Real Vampires Have More to Love (Glory St. Clair #6)

Real Vampires Have More to Love (Glory St. Clair #6) Page 54
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Real Vampires Have More to Love (Glory St. Clair #6) Page 54

“When I confronted Brent later, he broke down and admitted he needed help and let me call the doctor. I’m sorry, but your father decided he’d rather you think him dead than acting so crazy. Especially if he never got better. Isn’t that right, sugar lump?” Brent nodded when I jerked his hair.

“Daddy? Are you better now?” Viv eased closer.

“Yeah. Totally over that vampire shit.” Brent elbowed me, and I let him go. It had been gross touching him anyway.

“See? All better.” I smiled at Viv. “But he and I are history. Brent never respected my devotion to vintage and classic clothes. Love what you’re wearing. Paris?”

Viv’s face lit up. “Yes! From the cutest little shop—”

“Cut the crap, Vivien. David, did you alert the lawyers that things are going to be settled soon?” Brent shot Simon an anxious look, obviously told to get down to business.

“Yes, sir. We didn’t know ...”

“That’s all right, son. Glory’s correct. I wasn’t in my right mind. But I’m ready to get my life back now.”

Westwood glanced at Simon, who gave him a nod of approval. “Yes, you’ve made remarkable progress.” Simon smiled.

Brent turned back to his children, who looked shell-shocked. “I’ll be at the ranch tomorrow night to meet with the lawyers. I’m sorry I put you two through this. Wasn’t thinking straight. Obviously.” He walked over to Simon. “I’ll need more time in Dr. Simon’s hospital. It’s an excellent facility right outside of Austin, and where I’ve been staying.”

“Nice to know that now, Dad.” David had moved from shock to bitterness.

“Let’s start over, son. I’ll see that you both have a generous increase in allowance. David, you can have that yacht you wanted and, Vivi, that Swiss chalet.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” Viv hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

David held out his hand. “I’m sorry, Dad. Vivi and I talked about your Web site. It didn’t make sense coming from the dad we knew. We should have come to you. Tried to help you ourselves.”

Westwood clasped his son’s hand. “Well, it’s over now. No more vampire talk. You two can go back to your lives, and I’ll go back to the hospital till I get my head on completely straight.”

“Sexual dysfunction?” Viv glanced at me. “I don’t see—”

“Trust me, you really don’t want to know.” I smiled and opened the door into the shop.

“You’re right.” Viv looked at David. “Let’s go. Dad, we’ll see you tomorrow night. You can’t come with us now?”

“No. Tomorrow. Have the lawyers there. I want access to my money.” Brent smiled at Simon. “So I can make a donation to the hospital. They’re miracle workers.”

“Sure. Will do.” David finally hugged his father. “Glad you’re back, Dad.” He pulled an envelope out of his pocket. “Since you knew where he was all along, Glory, I don’t think you should get this check.” He smiled and ripped it in half.

“That was rude.” I watched them hurry out of the shop. Bet they couldn’t wait to discuss dear old dad and his “condition.”

“Glory!”

I turned and shut the door to the shop. Wouldn’t want the customers to see the weirdos in the back room.

“Yes, Brent?” I smiled. “Or should I say, sugar lump?”

“Sexual dysfunction? Was that necessary?” Brent’s hands were fisted.

“Sorry, guess that was a low blow.” I laughed when Brent lunged, but Greg caught him in a headlock. I turned my back on him. “Dr. Simon, I hope you’re satisfied and that we’re done.”

“Oh, yes. Well satisfied. Your reward will be in the alley tomorrow night. Red, you said?” Simon gave me an approving look.

I grinned. “Turbocharged. I’d kiss you, Doctor, but I haven’t had a tetanus shot. Please spare my customers and leave by the back door. Good night.”

I headed into the shop, so relieved to see the last of that crew I wanted to cry. Just being in the same room with Westwood and pretending to tolerate him had taken all my acting skills. I felt drained and sank down on the stool behind the counter. Alesa whined and complained, clearly hot for Simon. No surprise there. If anyone was marked for hell, it was Simon Destiny.

Flo’s bachelorette party. Favorite seductress. Too bad I’d been so busy I hadn’t figured out who mine was. Luckily owning a vintage-clothing store gave me a treasure trove of costumes to choose from. After taking care of all the last-minute details for the party and a trip to the alley to sigh over my beautiful new car, I threw together an outfit.

By the time I strolled into Rafe’s club, I knew I looked pretty good and felt in full seductress mode. I was early so I could supervise the setup. The music was on and booming through Rafe’s awesome sound system. Great choice, the kind of tune that made you want to bump and grind into a hard body. I grinned when a hunk in a loincloth, his perfect body oiled, showed up on cue with a tray of Blott-O.

“Nice job, Trey.” I took a glass. “And the costume is perfect. Tarzan?”

“I tried to get Rafe to put up a vine. Don’t you think the ladies would go for a jungle yell and me swinging their drinks to them?” The shifter grinned and flexed his pecs.

“They’d have loved it. But this works. Just watch your neck.” I sipped my cocktail and checked out the scene. The club looked great, the lights dim with colored spots highlighting the tables. I’d arranged for centerpieces, and they’d been delivered during the day. I strolled over to inspect the bouquets of Flo’s favorite red roses decorated with party favors of lipsticks and nail polishes in all the colors my friend loved.

“Nice arrangements.”

“Rafe!” I turned and sighed when I saw him. No loincloth for him. He was elegant in a tux and white satin shirt. Not a button or stud held that shirt closed, exposing his very fine tanned chest down to where the shirt was tucked into slim black tux pants. Yum. I knew it was a bad idea but couldn’t resist moving in to kiss his smile.

“Your club looks fantastic.”

He hauled me against him. “Thanks. I’m proud of what we’ve done in such a short time.” He slid his hand down to cup my bottom. “Like the costume. Seductress. Who are you, exactly?”

“I’m a woman I knew during my gold rush days in California. She could have any man she wanted. Sang in the saloons and couldn’t carry a tune.” I smiled and ran a finger down that delicious band of bare chest. Not wise. Didn’t care. I was into my seductress role, and Alesa egged me on. “No one noticed. She’d flash lots of cleavage and some leg, and guys fell at her feet.”

“Sounds like someone I know.” He grinned, then backed up. “You dumped me. Quit teasing.” He looked me over and frowned. “That dress was any lower, you’d be showing nipple.”

“So?” I swished my red silk skirt. “How do you like my garter?” I was playing a dangerous game but couldn’t seem to give a damn. Seductress. I’d never been one, but a girl could dream.

“Hey, together we can get any man we want. Go for it, girlfriend.” Alesa had a point. I’d noticed she was getting more powerful and harder to resist.

I put my foot on a chair and slid my skirt up to show Rafe the red and black garter high on my thigh. I didn’t need it to hold up my black fishnet panty hose. But what made him swallow was the fact that I hadn’t worn panties under those hose.

Rafe had his warm hand on my leg before I could have a second thought. “What’s gotten into you tonight? You said you’re going back to Blade. Tomorrow night. What is this? An invitation for a farewell—”

I put my hand on his mouth. “No. Forget it. I’m obviously out of my mind. But I can’t stand the idea of never being with you again either.” I sighed when he moved between my legs, shielding me if one of the waiters came by. “I’m going crazy, Rafe. Alesa’s gigging me with hard, pointy objects whenever I try to think.”

“I’m starting to like her. And I wouldn’t mind gigging you with something hard myself right now.” Rafe bent his head to tease my lips open, barely tracing them with his tongue. His fingers were doing the same, tracking along an erotic path where the seam of those hose hugged the damp crease between my legs.

I sighed into his mouth. “I . . . can’t, Rafe. You know why.”

“Sure you can.” He pulled me toward his office, making me stumble as my leg fell off the chair. “We’ve got a few minutes, and we’ve proved we can have a lot of fun in a few minutes. I’ll take a farewell quickie.”

I balked at the door. “No. This isn’t fair to you.”

“Screw fair.” Rafe grinned. “No, screw me instead.” He coaxed me inside and shut the door. Before I could stop him, he had me against it, kissing me like there was no tomorrow. Wait. There was no tomorrow. Not for us. I shoved, and he lifted his head, giving me a look that promised endless pleasure. This whole scene was so on Alesa. I had to figure out how to get rid of her. Fast.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe. This is not happening. Now I’ve got to go. My guests will be here soon.” I jerked open the door and made my escape. I couldn’t look back. Didn’t want to know what he was thinking. Stupid costume. And damned stupid demon. A wave of heat hit me, and I gasped. “That’s a cheap shot, Hell Girl,” I muttered and headed to the bar for a glass of ice. “Heat me all you want. Set my hair on fire. I don’t give a damn. I’m not playing with any more men. Tonight’s about Flo.”

“This is the most amazing party ever.” Aggie was a Siren, of course. The ultimate seductress. She’d left the fish tail at home, not good on dry land. Her tiny top was made of mother of pearl, and her blond hair flowed to her waist. Her low-riding mini was made of more mother of pearl scales. The tiny starfish nestled in her hair were actually alive. Sort of an ick, but cute too when they waved at you.

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