Sexiest Vampire Alive

Chapter Eleven

“Hello, there. I’m Prunella Culpepper, but everyone calls me Pru.”

Abigail turned to find two women behind her in the neighboring booth. One was fair and blond, the other a beautiful brunette. Both were smiling, their sharp canine teeth gleaming. Vampires. And if she wasn’t mistaken, these were the same two women who had drooled all over Gregori at the DJ’s station.

“I am Constanza Maria Hhhortencia,” the brunette said, stressing the h in a way that made Abigail move back to keep from being spit on.

“Who are—” Constanza’s brown eyes widened. “Santa Maria, you are hhhuman.”

Pru leaned over the booth and sniffed. “By George, you’re right! You can always smell ’em.”

What the heck? Abigail glanced over at Gregori. He was in line at the bar, but he was watching her with a worried look. Charles was standing about ten feet away, watching her, too.

Constanza huffed and tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. “I can’t believe Gregori would stoop so low.”

“Precisely,” Pru agreed. “He’s never dated a mortal before. What could he possibly see in this chit?”

“Maybe she tastes good.”

Pru sniffed again, then shook her head. “Type O. Dreadfully common, don’t you know.”

Abigail cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”

Pru winced. “Sorry, luv, but it simply makes no sense at all. Why would Gregori date a mortal when he has so many Vamp women eager to date him?”

“Hhhundreds of them,” Constanza clarified. “They say hhe is excellent in the sack.”

Abigail sat back. Gregori was a . . . playboy?

“I would sleep with hhim in a second,” Constanza added.

“Any sensible woman would,” Pru murmured. “Alas, I am still waiting my turn.”

Constanza gasped. “I thought you already did it! I saw you kissing hhim on the dance floor two weeks ago.”

Pru smiled with a dreamy look. “By George, that man can kiss. I haven’t been kissed like that since 1762.”

Abigail blinked. “You’ve been a vampire that long?”

Pru shook her head. “I was mortal then, don’t you know. I was working in a tavern in Dover when a dashing young highwayman pulled me onto his lap and gave me a kiss that curled my toes. Then he asked me if I’d be his mistress.”

Constanza grinned. “And you said yes?”

“Of course. Any sensible woman would.”

“And then what happened?” Constanza asked.

“I became his assistant,” Pru continued. “I dressed in knee breeches and hid my hair under a tricorne. We robbed coaches at night and had a jolly ole time of it.”

Abigail scooted closer, thoroughly intrigued. It was like talking to a live historical figure. “Did you say, ‘Stand and deliver?’ ”

Pru nodded. “Of course. Everything was just dandy until we stopped a coach that belonged to a vampire. He jumped my poor highwayman and fed off him till he was dead as a doornail.”

Abigail gulped. Her gaze shifted to Gregori. Did he ever attack people like that? Surely not. He’d claimed last night that he and his friends were morally opposed to injuring mortals. And they were fighting the bad vampires in order to protect mortals.

“So what happened to you?” Constanza asked.

Pru smiled. “The vampire was a rich and handsome viscount. When he discovered I was a beautiful young woman, he offered me the eternal life of the Undead if I would agree to be his mistress. I said yes, of course. Any sensible woman would.”

“Of course,” Constanza agreed.

Abigail winced, wondering if Pru had left her dead former lover on the side of the road.

“He taught me proper English, don’t you know.” Pru’s eyes narrowed. “We were happy for years until he tossed me aside to marry Lady Pamela.”

“That bitch,” Constanza hissed.

Pru shrugged. “All water under the bridge. The point is I’ve known quite a few good kissers over the years, but none of them compare to Gregori. By George, that man can kiss.”

Abigail’s gaze drifted back to him at the bar. Oh brother. Now there were two more girls hanging on him.

She shook herself mentally. She needed to get over her attraction to him. He was a vampire and a playboy. And he had strange psychic powers. Three major points she could never reconcile herself to. The sad truth was he was impossible. Completely, irreparably impossible.

A heaviness settled in her chest, and she closed her eyes briefly. It shouldn’t hurt this bad. She’d only met him last night.

But she’d never met anyone like him before. Physically, he made her heart race, her knees weak, and her dopamine levels skyrocket. Intellectually, he fascinated her. With her mind and body both drawn to him, how could she resist?

“So why didn’t you sleep with hhim?” Constanza asked.

“I wanted to. I invited him to my flat, but . . .” Pru hesitated, her eyes gleaming. “You’ll never guess what he told me.”

Constanza leaned toward her. “What?”

Abigail eased closer to make sure she heard.

“He said the sun would rise in thirty minutes, and it wasn’t enough time. Someone as beautiful as me deserved an entire night where I could be worshipped and pleasured to my heart’s content.” Pru pressed a hand to her chest. “It was the most romantic thing I’ve ever been told.”

Abigail’s heart squeezed. Wow. He sounded like one of the heroes from her mother’s books. If he ever talked to her like that, she’d probably melt at his feet.

“Ooh, he is so hhhot.” Constanza turned to Abigail. “You are so lucky, hhuman. You should sleep with hhim tonight.”

“Any sensible woman would,” Pru added. “And it’s still early, so you can let him pleasure you all night long.”

She swallowed hard. All night long. “I-I’m not really dating him.”

Pru sat up with a hopeful smile. “Then you won’t mind if I take him?”

Abigail glanced at him. He was headed toward them, a glass in each hand and his eyes focused intently on her. Her heart started to pound. You must resist. He was completely, irreparably impossible.

But she could pretend, couldn’t she? Just for one night, she could pretend that a handsome, sexy man like Gregori was choosing her over everyone else.

“No,” she whispered. “He’s with me.”

Pru huffed. “You want him for yourself?”

Abigail gave her a wry look. “Any sensible woman would.”

Pru’s eyes narrowed with anger. “How do you intend to keep him? You’re just a mortal.”

“Sí,” Constanza agreed. “You can’t even do levitation sex.”

“Excuse me?” Abigail asked.

“You know.” Constanza pointed up in the air. “On the ceiling.”

Abigail’s mouth dropped open as she recalled seeing Gregori floating on the ceiling of the Oval Office. Levitation sex? Was such a thing possible?

Pru shook her head and tsked. “You’ve never done it on the ceiling, have you? Do you really think someone as inexperienced as you can keep Gregori satisfied?”

The man in question set the drinks on the table with a clunk and frowned at the two vampire women. “If you will excuse us, I’d like to be alone with my date.”

The ladies scooted out of their booth and rushed over to lean against him.

“I’m still waiting for you, Gregori,” Pru whispered.

“Me too.” Constanza ran her fingers down his arm.

My date, Abigail thought. He’d called her my date. Of course he could be saying it just to get rid of the vampire women, but her heart ignored that notion and thumped wildly.

The women sneered at Abigail, then flipped their hair over their shoulders and strode back to the dance floor.

Gregori slid her drink in front of her, then sat, not across from her, but right next to her. She eased to the side just a fraction. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice.

“Are you afraid of me?” he whispered.

He’d noticed.

She shook her head, then gulped some of her Diet Coke. Afraid wasn’t the right word. Unnerved. Freaked. But strangely attracted. Curious. Sex on the ceiling? And she was a bit . . . miffed, to be honest. She didn’t like the mental picture of him kissing Pru on the dance floor. Prunella Culpepper, who could leave a lover dead on the side of the road and take off with his murderer. Gregori deserved better than that.

“You look upset.” He peered closely at her. “Did those women say something to disturb you?”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Her gaze lowered to his mouth, and Pru’s words taunted her. By George, that man can kiss. She scooted down the booth a little.

“Your father wanted us to get better acquainted. Can you tell me what sort of project he has in mind?”

“I’d rather not say just yet.” She drank some more soda. How on earth could she travel with this man? He was too . . . alluring. Too dangerous. Too damned sexy.

He moved a little closer. “Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?”

“Yes. Ah . . .” Do you really worship and pleasure a woman all night long? On the ceiling? She mentally shook herself. There were more important issues she needed to address. “What happens to you during the day?”

“I sleep.”

“That’s . . . all?”

The corner of his mouth curled up. “I don’t snore.”

She looked away from the power of his dimple. “What kind of psychic abilities do you have?”

He sat back, then moved his glass closer. “Are you going to report whatever I say to the CIA?”

“I don’t mean to cause you any trouble, Mr. Holstein, but I need to know if it’s safe for me to be with you.”

“I would never hurt you.” He paused, then added wryly, “Miss Tucker.”

Was he mocking her for trying to keep some distance between them? “If you’ll answer my questions honestly, then I won’t repeat whatever you tell me.”

He nodded. “Deal.”

“Did you make that man break his camera?”

“It seemed the best recourse at the time. I didn’t want my photo in a paper.” He glanced at her. “And I figured you didn’t want the publicity, either.”

That was true. But she wasn’t going to thank him. “So you admit that you can mess with our minds.”

His mouth thinned. “We have the right to protect ourselves. How do you think we managed to keep our existence secret?”

She snorted. “You’ve never been secret. There have been horror stories about your kind for centuries.”

“That just means we didn’t mess with your minds enough. We allowed too many memories to stay intact.”

She winced. “You can erase a mortal’s memory?”

He shifted on the padded booth, turning to face her. “Vampires survived for centuries on human blood. The usual procedure was to feed, then wipe the memory. It kept the vampire safe, and it protected the mortal from any bad memories.”

“How thoughtful of you,” she said wryly.

He arched a brow. “You don’t think vampires have the right to survive or protect themselves?”

“You don’t have the right to screw with our minds.”

His mouth curled up. “How about your bodies?”

She scoffed and inched down the booth. “Did you make Madison’s dog fall asleep?”

“Self-defense, Miss Tucker. It was about to gnaw on my leg.”

“Can you do the same to a human?”

“I could.” He inched closer. “If you’re planning to gnaw on my leg.”

Her face warmed with a blush. “I don’t gnaw on people. That’s your specialty.”

His mouth twitched. “I don’t gnaw on people, either, Miss Tucker. I’m a young Vamp. I take my meals from bottles.”

“You’ve never bitten anyone?”

“I’ve never bitten a mortal. And I’ve never bitten for food, so you can relax. You’re completely safe.”

Instead of feeling reassured, she quickly analyzed his answer. “So you’ve bitten vampires for . . . other reasons?”

He looked surprised, then adjusted his tie. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

“Then I’m right? You’ve bitten vampires?”

“Only women.” He looked away, frowning. “In the right situation it can be a pleasurable thing.”

A frisson of heat sizzled through her. “How?”

“You’ll have to trust me on that.” He glanced at her, and his eyes turned a more brilliant green. “Unless you’d like a demonstration?”

“No.” She scooted farther away in the booth.

His jaw shifted as he reached for his drink. “I’m not a monster, Miss Tucker. I won’t hurt you.”

She winced inwardly. If only she could think of him as a monster. It might help her squash this strange attraction she felt for him. Could he actually make a bite feel pleasurable?

She watched him drink the red liquid topped with pinkish foam. When he licked the foam off his lips, her heartbeat sped up. By George, that man can kiss. She slapped herself mentally. Don’t think about that! “What—what are you drinking?”

“It’s called Bleer. Half synthetic blood, half beer. It’s one of the more popular drinks in Vampire Fusion Cuisine.”

Her mouth dropped open. Vampire Fusion Cuisine? She looked at the foamy drink, then back at Gregori. “Are you kidding me?” She reached for the glass.

“Abigail.” He grabbed the glass, his hand covering hers. “Don’t drink it. It could make you ill.”

“I just want to smell it.” She glanced up.

He was leaning toward her, his face close to hers. “Okay.”

She inhaled deeply, then closed her eyes to concentrate on her other senses. The yeasty smell of beer and metallic scent of blood. And the warmth of his hand on hers.

She opened her eyes and found him studying her face. Her heartbeat screamed into overdrive. She set the glass down and pulled her hand away. “So you need blood to stay alive? You are alive, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “At the moment, yes. My heart is beating just like yours.” His mouth curled up, making his dimples show. “But not quite as fast.”

Her face grew warm. So he could actually hear her heartbeat. She motioned toward Josh, who was standing two booths down and talking quietly on his cell phone. “Can you hear him?”

Gregori tilted his head as he focused on Josh. “Sparkle’s still on the dance floor.” He turned to her with a questioning look.

“We all have code names. Madison is Sparkle.”

He smiled. “It suits her.” He leaned close to Abigail, his eyes twinkling. “So what’s your code name?”

She shrugged. “Not important.”

“That’s a lousy code name.”

“That’s not my—”

He chuckled. “Let me guess. Your sister is Sparkle, so you’re . . . Brilliant.”

“No.” Her cheeks grew hotter.

“But you are brilliant.”

Unfortunately, her face probably was a brilliant red.

“Well, if you refuse to talk, I have other ways of finding out.” He glanced at Josh, who had put away his cell phone and was now murmuring to Charles on his wrist communicator. “Sailor? Who’s that?”

“My dad.”

Gregori’s eyebrows lifted. “He didn’t want to be an Admiral?”

“All of our names start with s. And Dad likes being Sailor. He’s a Navy man, and he thinks it makes him sound humble.”

Gregori gave her a dubious look.

“I know. He doesn’t always appear very humble. But it’s hard to look modest when you’re trying to show a lot of confidence and competence as a leader.” She ran a finger around the rim of her glass. “He’s different when he’s with us. Especially when he’s with my mom. He loves her so much. When you’re watching someone you love slowly die, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it, it’s very humbling.”

Her hand stilled. What on earth was she doing? Opening up to a vampire? She glanced at Gregori. His eyes had a faraway look to them, a look of remembrance and pain.

She sipped some of her Diet Coke. He remained silent, and she wondered what sad place he had drifted off to.

She reached out to touch him, but changed her mind and lowered her hand to the table. “I’m sorry if I made you sad. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s all right.” He smiled, but the sadness lingered in his eyes. “I’m really sorry about your mother.”

She blinked when tears threatened. It had been a long time since she’d talked to anyone about her mom. She usually kept her fears and anxieties bottled up. And when she was with her mom, she always tried to be cheerful. “Her code name is Serenity.”

“That’s an excellent name for her.”

“Yes.” Abigail clenched her fists, determined to keep her emotions in check.

Gregori rested his hand on top of hers. “It’ll be all right.”

She froze. His hand felt perfectly warm and human. And his touch was light and . . . tender. Her gaze darted to Josh, who was standing two booths to the right, and then Charles, two booths to the left. “I—”

“Sorry.” Gregori lifted his hand. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable? She was tempted to hold hands with him under the table. There was a kindness to him that she hadn’t expected. It made him even harder to resist.

“You’re a sneaky one.” He eyed her with an obviously fake suspicion. “You never did tell me your code name.” He eased closer. “Is that it? Sneaky?”

She shook her head, smiling. This was more of his kindness. He was teasing her out of her moment of sadness. And making her like him even more.

“I know! It’s Secret, because you live a secret life.”

She shook her head again. “It’s not anything very exciting.”

“Hmm.” He studied her closely. “Sweet? Sugar? Spicy?”

She grinned.

“Sex Kitten?”

She laughed. “Are you crazy?”

“It sounds right to me.”

She shook her head, ignoring the heat of her blush. “They based it on my . . . brain.”

“Ah.” He gave her a wide-eyed innocent look. “Simpleton?”

“What?” She swatted his shoulder. “How dare you?”

He laughed. “I’d rather have you attacking me than scooting away. We’ve moved halfway around the booth.”

She pressed a hand against her hot face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” He leaned closer. “So your code name is . . . Scientist? Super Brain? Smarty Pants?”

She laughed. “I’m Scholar.”

“Scholar?”

“I warned you. It’s not very exciting.”

“Oh, but it is.” He tugged at one of her curls, then let it go. “I can’t imagine anything more exciting than a . . . scholarly pursuit.”

She gulped. Was he making a pass at her? A part of her leaped with joy that such a handsome, charming, mysterious man could desire her. But another part warned her he was impossible. Completely, irreparably impossible. She couldn’t allow herself to fall for a vampire.

Besides, Pru and Constanza were probably right. Why would he be interested in a mortal when so many Undead women wanted him? She had to seem boring compared to vampire women who could have sex on the ceiling.

A terrible thought weaseled into her mind. What if he was just pretending to like her for political reasons? He might be charming her to ingratiate himself and his kind with her father. A playboy would be an expert at charming women.

She groaned inwardly. It was foolish, wishful thinking to believe Gregori was attracted to her. The guys who usually gravitated toward her were the geeky type—lanky build, nerdy glasses, and totally immersed in science. She’d dated a few like that in college and grad school. The relationships had been . . . comfortable.

But they were not the men she dreamed about. After years of listening to her mother’s audio books, she’d found herself wanting more than comfortable. She wanted heat and passion. Desperate desire. She wanted to long for a man who would long for her. She wanted a man who believed she should be worshipped and pleasured to her heart’s content. All night long.

She’d feared such men existed only in fiction.

Now she feared they were all too real.

She couldn’t let herself fall for a vampire. Or a playboy. A vampire expected sex on the ceiling. A playboy would find her sister attractive. Not her.

She sighed. “I know about you.”

His green eyes widened. “What do you know?”

“You’re a playboy.”