When she was finally free of Jezebel’s grasp, she turned to Cate. Instantly, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. Sweeping her eyes over Cate’s drab wardrobe, she offered a reluctant hand. “My, you don’t look a thing like your portrait, Lady Larisa. Not that it’s a bad thing, of course. But you’re not what I was expecting.”
Cate swallowed a mouthful of air. Should she confess all to the Queen at this very instant? Her mom had always preached that honesty was best. She felt the strong urge to spill, but those camera lights were far too intense. Instead, she shrugged and limply grasped the Queen’s hand.
“My apologies,” she muttered with a fake laugh. “I’ll have to work on that for next time.”
The Queen frowned at her, doubt washing over her delicate features, and then turned to face her family. Cate mumbled into her own shoulder, her ears turning red. This was excruciating. No doubt, Miranda would be fired the instant they found out her connection to the impostor.
The horror of the thought sent chills through Cate’s spine. She didn’t want to get her friend fired. Not from her brand new, dream job. It would be better to keep cool for now. Keep quiet. At least for the present. Minimize the damage and hopefully save her friend’s job.
Cate looked up from her personal misery to find herself suddenly staring into a pair of intense amber eyes. Prince Viktor was gazing at her, his lips parted as if to say something. Something stirred deep within her gut, like a warm spark. Fighting off the unwelcome feeling, she returned his stare with as much intensity as she could muster.
He might be a prince, and a sexy one at that, but she was no mere woman who’d melt at his feet. She wasn’t going to be intimidated.
Not by the likes of him.
Chapter Four
MARCHING STRAIGHT INTO the dining room, Viktor didn’t leave room for pleasantries. He’d just had an awkward first dinner with all three of his suitors and a foul mood had settled over him. He threw his hands into the air and planted himself beside Stasia’s chair.
“Do you want to tell me what that was?”
She looked up at him and finished chewing the piece of steak in her mouth. “What?”
“That crazy mess.” He pointed out the door, his eyes widening. “That media circus. You promised me this was going to be simple. No drama. That was anything but simple.”
Laughter caught his attention. Maxim and Renata Pavlosky, Stasia’s nineteen-year-old twin werewolf siblings, were stuffing their faces with quail and watching his breakdown very intently. Thankfully, both were fully clothed at the moment, although werewolves tended to be comfortable shedding their clothes anywhere. Their parents were both gone at the moment; overseas for some werewolf outreach event in the middle of Africa. Which meant more trouble than usual from the pair.
Maxim had shaggy dishwater hair that fell into his eyes and a snarky smile. His sister, Renata, was just as sassy with her long blonde hair, electric blue streaks, and disapproving eye-roll. They stuck their heads together and whispered, pointing at the distressed vampire prince. Viktor snarled at the two of them, flashing his fangs, which only drew more laughter.
“I don’t know what you’re so upset about.” Stasia drew the chair out next to her and patted the seat. “There were just a few cameras and a crew. We opened it up to the public to get some buzz. Your grandmother said she wanted good press for you. That’s what we did.”
He sunk into the chair with a groan. “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this. It’s embarrassing. What other seven-hundred-year-old needs his babushka to find dates for him?”
She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “I’m not sure there’s a big enough sample size for a questionnaire like that. Not many seven-hundred-year-olds running around the world.”
He placed a hand on his forehead. “You know what I mean.”
“Relax. Take a deep breath.”
Relaxation was the furthest thing possible right now. Not when somewhere in this castle, lounged three women intent on claiming him as their own. What a joke. He wouldn’t have been so riled up if only that woman hadn’t showed up again. The maid. Only she wasn’t a maid. She was one of his suitors, here for fortune, fame, and who knew what else?
He hated the way the very sight of her made him feel fuzzy, as if he’d drunk the blood of a man on absinthe. It wasn’t like she was Aphrodite rising from the sea. She had her flaws. Her eyes were a little too large for her face and her nose just a little on the flat side. And that attitude. She could flay him alive with the venom in her gaze.
But despite her flaws, he couldn’t take his eyes off her at the opening ceremony. Something about her drew him in, made him want to feel her soft skin beneath his fingertips. All the very best predators in nature had the same magnetic trait. After all, the most beautiful flowers tended to be the most poisonous. And that woman was danger.
“Let’s just dial down the drama, please,” he begged his dearest friend. “I don’t want to become a laughing stock for the entire country. I am a prince, the next in line for the throne. If my people don’t respect me, how am I supposed to rule?”
Sympathy reflected in her eyes as she patted his shoulder. “There’s no way you’ll lose the respect of your people, Vik. You’ve worked too long and too hard on their behalf.”
The public were fickle, as Viktor knew only too well. Stasia was much younger and impressionable. She had no idea of the possible outcomes. Her life was all rainbows and butterflies, where nothing bad could happen. He knew better.
“I wish my grandmother hadn’t pushed this on me. We wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t insisted on this,” he grumbled as he stole a potato off Stasia’s plate, plopped it in his mouth and made a face. “Ugh, these are awful. Don’t you have any blood bags nearby?”
She ignored his jab at her meal. “Queen Anna just wants to see you settled. Some day you’ll be king and you’ll need a queen. She wants you to be prepared for when the time comes.”
His lips formed a dark scowl. “It’ll be many more centuries before that happens. I’m not sure why she’s in such a rush.”
Stasia stared at him for a full thirty seconds, studying his face.
“What?” he demanded, stealing another potato.
Something about today made him want to stress eat. Or gorge himself on some perfectly ripened 98.6 degree type O negative blood. But vampire kind had become sophisticated as of late and left the barbaric throat-tearing ways behind them. Blood from unknowing donors was the meal of the day, no matter how little that satisfied his overwhelming thirst.
“Are you sure King Borwin is handling his condition?” she asked. “He did look a little frail today behind the cameras.”
He shrugged. His grandfather had come down with a case of blood poisoning many years ago — one of the only debilitating diseases a vampire could catch. But he’d handled it just fine up to now. “You know he’s always locked in his office these days. Doesn’t get out during the night to exercise. The man isn’t wasting away, Stasia.”
“Okay, fine.” She returned his shrug. “But, you can’t blame your grandmother for her concern. She just wants what’s best for you and the entire kingdom.”
“Fine, fine. Whatever you say.”
With a last sigh, he pushed himself from the table and left the dining room. All down the hall, the echo of two teenaged werewolves’ mocking laughter followed him, making him bristle with disapproval.
❖
There had to be a way out of this mess. That’s what Cate repeated to herself over and over again when they finally led her back to her room for the night after a long and painful dinner with the prince and the other contestants. She scrambled about the room, looking for something that could help.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They hadn’t even provided her a telephone. Not that she had Miranda’s number memorized. And with her cell phone floating down a river of sewage somewhere, she was stuck. In a moment of pure panic, she thought about stuffing a note into a bottle and throwing it out the window, hoping against hope that it w
ould lead to her friend. But that idea was ridiculous and she had to get a grip if she was going to get through this night unscathed.
Hugging her torso, she dropped onto the bed and moaned. Things couldn’t get much worse.
Dinner that night had been torturous. Prince Viktor had hardly uttered a word. Instead, he’d spent pretty much the whole time scowling into his plate. Duchess Jezebel and Lady Joy had kept the conversation going. Cate only answered direct questions about herself, too busy looking for an exit than to participate in the meal. There hadn’t been a good time to bring up the dreadful mistake. Instead, she’d suffered through and ended back at her suite shortly before midnight.
A knock sounded at one of the closet doors. Cate sat up, her eyes widening in alarm. Surely, this castle had good enough security to keep out creepers that liked to prey on young, vulnerable women. Of course, it hadn’t been good enough to keep her out.
She tiptoed to the closet and pressed her ear against the door, listening for the telltale raspy breath of a man wanting to catch a glimpse of her in her unmentionables. The perv. Determined not to be caught unawares, she threw the door open and shrieked when a blonde figure fell forward and nearly landed at her feet.
“Joy!” She scrambled to help the woman up and pulled her to her feet. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that was you.”
The door hadn’t led to a closet at all. A huge room opened up behind Joy, filled with plush couches, a gigantic television set, and a small dining table. A mouth-watering spread had been left on the table, complete with giant glass bottles of the darkest red liquid. Cate could only assume it was wine. She immediately swore to herself that she wouldn’t touch the stuff. The vodka from the plane had already given her a semi-hangover and she needed to keep her wits about her. No more alcohol.
“It wasn’t my intention to frighten you.” Joy brushed off her pink flannel pajama bottoms and righted her thin camisole. She had the sweetest southern twang when she spoke. “But I reckoned you might be famished. Come and join us, won’t you?”
It was the first time Cate got a good look at her. If ever there had been a real-life version of a porcelain doll, it was Joy. She had delicate features, a tiny nose, sweet flushed cheeks, and skin so smooth it looked unreal. Her head was covered in perfect golden ringlets that reflected the lights above. On her right hand, she wore a similar antiqued ring on her index finger.
Cate brushed her own ring with her thumb, thankful she’d accepted the gift from the airport stranger. Apparently, it was a customary thing to wear around here. Almost every person she met had such a ring. It was strange to her, but not unwelcome. She’d never liked bulky jewelry. Simple and understated were more her style.
“You’ve got food?” she asked, her stomach growling. She’d barely eaten anything at dinner. Two steps into the room and she was almost salivating. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not.” Joy waved her hand and smiled. “It’s for all of us. Help yourself.”
She went straight for the spread, filling a plate with the most delectable of pastries and dips. The castle obviously had a great catering service. One bite into a strange round biscuit had her nearly melting into the floor in pleasure.
“Careful, my dear.” Jezebel’s raspy voice snapped her out of her revelry. “A minute on the lips, forever on the hips.”
She was draped over one of the couches, her knees barely covered by the black satin baby doll nightgown. Her massive amounts of mochaccino brown hair fell over her shoulders in waves, as if she’d just left the salon with a blowout. She had almond-shaped eyes that observed Cate with an almost predatory glint. When she smiled, her painfully white teeth appeared sharp and dangerous.
Cate wondered at it all. There didn’t seem to be one single ugly person on this island. It was as if they’d outlawed their very presence. Everyone here was achingly beautiful. Even the prince himself. She was glad she made the cut. Standing next to Jezebel, she felt insecure for the first time in a long time.
“I think I’ll be okay,” she threw back at the smirking temptress. No need to be intimidated by a woman who so clearly lacked manners. “I heard Prince Viktor appreciates a woman with a hearty appetite.”
Jezebel rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the flashing television screen.
Joy bounced around at her elbow, making little mewing sounds. “Do you really think he prefers a woman who eats a lot? My mother always said I ate like a bird. Do you think he’ll hate me?”
She put a reassuring hand on the woman’s shoulder and leaned in close. “Honestly, I haven’t got a clue what Prince Stiffo likes. I just hate condescending she-bots like Jezebel. She’s not getting under my skin.”
Joy shuddered with a muffled giggle, her eyes growing wide with understanding. “What do you think he’s really like?” she asked as the TV flashed images of the greeting ceremony across the screen.
Cate grimaced at the picture of her standing between the two beautiful women. She looked so out of place with her street clothes and stunned expression. Not at all like she was competing in some twisted version of Joe Millionaire.
“Rude, stuck-up, and entirely too good looking for his own good,” she huffed.
“You’ve met him before?” Joy helped herself to a giant glass of the blood-red wine, gulping it down. A tiny girl like her would be drunk in seconds. Cate eyed her as she refilled her glass.
“Briefly. We ran into each other in the halls before the ceremony. He wasn’t very happy to meet me.”
“Ugh, I wish that had been me. I could take a bite out of that hunk.” She gazed over her glass with a starry-eyed expression. “You know, every girl fantasizes about marrying a prince. And ever since my change, I’ve so desired to meet the mysterious Prince Viktor. But, I’m afraid I’ve just been too busy running my plantation to get out of the States and visit Monstrana.”
Cate wasn’t sure what kind of change Joy had gone through. She suspected plastic surgery. A tiny pert nose like that just didn’t seem natural.
“You run your own business?” she asked, suddenly impressed.
“Of course.” Joy flicked her wrist as if it were no big deal. “I’ve got a few thousand acres. We produce cotton, soybeans, oats, and all kinds of things. Used to be in the tobacco business, but dropped that like a hot potato when the health reports came out. What do you do?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “I guess I’m kind of between jobs at the moment.”
Cate hadn’t even stopped to consider the fact that her ex-boyfriend was now her ex-boss. She’d taken too much time off from her old job teaching at the university when her mom passed away. They’d been forced to hire someone to replace her. Her boyfriend had offered her a secretary job at his ad agency, as a sort of short-term solution.
There was no way she was going back there. So, once again she was between jobs, looking for work. It was a good thing her mom had left her a small inheritance. At least she had rent covered for the next few months.
“That’s delightful,” Joy said, her smile lighting up her eyes. “Take some time to rediscover yourself. You deserve it. I envy your freedom. Oh, you should go to Disney World. I’ve heard it’s just magical.”
Cate laughed and nodded. She liked this strange woman with the Georgian Peach accent. She talked like a child, full of wonder and innocence, but at the same time, had the knowledge of a savvy business woman. A complete paradox.
“Where do you think they’re taking us tomorrow morning?” Joy asked as a picture of Prince Viktor popped up on the television.
Cate stared at his face. Even in his royal portrait, a deep scowl marred his chiseled features. The man evidently didn’t know how to smile. “Tomorrow?”
“The first date. One of the staff said there’s a helicopter involved. I’m not sure where it’s taking us, but I can’t wait.”
She shook off her stupor and frowned. Heights scared the tar out of her. No way would they get her on that helicopter. She’d confess to murder before they’d get
her on it.
“Let’s hope not.” Cate shivered and rubbed her hands up her arms. “I like my feet on solid ground, thank you very much.”
Despite her protests, she couldn’t deny that ever since coming to Monstrana, she’d felt very much like she’d lost sight of that solid ground. The people here seemed nice enough, but leaving the US and entering a foreign country was totally jarring. Not that she had travelled much.
Something about the people in this castle was slightly off, but Cate couldn’t put her finger on it. She’d figure it out in the morning when she finally got a chance to talk to Miranda. Until then, she’d just have to forget about Prince Viktor and his sudden, unwelcome intrusion into her life.
Chapter Five
CATE WOKE UP LATE THE next morning to find cameras shoved in her face. She sat straight up, running a hand through her snarled hair and rubbing an eye. A TV crew had set up camp next to her bed, along with a hearty tray of donuts and the same blood-red wine from last night.
She blinked at the drink, wondering what kind of country served alcohol at breakfast. Maybe it was silly of her to balk at it. She’d heard that Germans liked beer with their sausages and eggs. Still, she steered clear of the beverage and headed right into the bathroom to shower.
She was never going to find Miranda with cameras following her every move. This was absurd. As soon as she found Stasia, she was going to come clean. That was it.
The scalding hot shower seemed to ease her worries as she washed away the drama of yesterday. With towel-dried hair and just a dab of makeup, she felt incredibly refreshed. After slipping into her favorite pair of skinny jeans and a silky sleeveless top, she looked herself over in the mirror and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of girl Prince Viktor liked.
No doubt, Jezebel was just up his alley. The two made great eye candy. Together, their children would rule the world. She smirked at the thought of it.
The sound of Stasia’s fluttery laugh drifted from the bedroom and Cate hurried to find her. She was sitting on the edge of a chair, chatting with the film crew. A jelly donut dripped in her right hand. She greeted Cate with a giant smile that stretched from ear to ear and waved her over.
Drop Dead Single: Vampire Romance (A Monstrana Paranormal Romance Book 1) Page 3
