Just One Bite (10 page)

My heart started to pound as my gaze shifted to the caller ID.

UNAVAILABLE
stared back and relief rushed through me. Like all born vamps, my mother kept up with the times, changing and blending. At least when it came to clothes and shoes and kick-ass hairstyles. What she hadn’t kept up with were the advances in technology. Namely, she still didn’t know how to work her answering machine and she’d yet to figure out how to set up voice mail on her cell. Punching in a code to hide her phone number was completely out of the question.

I picked up the phone. “Thank you for calling Dead End Dating, where love is always in the air.” Along with a few other things, courtesy of Earl Hubert Stanley. “This is Lil. What can I do for you?”

“You can overnight me an extra-large bottle of valium. I can’t get any here, at least not legally, and I haven’t worked up my nerve to try the street version. A few more days in
paradise,
however, and I just might change my mind.”

“Who is this?”

“Mrs. Jack Bertrand Pierre Phillipe du Marchette.” Translation, Dr. Mandy Dupree, the human forensic pathologist who’d married my brother Jack in a beautiful moonlit ceremony at the Waldorf Astoria.

I’d been the maid of honor, much to my mother’s horror, and my brother Max had been best man. My mother had written Max’s decision off as the usual boys-will-be-boys, while mine had rated my-traitorous-daughter-is-driving-a-stake-through-my-heart. (Have I mentioned that in addition to being the CEO of Guilt, Inc., my mother was president of Double Standards?)

“Boy,” Mandy went on, “I never realized that would be such a mouthful. It’s a good thing I didn’t hyphenate. Then again, that’s the least of my problems right now.”

If my brother had boffed one of the cabana girls or nailed the night maid, I was
so
going to fly down to Rio and kick his ass myself. “What did Jack do?”

“Nothing. He’s wonderful. The perfect man, er, I mean vampire.” Her voice trembled. “It’s Mother Marchette.”

“Mother who?”

“
Marchette.
She told me to call her Jacqueline, but that seems so disrespectful. My mother likes Mother Dupree, so I figured if it worked for mine, it would work for yours.”

“Uh, yeah.”
Not.
“What did she do?”

“She won’t stop calling. The first time, we figured she just wanted to see if we’d made the flight okay. That was two and a half weeks ago. She’s called every day since.”

“But she said she hadn’t talked to Jack.”

“She hasn’t. We’ve been taking the phone off the hook, so she’s been calling the front desk. She’s talked to everyone in the hotel. She’s also bribed them, so we aren’t getting a moment’s peace. Concierge is constantly checking on us. Maid service shows up unannounced. Room service is forever bringing wine or champagne or
something.
Even the hotel manager pays us a nightly visit. We’ve complained and threatened to switch hotels, but it’s the busy season here and there isn’t another decent suite available at any of the other resorts. Besides, your mother would just do the same thing if we switched hotels. You know, Lil”—worry crept into her voice—“I’m starting to think that she’s not all that thrilled with the marriage.”

Ya think?

“Nonsense,” I heard myself say. “You’re a wonderful woman. Any born vampire would be lucky to have you for a daughter-in-law.”

“That’s what you think. But what about your mother?”

“Does it really matter what some pompous, closed-minded, irrational third party with decent taste in shoes thinks or does? You’re happy and Jack’s happy. That’s what’s important. The two of you
are
happy, right?”

“Extremely.”

“Then forget about my mother.”

“That’s a little hard to do when you have the
policia
walking in on you while you’re buck naked and bent over a hibiscus plant.”

I was
not
going to ask.

“Apparently, your mother knows every vampire in the free world over the age of five hundred,” Mandy went on. “General Guerrero, the chief here, used to be General Genoise about eight hundred years ago. He and your mother are old,
old
friends and he was more than happy to check up on us for her. He even brought a fruit basket.”

“That’s sweet.”

“The fruit basket was for me. He brought two hookers for Jack.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You and me both. The fruit we could toss, the hookers wanted to hang around and watch cable on account of they’d never actually seen a real television because they were from a really poor area of the city. Jack and I felt so bad for them that we even let them order pay-per-view.” A pleading note crept into her voice. “We only have three days left and we haven’t had so much as two solid hours without some sort of interruption. You have to help us.”

“What can I do?”

“Talk to Mother Marchette.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of another fruit basket. Maybe a nice bottle of wine.” Because talking to Jacqueline was useless. I’d found that out firsthand at the age of five, when I’d threatened to hold my breath until she agreed to let me go to Mass with Sister Wilhemina, my au pair at the time.

In other words…
get the fuck out.

“Jack would talk to her, but he feels bad enough avoiding her. He’s afraid he’ll buckle if he hears her voice and feels the guilt firsthand.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m begging you,” Mandy added. “You’re our last hope.”

Nuh, uh. Not happenin’ sistah.

“Please.”

“Okay,” I blurted. Come on, she said
please.

“Really?”

“Stop worrying and have fun. Drink a few margaritas for me and tell Jack he owes me big time.”

“You’re the best sister-in-law in the entire universe.”

I smiled as I slid the phone into place.

Then the expression faded as I realized what I was going to have to do next.

“I’ve thought about it,” I heard myself say after I dialed my mom’s number and she picked up. “I’ll do it. I’ll go out with Remy. An official date.”

“You will?” She sounded surprised for about an eighth of a second. “But of course you will. How could you not? He’s absolutely perfect. Handsome. Wealthy. Well-endowed, at least according to his mother, who told me that his—”

“One date,” I cut in. “That’s all I’m agreeing to.”

“Right now. But once you see his—”

“One,”
I cut in, despite the sudden curiosity that bubbled through me. I couldn’t surrender completely to the dark side, otherwise she wouldn’t have to go to any trouble—
time-consuming
trouble—to convince me that Remy was the One. “We’ll talk, have a few drinks and see what happens.”

“Sex,” she concluded. Before I could protest, she rushed on. “I have to call Estelle. She’ll be so happy you’ve finally come to your senses. She’ll need to let her mother know, of course. And her grandmother. And her great, great grandmother. And her great, great, great grandmother. They’re all still in France and it’ll take a few weeks for them to make arrangements to fly over for the commitment ceremony, which we can easily do at the club in the next few weeks—”

“It’s just one date, Ma.” I slid the receiver into place, ignored the tiny tremor of panic in my gut (commitment ceremony, two weeks, tons of relatives), and focused on a surge of victory. “Am I a total genius or what?”

“I’m voting for number two.” The deep, familiar voice echoed in my ears.

I glanced up to find Ash Prince standing in my office doorway. He looked as hot and yummy as ever and my legs trembled.

But then I took one look at his face, serious and slightly homicidal, and my excitement drained into full-blown irritation.

Ten

“I
’ve already been through this with Ty,” I told Ash as he walked into my office, his two hunkalicious brothers right behind him. “I AM NOT possessed by a demon.”

I’d barely gotten the last words out when I found myself snatched out of my chair and shoved up against the nearest wall, my arms behind me.

A hard male body pressed up against my back. Mo or Zee, I wasn’t sure. I only knew Ash stood just to my right, his dark gaze drilling into me.

“Pat her down,” he told the man holding me.

A strong male hand plunged under my hair and felt its way down my neck, over my shoulders, down the length of each arm.

“I’m not,” I insisted. “Now let me go.” Hands slid around my rib cage and my heart started to pound. I became increasingly aware that I’d worn a silver lamé halter minus a bra or even pasties. My nipples pebbled. The air grew hot and thick and my throat went dry. I summoned my most threatening voice. “Don’t make me get all vampy on your ass.” Meanwhile my hormones chanted
lower, lower, lo-wer!

The hands quickly obliged. Fingers spanned my waist, played over my hips, my buttocks, my thighs…

Wait!
my hormones screamed as the strong, purposeful touching moved down toward my knees.
Come back!

“I mean it,” I warned again. “I’m getting pissed.”

“You’re lying.” Ash’s warm breath ruffled the hair near my right ear. “You were the last person to make contact with him. It
has
to be you.”

“Says you.” The hands reached my feet, which were clad in a pair of leather Casadei animal print peep-toe stilettos. Fingertips circled my ankles and grazed my arches, and I fought down the laughter that bubbled in my throat. “Stop.” A smile tugged at my lips. “Please.”

So I’m a vampire and I’m ticklish? Get over it.

“She’s clean,” a deep voice announced, the search-and-destroy over as quickly as it had started. “You want to go ahead and chop off her head now?”

What
?

I barely heard Ash’s voice through the sudden thunder of my own heart. “Let her go.”

I was free all of two seconds before Ash caught me from behind and whirled me around.

He loomed over me, his hunky brothers flanking him. “You can’t run,” he told me, his dark gaze firing a bright liquid gold. My tummy hollowed out.

“I have no intention of running,” I managed. “Or letting you cut my head off. Because I’m NOT the demon.”

“Then who is?” Ash asked.

I gave my hormones a great big mental bitch-slap and gathered my control. “Your brothers?” I arched an eyebrow. “If I recall,
they
were the last ones to make physical contact with Slimey. They dragged him back inside the church, remember?” I motioned to both men. “If I were you, I would seriously be considering these two.”

“It’s not them.”

“How do you know?” I eyeballed Mo and Zee. “They both look pretty demonic to me.” And pretty damned hot.

I gave the old hormones another great big slap.

“They can’t be possessed by a demon.”

“Why not?”

Because they’re demons themselves, dummy.

Ultra-hot, über-sexy demons with perfect, kissable lips and really great hands—
slap.

“You already know what we are,” Ash pointed out.

“True, but you never actually said it out loud.” Or whispered it in my ear. Or murmured it against my cleavage.

Slap. Slap.

“I need confirmation,” I went on. “So far, I’ve been assuming based on pure instinct. That and the fact that every woman within a mile radius starts panting like a dog in heat whenever you guys walk into a room.” Or thinking crazy thoughts like how good we would all look naked and rolling around on the floor together.

Slap. Slap. Slap!

He grinned and my insides quivered. “You
are
a demon, right?”

“You’re getting off the subject.”

“No I’m not. We’re talking about the big D. You’re one. And so are your bros, here.” I arched an eyebrow.
“Right?”
I pressed.

They both glanced at Ash, who continued to stare at me. “You know you’re not getting away,” he told me. “Not this time. We
will
catch you.”

And do wicked bad things to my body?

Okay, so obviously the mental slapping was doing more harm than good. My sadistic hormones were still racing ninety-to-nothing for Smutsville.

I gathered my self-control and fought against the sensations ripping through my body courtesy of not one, but three sexual dynamos—

My thoughts came to a staggering halt as a realization struck and Mia’s image popped into my head.

I smiled. I was definitely one hundred percent, certifiable
G-E-N-I-U-S.

“Gentlemen.” I pushed past all three men and motioned them into chairs. “Make yourselves comfortable and let’s talk.”

“We’d rather stand,” Ash declared, his gaze still suspicious.

“Suit yourself.” I perched on the corner of my desk and put on my most persuasive you-want-to-do-everything-I-want-you-to-do expression. “You know, guys, we’ve never really taken the time to get to know one another.” I zeroed in on Mo. “Tell me about yourself. Do you have a special talent? A hobby?” I glanced at Mia’s profile spread out across my desk and beamed. “Perhaps a knife or dangerous reptile fetish?”