by Lynsay Sands
He was here to treat a phobia. Frankly, Greg thought the whole family needed treatment…and not for phobias, but so be it. They wanted him to treat a phobia, and he wanted to be set loose. Surely there was some bargain he could strike? He’d agree to treat the lovely Lissianna and promise not to report them to the authorities if they cut him loose. Then he’d head straight to the police station.
Or not.
Greg was a little confused on the issue of what he wanted to do at the moment. Part of him was angry and willing to go to the police with the information that he’d been held against his will and so on, but in truth, were Lissianna to slip back into the room and kiss and caress him as she’d been doing, he thought he might forget a lot of his anger. Greg suspected most of it was plain old sexual frustration anyway. Without the frustration, he’d mostly just be confused by the night’s events. Besides, he couldn’t go to the police. What could he tell them?
“Hi, my name is Dr. Hewitt and tonight I climbed into a strange trunk of my own free will, locked myself in for the ride to a strange house, then climbed out and willingly entered said premises, going so far as to walk upstairs and lay down to be tied to the bed. But geez, they didn’t untie me when I asked and now I want them charged.”
Oh yeah, that would go over well, Greg thought dryly. He’d be laughed out of the police station. Besides, he didn’t really want to get these people in trouble. Well, at least he didn’t want to get Lissianna in trouble.
Greg licked his lips as he recalled the feel and taste of her. She’d felt so good cuddled against him, and she’d made these erotic little murmurs of pleasure as they’d kissed. If his hands hadn’t been tied, he would have rolled her beneath him, stripped her of every scrap of clothing she wore, and used his hands and mouth on her body to elicit more of those little murmurs.
Her skin was a pale and ivory, and Greg had no trouble imagining her alabaster body stretching and arching on the bed as he closed his mouth over one erect nipple and swept his hand down over her ribs, then across her flat stomach to dip it between her legs and find her damp sweetness. She’d be hot to his touch and responsive and after he’d made her cry out with release a time or two, he’d rise up over her and drive—
Greg groaned aloud in frustration and brought his imaginings to an abrupt end as he felt the complaining ache in his groin. Okay, that had been a stupid move. Now, he was more frustrated than ever.
Sighing, he lifted his head to peer toward the closed door, wondering when Lissianna would come back, or if she would. He’d deduced that he must be in her room, or she wouldn’t have been fetching stockings out of it. So, she’d have to return eventually. Perhaps after the party, Greg thought as he noted the muffled sound of music coming from below. The party was obviously under way. Lissianna’s birthday party, he remembered, and wondered how old she was. He would have guessed her to be about twenty-five or twenty-six. A good ten years younger than he. Would the age difference bother her? That thought was troubling. She might think he was too old for her and not repeat tonight’s kisses.
Realizing where his thoughts were going, Greg gave himself another mental head shake. What was he thinking? He was tied to a bed and being held against his will. He’d asked to be untied, but no one had listened. Yet here he lay, his mind consumed with nothing but the beautiful, blond Lissianna.
“You need to get your priorities straight,” he told himself firmly. “How about trying to get yourself loose and out of here? You have a plane to catch in the morning, you know.”
Ignoring the fact that he was again talking to himself, Greg tipped his head back to peer at the bindings that went from his wrists to the bed posts.
Chapter 4
“Oh Lordy, Lordy. I’ve stepped into baby doll heaven.”
Lissianna chuckled at Thomas’s comical expression as he entered the living room, where they were having their impromptu postbirthday party “pajama party.” Not one to drive after drinking, Thomas had decided to sleep here, which meant Lissianna, Jeanne Louise, and Mirabeau were staying as well. With the bedrooms taken up by various older relatives staying the day, they had been relegated to the couches in the bigger living room…along with cousin Elspeth and her twin sisters Victoria and Julianna. The three girls had flown over from England with their mother Martine to attend the party and planned to visit for a couple weeks.
“Thomas!” Jeanne gasped suddenly. “What on earth are you wearing?”
“What? This?” Thomas held out his arms and did a slow turn. He was covered from neck to ankles in a pair of formfitting Spider-Man pajamas. “Bastien was good enough to supply this most cool sleepwear for me,” he drawled. “Don’t you like it? The guy has radical taste in sleepwear for a grumpy old dude.”
“They’re not Bastien’s.” Lissianna chuckled. “They were a joke gift for Etienne when he was helping to program a video game based on some comic book or other.”
“I didn’t know that, did I?” Thomas said with a grin. “Bastien was most embarrassed at my effusive compliments on his most ‘cool choice’ of sleepwear.”
Lissianna shared a grin with him, imagining how Bastien must have reacted when he realized how his little attempt to embarrass Thomas had backfired. He’d be mortified to think that anyone might believe he wore pajamas like these to bed.
“Anyway, I don’t mind. They are comfortable,” Thomas commented, then perched his hands on his hips to eye the rest of them, and said gallantly, “As for you ladies, you’re like a rainbow of lovely flowers.”
Lissianna glanced down at herself, then at the other women in their nighties. While Jeanne Louise and Mirabeau didn’t have any clothes at Lissianna’s mother’s house, Lissianna did, just not pajamas. She tended to sleep in the nude. The three of them were wearing sleepwear borrowed from Elspeth and the twins. The trio apparently had a thing for baby dolls, it was all they’d had to loan them.
Still, Thomas’s description was apt. She was wearing a light pink lace baby doll, Elspeth was in red, Victoria in peach, Mirabeau in mint green, Julianna in baby blue, and Jeanne Louise wore lavender. Put them together and they did nearly make a rainbow.
“So?” Thomas launched himself onto the cot that had been rolled in for him. Scrunching his pillow into a solid ball he could lean on, he eyed them all with interest. “What happens at pajama parties?”
The girls all laughed at his eager expression as they began to stake out their own spots, two girls to each of the three pull-out couches in the room. Within moments they were settled and peering at each other.
“Don’t look at me,” Mirabeau said when Thomas glanced her way. “I’m over four hundred years old; they didn’t even have pajama parties when I was a girl. I’m not sure they even had pajamas. I don’t know what happens.”
Lissianna chuckled, and said with disgust, “Over two hundred years old and still considered a child.”
“We always will be to Mother and Aunt Marguerite,” Elspeth said calmly. “I guess it’s relative. We are children compared to them.”
“But ancient compared to mortals,” Lissianna pointed out unhappily. She was feeling her two hundred and two years. Birthdays could be such a bummer when you were older than the country you lived in. Canada became a country in 1867, by that time, Lissianna was already sixty-nine years old; old for a mortal, but not for a vampire as most mortals would call them. It wasn’t a term her kind cared for. Vampires were thought to be soulless creatures with an aversion to garlic, holy water, and sunlight. As far as she knew, her people were no more soulless than the average person. As for the three supposed weapons used to fight off vampires, neither garlic nor holy water would hurt them. Sunlight was another matter, they wouldn’t burst into flames if they stepped out into it, but it did make life easier to avoid it. Really, the only thing society had right about vampires was their longevity, strength, and the ability to read and control minds…oh, and they did need to feed off blood.
“You guys may be old, but we aren’t,” Julianna piped up, and her twin
sister Victoria nodded. “Yeah.”
Lissianna forced a smile for the twins. They were only seventeen years old, making them the babies in the group, she thought, then realized that Elspeth was right. Everything was relative.
“So,” she said, determined to stay cheerful. “You two are young enough to know. What happens at pajama parties?”
“Fun stuff,” Victoria grinned widely. “You eat lots of good bad stuff like pizza and chocolate and chips.”
Lissianna smiled indulgently. The twins were young enough that food still held more attraction for them than it did for her and the others.
“And you tell scary stories and talk about boys,” Julianna informed them.
“Hmmm,” Thomas sounded dubious. “You can skip the talking about boys stuff, unless it’s me you want to talk about. And I’m stuffed to the gills, no need for pizza.”
Lissianna didn’t doubt him. Her mother had ordered in a ton of bagged blood, as well as normal food for the party, and she’d watched in amazement as the mountains of food and drink had been laid waste. From what she’d heard, the amount of bagged blood they’d gone through was just as staggering. Apparently the supply had nearly been wiped out. Lissianna had actually heard her mother ask Bastien to have more blood sent to the house for breakfast the next day.
“So that leaves scary stories,” Mirabeau commented. She paused for a moment, during which no one offered to tell the first tale, then glanced at Lissianna, and asked curiously, “What was it your mother drove into Toronto to get you for your birthday? I missed seeing you open her gift.”
“Yes, what was it?” Jeanne Louise asked curiously. “I didn’t see it either.”
“Yes, you did see him, Jeanne Louise,” Thomas countered with amusement, bringing a confused frown to his sister’s face.
“No, I didn’t,” she insisted. “I—” She paused as his words sank in. “Him? You mean she gave Lissi a person? A man?” Her eyes widened suddenly, and her mouth made an “O,” then she exclaimed, “That guy in her bedroom? He was her gift?”
“What guy?” Mirabeau looked startled. “Marguerite gave you a guy?”
Lissianna gave Thomas a dirty look as the women began exclaiming in amazement. Their reaction was exactly what he’d hoped for, of course.
“It isn’t how it sounds,” she said in calming tones. “He’s a doctor. She brought him to treat my hemaphobia.”
“Yeah,” Thomas assured them. “And the fact that Lissianna was rolling all over him on the bed was just an accident. She didn’t know he was her therapist then.”
“Thomas!” Lissianna shrieked, as the other women began exclaiming and shouting questions anew. Shaking her head with disgust, she turned to the women and quickly gave an edited version of her meeting with Greg Hewitt. Once finished, she sat back and waited for their reactions.
Mirabeau was the first to speak, asking, “So, will he treat your phobia?”
Lissianna hesitated, then admitted, “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” Elspeth asked with amazement.
“Well, apparently he was supposed to be going on vacation tomorrow. And then there’s the little matter of Mother’s kidnapping him,” she added, with a roll of her eyes over her mother’s antics.
“It maybe would have been better had she made you an appointment with him,” Jeanne Louise commented.
“Yes. That’s what he said, too,” Lissianna admitted wryly.
“So, can we see him?” Elspeth asked, and Lissi turned on her with surprise.
“What? Why?”
“We’ve seen all your other gifts,” she said, as if it were completely reasonable.
“I definitely want to see him,” Mirabeau announced.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing him myself,” Jeanne Louise said.
“You already saw him,” Lissianna protested.
“Yes, but only a glimpse really, and I didn’t know he was your gift then.”
“What difference does that make?” she asked with exasperation, but Jeanne Louise just shrugged. Shaking her head, Lissianna said, “We can’t just go traipsing up there. It’s dawn. He’s probably sleeping.”
“That’s okay; we only want to get a look at him. He doesn’t have to speak to us,” Mirabeau announced, getting to her feet.
Lissianna gaped as her cousins all hurried to follow suit. When they started determinedly for the door, she scooted off the bed herself, saying, “Oh, all right, but we mustn’t wake him up.”
The blackout curtains on her windows were drawn, leaving the room in inky darkness when Lissianna and the others entered. Still, she turned with a hiss of irritation when the light was flicked on.
“We came up to see him, Lissi,” Mirabeau pointed out. “It helps if there’s light.”
Lissianna let her irritation drop away at the reasonable words and turned to move cautiously up to the bed. She was relieved to note that the light hadn’t woken him, though it did make him stir sleepily, she saw, as the group spread out around the bed.
“Wow,” Elspeth breathed, peering down on the sleeping man.
“He’s cute,” Julianna sounded surprised.
“Totally,” Victoria agreed.
“Yeah,” Mirabeau said. “For some reason I thought all psychologists looked like Freud, but he’s a babe.”
Julianna and Victoria both burst into giggles at this pronouncement and Lissianna shushed the pair, then glanced back to Greg in time to see Mirabeau lifting the edge of his suit jacket. Her eyes widened incredulously. “What are you doing?”
“Well, he isn’t wearing fake tan,” the other woman said calmly. “I just thought I’d see if his jacket was padded.”
“It isn’t,” Lissianna informed her grimly. “Those are his shoulders.”
“How—? Oh, right. You were kissing him and stuff.” Jeanne Louise grinned.
“Yeah, and from his reaction to her kisses and stuff, we also learned the man isn’t sporting a cucumber either,” Thomas announced, making Lissianna groan with embarrassment as she recalled the erection that had been very much in evidence when her mother and Thomas had entered earlier…and how it had deflated. She really didn’t want to explain his comment to the others, but could tell by their expressions that an explanation would be demanded and decided right then that Thomas was no longer her favorite cousin.
Greg was generally a deep sleeper, but with light plucking at his eyes and whispering going on around him, he found it difficult to remain buried in the warm comfort of sleep’s arms and felt himself reluctantly dragged toward consciousness. When he finally gave in and allowed his eyes to drift open, he found himself staring blearily at six gorgeous women standing around his bed in the sexiest damn baby dolls he’d ever laid eyes on. His first thought was that he must still be dreaming…and a sweet dream it was, too, he decided, taking in the bountiful flesh revealed by the skimpy nightwear…until his gaze finally landed on the seventh person standing by his bedside.
“Spider-Man?” he murmured with confusion.
“Dammit! See, now you’ve woken him up.”
Greg’s gaze slid to the speaker, and he smiled faintly as he recognized Lissianna. It wasn’t the least bit surprising that she should feature in his dreams. His last thoughts before drifting off to sleep had been about the things he’d like to do with her. The woman was turning him into a mass of sexual frustration. The worst part was, she wasn’t even trying to do so. He was managing it all on his own, with his own imaginings.
“You’d best not let Aunt Marguerite hear you talk like that, Lissi,” Spider-Man taunted. “She’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”
“Oh stuff it, Thomas. I’m too old for that,” she said grimly, then turned and bent slightly to address Greg. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to wake you.”
He smiled benignly, and said, “It’s okay. You can step into my dreams anytime.”
“Oh, isn’t that sweet. He thinks he’s dreaming us,” a woman in a lavender baby doll said with a smile.
Greg lifted his head and peered down at the erection he was sporting.
“Definitely a wet dream,” a pretty brunette in red pronounced solemnly.
“Maybe we should check and make sure it isn’t a cucumber.” An auburn-haired young woman in a blue baby doll made the suggestion and turned to share a wicked smile with another girl who was her mirror image. The second one—dressed in peach—nodded, and said, “Oh yeah.”
Greg blinked in surprise as he realized the pair were young, teenagers, he’d guess, and was almost horrified to note how well they filled out their baby dolls. When had teenagers started looking so un-teenager-like, he wondered with distress.
“Oh, cut it out,” Lissianna snapped, then turned her gaze to him. “You’re not dreaming. We’re really here. And I’m sorry we woke you, but the girls wanted…”
“We wanted to see her birthday gifts,” the woman with fuchsia-tipped hair finished when she hesitated. “Which includes you.”
“Yes. We’d seen all her other gifts,” the girl in blue explained. “So it was only fair we see you too, you understand?”
“We’re Lissianna’s cousins,” the brunette in red informed him.
“Well, all of us but Mirabeau,” the girl in lavender corrected, and Greg found himself staring at her. She looked vaguely familiar, but it took a moment for his mind to place her, then he recalled her coming to the door earlier to inform Lissianna, her mother and a man named Thomas that someone had arrived.
