feelings. She didn’t see how incredible she was. If he dumped her again tonight, she’d think i
t was because she wasn’t interesting or beautiful. Even though they weren’t dating, his behavior was beginning to border on rude.
If she only knew why…
Enough. Mason’s words haunted him and propelled him to do something before he lost the nerve. “Casey, I need a favor. A big one.”
“Okay,” her voice was hesitant. “You know I’m here for you. Do you need something from the store?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “No, it’s a little bigger than that. I need a date for tonight.”
Her silence actually made him start to sweat. Probably the first vampire in the history of the species to perspire. Fuck. He swiped at his brow. “Umm I forgot about an important event. I’m in the middle of a deal with the man whose wife is throwing the charity gala. I have to go. If I show up without a date, I’ll have to deal with half of Dallas society throwing their daughters at me. It’s last minute, but I really need you.”
Well, at least that last part was true.
And if he had a date, the mother’s of the eligible daughters wouldn’t be so pushy. At least one could hope.
“Uh. Nick. I would do anything to help you, but I—uh. Well, I’m me. Don’t you have a black book, or five, full of names? I’m sure you can find someone more to your…tastes in there.” She laughed, but it sounded hollow.
He should tell her she was right and hang up, but he couldn’t. Once and for all, he wanted to show her that she had so much more to offer than she believed. Every time she went out with one of those losers, he wanted to beat the shit out of someone.
The least he could do was help bolster Casey’s confidence. Maybe if she felt better about herself, she would open up to men who deserved her. As much as it pained him, there was a good chance he wouldn’t see her again after the weekend. He planned to fight the choosing with everything he could, but if he were forced to select a suitable mate, his life would change whether he wanted it to or not. He wanted his sweet little friend to be happy.
“I want you with me,” he said honestly. “I promise, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t really important.”
“Yeah, well.” She stuttered. “I don’t have clothes for that sort of thing. I mean, I have a black cocktail dress, but it’s the dress I wore to my parents’ funeral. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be appropriate for a benefit.”
That had to be the saddest thing he’d ever heard. “Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll take care of everything. The car will be here in ten minutes. I’ll come and get you in eight.”
“But—but—uh” he heard her say as he closed his phone and dashed down the hall to the back of the condo. An idea had occurred to him, and there wasn’t time to waste for his plan to work. “Mason,” he yelled.
“Henry has your tux ready, but he needs to know if you want to wear the Prada or the Xavier shoes they sent from the new collection,” Mason said as Nick entered the master suite. The man really could read minds. So helpful, since Nick didn’t have a great deal of patience and seldom explained himself.
Tonight he wanted to show Casey that she was the most beautiful woman in the world. It said so much that her only acceptable dress was one from a funeral. Which reminded him…“I need you to—”
“I’ve already called Lincoln and David. They’re expecting you in twenty minutes at the salon. Lincoln said he and his girls would bring over several gowns in Casey’s size.”
Excellent.
He preferred Casey with no makeup and in her jeans that she filled out quite nicely, but tonight he’d show the little caterpillar that she was a beautiful butterfly.
Now if he could only keep his hands off of her and his fangs under control.
Chapter Three
Squeezing her hands together to keep them from shaking, Casey stared out the window of the limo. This wasn’t how she’d expected to spend her evening. Her nerves felt like a cat on steroids clinging to a rotating ceiling fan.
This was a bad idea.
Nick traveled in different circles. One where kings, queens, and presidents clinked wine glasses and dressed in the finest clothes money could buy. Her crowd was filled with hipsters and nerds who judged each other by their T-shirts. The more obscure, the better.
Taking her hand in his, Nick squeezed her fingers. “Stop it. I wouldn’t do this to you if it weren’t absolutely necessary. You’ll have a great time.”
She glanced up into his sweet and ever-so sexy dark gray eyes. “Right. And I would do anything to help you. So I’m game. I’ll protect you from the scary Dallas moms, as long as you promise not to leave me alone with these people. I kind of freeze up in social situations.”
Kind of… was relative. In high school, she had a half-page picture with the headline “Quietest Student Ever at McKinley.” Only one of the many reasons she’d burned that book her first year of college. She leaned her head back into the soft leather seat and listened to the hum of the climate control.
While she now had plenty of friends from college and work, she was still painfully shy. Fine in a crowd of people she knew, but put her with strangers…
“You,” he said as he squeezed her hand again, “will not be leaving my side. I don’t trust the wolves. They’ll take one look at you, and then I’ll have to kill them.” He sounded so serious, and then he winked at her, taking the edge from that softly spoken threat. The limo eased to a stop.
“As if,” she whispered as the driver opened her door. She stepped out of the car and noticed where they were. Oh hell.
Salon Six 9 in Fort Worth was owned by the super famous David Blackstock. Celebrities flew him all over the world to do their hair. No doubt he’d take one look at her mop and send her packing.
“Here she is,” the stylist sang as Nick ushered her in the door. She knew Blackstock’s face from all the celebrity magazines, not that she read those sort of things–um, much. But Teddie had subscriptions to all of them, and sometimes Casey couldn’t help herself. Every once in a while she’d see Nick with some Barbie wannabe and she’d scribble over the girl’s face with a black marker.
It wasn’t crazy. It was cathartic.
“David, this is my friend, Casey,” Nick said as she shook the man’s hand. “Mason explained what’s going on, so I’m going to leave her in your capable hands.”
The stylist wiggled his fingers. “Girl, we’re going to make you shine,” he said with a slight southern twang. “Aren’t you a sexy little pin-up? Come on with me, I’ll hook you up.”
Casey liked him instantly.
“This curl is natural?”
She nodded, still not trusting her voice.
He guided her gently into a chair and whirled it around to face the mirror. His hands went into her hair and he fanned it out. “This color just needs a little brightening, something natural, and maybe a few soft caramel low-lights for contrast.” He snapped a black cape in front of her and brought it around her neck, pinning it in back to protect her clothes. “Darlin’ this skin is precious. Women in Hollywood would pay millions for it. What products do you use?”
“Uh, soap and water.”
He stared at her for a moment with his eyebrow up as if he didn’t believe her. Then he waved a hand in the air, laughing like she was joking. “That’s okay sugar, you keep your secrets. Make them wonder.”
“Dana,” he said to the elegant woman standing next to him. “Mix me number 129 with a little 73, just a smidge.”
Then he turned to his right like an animated drill sergeant as he directed his employees. “Maxine, you work on her nails while I do her color, and then you get her pedicure done while she’s under the dryer.” He might look like a male Calvin Klein model, but the man knew his business.
A beautiful woman with coffee-colored skin and beautiful green eyes walked up. “I’m Nikki,” she said as she put her finger on her chin and scrutinized Casey’s face. “Easy, classic features. Look at those cheekbones,” she said to David. “But those bushy eyebrows have to go.” She touched Casey’s arms. “Honey, we are going to
make you so beautiful tonight that Nick will have to beat them off with a stick.”
“Stick, hell,” David said. “That boy’s gonna need a shotgun.”
Casey grunted in disbelief.
For the next hour and a half, people buzzed around her like bees on speed. The craziness increased her nerves, as if that were possible. Shutting her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing, something she picked up from one of Aunt Teddie’s yoga DVDs. She always intended to do the yoga poses, but she kept falling asleep during the breathing exercises at the beginning of the DVD.
“Okay, back to shampoo,” David said as he guided her to the rear of the salon. “Ora’s going to wash you out, and then I’ll meet you up front. Linc just arrived with racks of clothes from Neiman’s and his own line. I feel like your damn fairy godmother, only more fabulous.” He gave her a wink and sashayed all six foot three of himself through the doorway.
The shampoo was the best part so far. Ora was a blessedly quiet woman, and her fingers were magic in Casey’s hair. She finally relaxed. The poor woman had to wake her up when she wrapped the towel around her head.
By the time Casey returned to the front of the shop, the place was in chaos. Racks of evening dresses, stacked at least three deep, displayed the most exquisite gowns she’d ever seen.
She swallowed hard. There was no way in hell she could afford one of those dresses. Tonight’s salon visit alone would probably take all the money she had saved. It was worth it to help poor Nick, but she didn’t know what to do, or even how to broach the subject if she came up short.
Nick motioned for her to join him.
“Linc, this is Casey.”
Linc, who was as tall as Nick and David, looked like he’d stepped out of some Ed Hardy ad. He had that edgy biker look, except that he, like Nick, was dressed in a tux. The man was gorgeous. She understood what those southern women meant when they talked about getting the vapors. She felt a little light-headed herself.
Take It Like A Vamp Page 2