by Lynsay Sands
Greg was whistling in the bathroom as Lissianna reentered the bedroom, but there was no sound of running water. She tapped on the door. “Greg?”
The whistling died. “Yeah?”
“I guess we’re out of toothbrushes right now, I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay.” There was a hesitation, then, “Would you mind if I use yours? It’s not like we haven’t swapped spit or anything.”
Lissianna was staring blankly at the bathroom door, a little thrown by the swapped spit phrase, when Greg pulled the door open and peered at her.
“That was another joke, Lissianna,” he said, then amended himself. “Well, not that we haven’t swapped spit, but calling it that is the joke part.”
“Oh yes,” Lissianna murmured, though she’d hardly heard him, her attention was focused on his chest. She’d thought the lack of running water had meant he hadn’t showered yet, but he’d obviously done so while she was downstairs. His hair was damp and he was standing there with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Dear God, the man was gorgeous.
“Is that ‘oh yes’ I can use your toothbrush or ‘oh yes’ we swapped spit?” he asked. When Lissianna raised a blank gaze to him, he tilted his head, and said, “You really aren’t a morning person, are you?”
Lissianna closed her eyes and turned away while she still had a brain cell left in her head. They all seemed to be traveling south. And she’d thought it was only men who had that problem.
“You don’t happen to have a razor I can use, too, do you?” Greg asked.
“Yes.” Pausing, Lissianna turned back and moved past him to get it out of the bathroom drawer.
“Thanks,” Greg said as he accepted it.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any shaving cream,” she said apologetically.
“I’ll make do with soap lather,” he said with a shrug, then caught her arm as she moved to leave the bathroom again. “You were going to dry your hair, weren’t you?” He gestured to the hair dryer lying on the bathroom counter to explain how he knew.
“Oh, yes.” She’d just gotten it out when she’d realized that Greg was still tied up.
“Well I’m just shaving and stuff right now. You can share the mirror, if you like. The vanity space is large enough for both of us.”
Lissianna hesitated, shy at the idea of sharing bathroom space with him, then realized she was being silly and nodded.
“Good.” Greg turned to the counter and staked out the sink on the right.
Not half an hour ago the bathroom had seemed a large and spacious room. There was plenty of floor space, a huge tub, a toilet, clothes hamper, and a counter that ran the length of one entire wall with two sinks in it and a mirror overhead. But once Lissianna was in there with Greg it seemed incredibly small, and at first she was clumsy and uncomfortable as she found her hairbrush, took the hair dryer, unraveled the cord and plugged it in, all while being extra careful not to bump Greg or get too close.
For his part, Greg didn’t seem to notice the shrinking size of the room. As far as she could tell, he hardly seemed aware of her presence as he concentrated on making lather from the bar of soap. Giving herself a mental shake for acting so juvenile, Lissianna turned on the dryer and went to work on her hair, doing her best not to stare at his chest in the mirror as she did.
Lissianna didn’t do much styling with her hair. It was naturally wavy and looked fine as it was. She only bothered to dry it when she was going out into the cold as she planned to do today, so it didn’t take her long to blow the worst of the dampness out of it. Once it was mostly dry, she turned off the dryer and began to rewind the cord.
“You have a reflection.”
Lissianna paused and met his gaze in the mirror. “Yes.”
“According to all the stories, vampires don’t have reflections,” he pointed out. “I guess that’s something else they got wrong.”
“Oh, yes.” She nodded and went back to winding the cord.
“I was going to ask you.” Greg glanced at her. “Thomas said your father had a problem with alcohol. So, I guess you guys can drink liquids other than blood?”
“Yes we can, but he didn’t drink that way.”
“Really?” His eyes were curious as they met hers in the mirror. “Then how did your father—”
“Blood,” she answered before he could finish the question. “Blood donated by alcoholics on a binge.”
Greg frowned with disbelief. “Most blood banks don’t take donations from people on substances…I don’t think.”
“No, but we have our own blood banks,” Lissianna informed him. “It’s a legitimate blood bank, servicing hospitals and clinics as well as our people.”
“And they accept blood from drunks?”
She shrugged. “Yes, it’s called Wino Reds, but it never goes to the hospitals or mortal organizations. It’s strictly for consumption by our kind.”
Greg considered that, then asked, “What about people on substances? Do they take their blood, too?”
Lissianna nodded. “We have a whole range of varieties; High Times, Sweet Ecstasy, Sweet Tooth.”
“High Times? That has to be people with high levels of THC in their system. Sweet Ecstasy would be blood from people on ecstasy. What is—?”
“Enough questions, it’s my turn,” Lissianna interrupted. She had some questions of her own, and said so. “I answered a ton of questions for you earlier. It’s your turn.”
“Okay. That’s fair. What do you want to know?” Greg said easily, and drew the razor down his cheek.
Everything, Lissianna thought, but said, “Well, I’m guessing you aren’t married or it would have been more of a problem for Mother to hijack your vacation—I’m sorry about that by the way.”
Before she could become too troubled that he wasn’t on his way to Cancún, Greg said, “Don’t be, she saved me a long wait at the airport for nothing. The flight was canceled, but I gather not until after keeping the passengers all standing around in the airport for three hours.”
“Really?” she asked with surprise.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
She smiled faintly at his good humor. “Why aren’t you angry? Doesn’t it freak you out at all?”
Greg paused in his shaving and admitted, “Well, I was pretty angry at first. I mean, being kidnapped twice in twenty-four hours, then finding out your captors are vampires can be a bit much.”
Lissianna was pretty sure that could be considered a stressful day by anyone’s standards.
“But then…” He hesitated, then said, “Thomas was wearing Spider-Man PJs.”
She blinked in confusion at his words, and he laughed. “I know that sounds weird, but it’s hard to be scared or even angry at a guy in Spider-Man pajamas,” Greg said helplessly. “Or you gals in your baby dolls for that matter, so I don’t feel threatened. And then, your family kind of reminds me of my own.”
Lissianna raised her eyebrows, finding it hard to believe his family could be anything like her own.
“Even Marguerite,” he added. “My mom is the head of the family, too. She was widowed when we were little, and she ruled the roost. Like your own mother, she’d go a long way to protect or help one of her children. It’s obvious there’s a lot of love here and…well…you have to admit, it’s pretty interesting. Fascinating even.”
Lissianna wasn’t sure about the fascinating part, but then she’d grown up as she was and with her family around her. It was all pretty normal and commonplace to her, so she said, “Do you have a large family then?”
“Not really. At least, I don’t think so. I mean, no one’s had ten or twelve kids or anything. Three seems to be the average, and most of them are female,” he added with a grimace. “Of my mother’s three sisters, only one is still with her husband. One’s divorced and one is widowed like my mom. I have two sisters, about eight female cousins and one male cousin. Us guys are a minority.”
“What about your father’s side?”
Lissianna frowned. “I thought your mother was widowed?”
“He died before they could divorce,” Greg explained. “He and his girlfriend were killed just a week after they ran off. The secretary’s husband crashed into the car they were in.” Greg smiled wryly. “Mother tried not to be too smug about it, but she did quote the old saw ‘you reap what you sow.’”
Lissianna bit her lip to keep back her smile, and asked, “Why did you become a psychologist?”
“Why?” He blew his breath out. “I guess I like to help people. There’s no greater satisfaction than knowing you’ve helped someone get over something and made his or her life a little easier.”
Lissianna felt admiration well up in her. “That’s—”
“Before you say something nice, you should remember I also get paid to help them.”
She laughed and shook her head, knowing he was being modest and probably uncomfortable at appearing too noble. “You could make just as much money at several other jobs and not be helping people.”
Greg shrugged and turned back to the mirror. “Why aren’t you married?”
Lissianna blinked at the question, opened her mouth to answer, then paused and narrowed her eyes as she recalled she was supposed to be asking questions now. Rather than remind him of that, she simply asked, “Why aren’t you?”
His gaze met hers in the mirror, and she almost expected him to argue that he’d asked first, but then he answered, “I almost was.”
Lissianna arched an eyebrow. “Almost?”
Greg nodded, his attention on shaving as he said, “Meredith. I met her the first week of the first year of university. I rescued her from an abusive boyfriend outside the university pub. We hit it off and started dating.” He shrugged. “We dated for two years, and everyone started expecting we’d marry, so I proposed and everyone started going crazy making wedding arrangements.”
“What happened?” Lissianna asked curiously.
Greg sighed and peered down into the sink as he rinsed the razor. “The closer the wedding got, the more anxious I got about the whole thing. Everyone kept saying it was just cold feet, so I kept letting it go; but about a month before the wedding my psychology professor said I seemed off and asked me what was wrong.” He paused to explain, “The wedding was set to take place the week after end of term.
“Anyway,” Greg continued, “he asked, and I blurted everything out. I don’t think I made much sense. He took me down to the break room, gave me a coffee, and got me talking. We were there forever, but by the time I left, I knew I couldn’t marry Meredith. The next day I broke it to her, then changed my major to psychology.”
Lissianna’s eyes widened. “You weren’t a psychology major at the time?”
Greg grinned and shook his head. “Journalism, and while I liked it well enough, as far as I was concerned, that professor saved me a lot of grief. I wanted to do that for others.”
Lissianna considered what he’d said, then considered what he hadn’t said and asked, “From one talk with him you were able to see that Meredith wasn’t right for you?”
“Not exactly. That one talk made me look at the things that had been bothering me for months, the reasons behind why I was getting anxious about the wedding.”
“Which was?”
He grimaced, then blew a breath out, and said, “She was too dependent.”
Lissianna waited patiently for him to explain.
“I told you I met her by rescuing her from an abusive boyfriend, but after that I was constantly rescuing her. Not from anything major like that again, but she was always coming to me with little problems and expecting me to solve them. She wanted someone to take care of her. She even admitted she wasn’t at university to get an education but to find a husband. She wanted to be a housewife and raise babies. I started having nightmares about drowning and…”
Greg shook his head. “I suppose that sounds odd, since I just said I wanted to help people like my psychology professor had helped me.”
“Maybe a little. It is what you do, after all, help people with their problems.”
“Ah, but that’s the key, I help them with their problems. They do all the hard work, I just guide them and help them work things out. Meredith wanted to be taken care of. She wanted the problems solved for her. It’s like the difference between shipping a boatload of bottled water to a drought-stricken area, and sending them some water, plus the equipment and know-how to dig wells and irrigate and so on. If you send them water, they’ll just need more later, send them some water and the know-how and equipment, and they have the water to get them through until they can put the equipment and know-how to use it to take care of their own needs.
“My patients are looking for the equipment and know-how to be independent…like you want to be. Meredith just wanted the water…over and over again. She reveled in her dependency. She flat out said she needed me. She wouldn’t even admit to having an opinion about small things like which restaurant to go to when we went out. Every decision was mine.”
Greg shook his head. “Some men would like that, but it wasn’t what I wanted in a wife. For me, marriage should be about partnership. How can you love someone you have to take care of like a child all the time? A wife is supposed to be a partner, and yes partners help each other when they need it, but they are supposed to be together because they want to in my book, not because one needs the other. With Meredith, I would always have had to be stronger and carry the burden. I wanted—”
“An equal,” Lissianna finished for him.
“Yes.” Greg met her gaze in the mirror, then shook his head and marveled. “This is all truly strange. I keep forgetting what you are.”
Lissianna stilled. “Does it matter?”
“Yes and no,” he admitted. “It doesn’t seem to affect the way I see you, or I wouldn’t keep forgetting it’s what you are. On the other hand, it’s like meeting a rock star or something. I mean, how many guys can say they know real live vampires?”
“The question is, how many live to repeat it.”
Lissianna and Greg turned sharply at that dry remark to find Mirabeau—dressed and ready to go—in the doorway.
“Here you are!” Jeanne Louise appeared behind her and beamed a smile at them. “We brought clothes. Mirabeau and Elspeth helped. Come on out and have a look.”
“We weren’t sure what you’d want to wear, Greg,” Elspeth said, straightening from setting a stack of clothes on the bed beside two others. “So we brought a whole selection.”
Lissianna led Greg to the bed to look at the clothes. They had brought quite a selection. Greg had his choice of jeans and T-shirts, suits, or dress pants and sweaters. There was also a bundle of undershirts, boxers, and jockey shorts. He looked over the collection, then chose a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and turned away.
“Thank you, ladies,” he said as he disappeared back into the bathroom to dress.
Elspeth glanced at Jeanne Louise and shrugged. “I guess we both lose the bet.”
“What bet?” Thomas asked, entering the room.
“Boxers or briefs,” Jeanne Louise answered. “I was betting boxers. Elspeth thought briefs. Instead he went commando.”
“Perhaps he just didn’t want to use someone else’s underwear,” Lissianna suggested, but her mind was now fixed on the fact that Greg was going commando.
“It’s cold out,” Elspeth commented. “I hope he doesn’t get a chill.”
They fell silent as the bathroom door opened and Greg stepped out. “The jeans are a bit tight, but should do.”
Lissianna’s gaze slid over the jeans and T-shirt he’d selected from the pile on the bed. The clothes fit him like a glove, and the man looked as sexy as hell.
“You look fine,” Elspeth assured him.
“Good, then we can go. I’m absolutely starved.”
“Hmm. I’m feeling a little peckish, myself,” Mirabeau mu
rmured, and Lissianna stopped ogling Greg to turn on her friend with shock. Mirabeau only grinned and moved toward the door, murmuring, “My, my. Someone’s protective of the little mortal, aren’t they?”
The words had been a bare whisper, and Greg couldn’t possibly have heard, but Lissianna felt herself blush as her cousins turned to eye her with amusement. Their hearing was as good as hers and they had, of course, heard the teasing comment.
“Are you sure we should do this? I don’t think Mother and Aunt Marguerite are going to be too happy about our taking him out,” Elspeth suggested.
“Then they should have thought to pick up some food for him,” Lissianna said grimly. “Besides, they’ll never know we went. We’ll be back long before they’re awake.”
Chapter 11
“She’s up!”
Everyone in the van jumped as Vicki screeched those words, including Thomas, who was startled into slamming on the brakes, sending them all jerking in their seats.
“Geez,” Lissianna muttered, grateful for the seat belt she wore.
“Vicki, love,” Thomas called out with false cheer as he finished parking. “If you ever do that again while I’m driving, I’ll ring your scrawny little neck.”
“Sorry, Thomas.” The girl didn’t sound very apologetic. “I was just startled to see Aunt Marguerite waiting for us. I mean, Lissianna figured we’d be back before everyone else was awake, but Aunt Marguerite’s up.”
“And boy does she look mad,” Juli commented.
Lissianna had to agree. Her mother did indeed look mad, standing in the open door between the house and garage. In fact, she looked just as mad today as she had yesterday, despite the fact that she must see Greg was there in the van with them.
He was in the front passenger seat again at Thomas’s instruction. The boys, he insisted, should ride up front. A totally sexist decision as Juli had complained, but Lissianna hadn’t minded, it told her that Thomas liked the other man. For some reason that pleased her.
