Date with a Vampire

by Raine English

  The impact of Theo’s words was not lost on Guystof. If he failed, not only did he face disgrace, but the kingdom would become a much more dangerous place. Theo loved nothing better than the taste of blood, and with him in control, there’d be nothing to stop him and his twisted desires.

  — : : —

  “Don’t answer it,” Melody shouted from the living room, wishing the phone would stop ringing. Her roommates chattered in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Just a week had passed since she’d gone to lottery headquarters and learned she held the only winning ticket, making her New York’s latest most-eligible female, yet the word had spread like wildfire. It seemed everyone wanted a piece of her.

  “I want my old life back,” she said wistfully while sinking onto the couch. She scooped up the pile of messages the girls had taken for her and fanned through them.

  “Sorry, Mel, that’ll never happen.” Ann entered the room, carrying a tray filled with chips and dip. She set it down on the coffee table in front of Melody, then snatched the papers from her hands. “I’m afraid these are just the beginning. Not only are you rich, but you’re single. And being gorgeous doesn’t hurt, either. You’re one hot commodity, babe.”

  Melody groaned. “I don’t want to be a hot commodity. I just want to be me, unknown old Melody from Hope.”

  Ann dropped the messages on the table, took hold of Melody’s hand and pulled her to her feet. She dragged her over to the wall mirror. “Look, Mel, with a face and figure like yours, there’s no way the media’s going to keep you from the spotlight.”

  Big blue eyes stared back at her as she studied her reflection. A nice straight nose and full lips rounded out her heart-shaped face, while long strands of honey-colored hair draped her shoulders.

  “Face it. You’re America’s new sweetheart.”

  Melody rolled her eyes.

  “Get used to it. This is only the beginning.”

  “How am I going to live my life? How are we going to live? The phone never stops ringing.” Her gaze scanned over the roses, carnations, and various other flowers spilling out from the vases sent to her by an endless stream of gold-digging men. “Seems like everyone in town now knows where I live.” She turned to face her friend. “It’s not fair to you…to any of you guys…but where can I go and not be found? What can I do to change all this?”

  She crossed the room and plopped back onto the couch. Picking up a handful of messages from the table, she began to read. “‘I’m a single white male, thirty-five, who would love to love you.’” She made a face and tossed the paper onto the floor. “Here’s another one. ‘Although I’m fifty-seven, don’t let my age scare you. I can teach you things that young guys don’t even know exist.’ Yuck.” She crumpled the message and threw it on the floor along with the other one. “And the list of Hope’s single men goes on and on,” she said, fanning the rest of the letters.

  Ann’s eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped open. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” she shrieked, jumping up and down.

  Melody scowled. “Oh, not you too. Don’t tell me there’s someone you want to fix me up with.”

  “Not someone. Twenty someones.”

  “What?”

  Ann spread the papers over the coffee table. “Oh, where is it? I only just took the message this morning.”

  Melody patted her friend’s arm. “Calm down. Where’s what?”

  “The message from the producers of Dream Girl.”

  Melody groaned, and her fingers tightened around Ann’s upper arm. “You’re not going to tell me what I think you are, are you?”

  Ann’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Well, if you think they want you to be the next Dream Girl, then yes, that’s what I’m telling you.”

  She took a deep breath and coaxed Ann onto the couch. “Sit here and listen very carefully. I am not going to be the next anything. I don’t want any TV appearances or interviews of any kind. I want to live a quiet life. Got it?”

  Ann drew her brows together into a deep scowl. “I know that’s what you want, but I’m afraid the media doesn’t give a fig about your wishes. That’s why this idea is so fantastic. Don’t say no. As a matter of fact, don’t say anything until you’ve heard me out and given it some thought.”

  She leaned back against the couch and folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, I’ll listen, but that’s all. You’re not going to convince me to do anything.”

  Ann grinned, exposing the gap between her two front teeth. “Fair enough.” She tucked one leg up under her and faced Melody. “I was skeptical too when I took the call. I mean, who would want to star in a reality show? Especially one where twenty gorgeous guys are vying for your love? But think about it, Mel. The producers screen these guys. They do extensive background checks. We’re not talking average Joes here. These guys are the crème de la crème. So aside from having a fabulous time with twenty hunks wining and dining you, we’ll put an end to these.” Ann held up the pile of messages from the litany of men wishing to meet Melody.

  “I’m afraid I’m not getting it. How is my going on Dream Girl going to put an end to all this?”

  Ann rolled her eyes as if Melody was dense. “It’s simple, really. The purpose of the show is for you to find your soul mate, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

  “Have you lost your mind? You know how I feel about those shows. They might be fun to watch, but I don’t believe anyone there really finds a lasting love.”

  Ann took hold of her hands and squeezed. “No, silly. I don’t believe that either. You only have to give the appearance of falling in love. Whichever man you choose, you announce your engagement to the world. A very long engagement,” she said with a wink.

  Melody’s eyes widened. “I get you now. It’s all for show, but as far as the public is concerned, I’m off the market.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Oh, Ann. I don’t know. It sounds good in theory, but what about the poor man? The one I choose. It’s not fair to deceive him.”

  “Mel, you’re such a softy. You’re worried about the feelings of a man you don’t even know. Toughen up, girl, and worry about yourself.”

  She shook her head. “Even if I agreed to do it, I don’t think I could carry it off. He’d see right through me and know my feelings weren’t real. You know I’m a terrible actress.”

  Ann opened her mouth, then snapped it shut as Mags and Billy entered the room, carrying trays filled with food and drinks.

  “Hey guys, what’s up?” Billy asked, pushing the papers aside to set her tray down next to the chips and dip. “I’ve got a bunch of messages for you too, Mel.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful.

  Mags laughed, though she sounded uneasy. “I do too. Looks like we’re going to have to get an unlisted number.”

  Melody looked at each of her friends. Despite their joking, her newfound celebrity had become quite an imposition. They couldn’t continue to live this way. Something had to be done and soon.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Ann’s solution was the only one she had. Spending a few weeks with twenty handsome bachelors sure beat disappearing into anonymity, or losing her friends because of this annoying, unwanted celebrity. If she was going to be a media darling, she might as well play the game and get the media to work for her. An island vacation. Fun times with guys who were undoubtedly searching for their fifteen minutes of fame more than true love, anyhow. No one would get hurt, and she’d be off the hook. Go for it, that little voice of intuition whispered. Grinning, she said, “Ann, I think you may have come up with the answer after all.”

  — : : —

  Guystof paced his bedroom floor. The clock was ticking, and as each day passed, so did his chances of fulfilling his father’s ultimatum. He had to find a bride, no matter how distasteful that might be. But how was he to find one with a huge fortune and do so in a short period of time?

  He crossed the room and grabbed his father’s letter, then tore it into tiny pi
eces, letting them flutter to the floor. Impossible. And not only did Father know that, but Theo did as well. The thought of his brother as head of the LeBreque family turned his stomach. Theo was cruel, even by vampire standards, and to have him running things sent a chill straight to Guystof’s heart. There had to be a way for him to find a rich woman to marry…

  The knock on his door turned his thoughts from his dilemma, at least temporarily. The heavy wooden door opened, and Blakesley, his butler and confidant, strolled in carrying a silver tray topped with a tea set and the morning newspaper. “I thought you might like something warm to drink before you retire for the day, sir.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you,” he replied, offering up a woeful smile. “But sleep is not something I’ve had much of lately.”

  “I know that, sir. It shows on your face, especially in the dark rings beneath your eyes. Perhaps if you read a bit, it will take your mind off your problems and help you to relax.” Blakesley set the tray on the bedside table and poured a steaming cup of tea, then pulled down the bedspread and proceeded to shut the heavy velvet draperies surrounding the large mahogany four-poster.

  Guystof watched as the elderly gentleman with his thinning crop of salt-and-pepper hair and faded hazel eyes tried to make him comfortable. Blakesley’s efforts were well appreciated.

  He took a careful sip of tea, then picked up the newspaper. It was turned to the Entertainment section. The woman gracing the front page was a beauty. Even on cheap newsprint, there was no denying her classic good looks, but it was the heading, “Multimillionaire to be New Dream Girl,” that caught his attention first.

  “You sly devil.” He laughed, slapping the newspaper on the edge of the table and shifting his gaze to Blakesley, who was trying to creep from the room unnoticed.

  With a hand on the doorknob, his butler turned to face him. “Sir? Were you referring to me?”

  Guystof let out a chuckle from deep in his belly. “I’m amazed at how clever you are.”

  Blakesley lifted a bushy white brow. “And how’s that, sir?”

  “Don’t be coy, old man. You set me up to read this.” Guystof waved the newspaper in front of him. “Though it’s a splendid idea, it’s a gamble. Even if the producers select me, there’s no guarantee I’ll win the Dream Girl’s heart.”

  Blakesley crossed the room in his stilted gait to stand before him. “I’ve no doubt she’ll fall in love with you, sir. None at all. For centuries women have been pursuing you. It’s been you, sir, who has not been interested.”

  “But if this one was to select someone other than me, I’d have used up all my time, giving Theo control.”

  “You’ll not let that happen, Count.”

  Guystof smiled and rubbed his square jaw line with his fingertips. “Ah, perhaps she will be impressed with the title. What American woman wouldn’t love to become a countess, eh, Blakes?”

  “Indeed, sir. Indeed.”

  “It’s settled, then. Call the show’s producers.”

  CHAPTER Two

  Melody swallowed the aspirin, then gently laid her throbbing skull back on the couch cushions and groaned. Last night’s farewell dinner had been a tearful event, and she’d wound up drinking more than she’d planned. One glass of wine with her meal had been her intention, but whenever her glass went below half full, someone would refill it, then offer up a toast. How could she refuse? Her friends and family had been so wonderful. Not only had they planned the dinner, but they put together a slide show of Fiji, the South Pacific island where Dream Girl would be taped. Her mother had done most of the work. No surprise. She owned a travel agency and was a control freak. Athena Johnson’s need to run her family’s lives may have led to her divorce, but Melody, her only child, was a devoted daughter.

  Although Melody would have preferred to curl up in bed with a book, she was a good sport and went along with the whole party thing—even wore a gaudy purple-and-red plastic lei and chowed down on pineapple and roast pig. It wasn’t until Mags, Billy, and Ann kicked off their shoes to do a traditional island dance that things started to get out of control. Her father, a normally reserved accountant, had way too much to drink. She understood he was nervous about his baby girl traveling so far away, but dancing on the table was not a good thing. And then when Mom tried to pull him off and knocked the strawberry cream cake onto the floor instead, it was time to leave. And fast. Before the staff at La Folay threw everyone out.

  There were plenty of hugs, kisses, and tears, and Melody couldn’t wait to get home. Once inside the tranquil walls of her apartment, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Fiji was so far way. She might as well be going to the moon. And that feeling of dread had not gone away.

  She’d tossed and turned all night, and as the pounding in her head increased, so did her fear. Starring in a reality show. Had she lost her mind? Twenty gorgeous guys would soon be vying for her love and attention. How would she cope? A blind date was enough to send her into panic mode, but twenty dates? And on national television? She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the room from spinning. Bile rose up in her throat, and she swallowed hard.

  “Coool! Did you know that Fiji lies in the heart of the Pacific Ocean, halfway between the Equator and the South Pole?” The sound of Ann’s voice took her mind off her misery, at least temporarily.

  “Uh-huh.” Melody opened her eyes and looked over at her best friend curled up on the easy chair across the room. With straight brown hair, pecan-colored eyes, freckled skin and a love for neutral-colored clothes, Ann was as nondescript as one could get, but she had more heart than anyone Melody had ever known.

  “And did you know that it’s home to six species of bats?” Ann held a travelogue of the island on her lap.

  “And I need to know that because…?”

  “Because it’s interesting. Mel, you’re going to a beautiful tropical island halfway around the world. Imagine white sandy beaches, crystal-clear azure water, the gentle breeze blowing over your sun-bronzed skin. And I’ll be here in Hope, taking my wool sweaters out of mothballs. It might only be September, but winter will be here too soon for my liking.”

  “I’d be happy to let you go in my place.”

  Ann raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know I can’t do that. Besides, once you get there, I’m sure you’re going to love it. Just watch out for the cannibals.”

  The thought of people eating other people made her stomach churn, and Melody clamped her hand over her mouth.

  Ann giggled. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to gross you out. And by the way, that practice ended a long time ago.”

  “Thanks. I feel much better now.”

  Her friend uncurled her long thin legs and bounded across the room like a rambunctious puppy. She plopped down next to Melody on the couch. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow. I know you’ll only be gone a few months, but I’m going to miss you so much.”

  A lump formed in Melody’s throat, making it difficult to speak. She fought hard to keep the tears clouding her eyes from spilling onto her cheeks. She mustn’t cry. She’d done enough of that last night. As she took a deep breath and swallowed, she tried to think happy thoughts.

  “I’ll be back home before you know it. You’ll see.” Melody wasn’t sure if she’d succeeded in cheering up Ann, but she still felt awful.

  “I want you to have this.” Ann reached behind her neck and undid the clasp to the tiny gold cross she always wore. Though both girls were Christians, Ann attended church weekly, while Melody was less regular. Christmas, Easter, and a Sunday or two sprinkled in between.

  She pushed Ann’s hand away. “I couldn’t,” she sputtered. “I can’t take that from you.” Ann’s dad had been killed in a car accident when she was a little girl. It was the last thing he’d given to her.

  “Okay, then, if you won’t keep it, just borrow it. Wear it till you come back.” Ann draped it around Melody’s neck and clasped it shut. “I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because we were talkin
g about cannibals, but it’ll make me happy knowing you’ll have it on.”

  Melody hugged Ann tightly. She couldn’t have asked for a more considerate friend. And she had to admit, she was beginning to feel a bit better.

  — : : —

  Blakesley’s intent stare was disconcerting. “I do believe I’ve come to like your new look, sir.”

  Guystof gingerly touched his newly cropped, spiky hair. He’d worn it shoulder-length for hundreds of years, and the gelled hairdo felt unnatural. Perhaps stepping out of his seventeenth-century comfort zone wouldn’t be as easy as he’d anticipated. Certainly he didn’t look forward to donning his modern attire. Cargo pants and Birkenstocks lay at the opposite end of the fashion spectrum from his customary Armani ensembles.

  The first thing he’d done after arriving in New York City was to update his appearance. That meant a shopping spree through Bergdorf Goodman and an appointment with Dominick, the city’s premier hairstylist. A necessary evil if he was to become one of the bachelors on Dream Girl. And his transformation had done the trick. The producers’ decision to choose him had been unanimous. He’d left Tristate Studios with a plane ticket for Fiji.

  Guystof had one day to perfect his image; then he was off to a tropical island paradise to meet the woman he needed to make fall in love with him. That would be quite a task. He knew nothing of modern American women, but he knew one thing: he’d have to be comfortable in his own skin if he was to succeed. And that meant getting used to jeans. With a tug at his crotch, he pulled his pants down a bit and let out a sigh of relief. Denim would take some getting used to.

  Guystof walked over to the window and looked out at the vast array of skyscrapers—all glass and steel sparkling like giant crystals. The view from the forty-second floor of the New York Hilton was spectacular.

  The bright afternoon sun warmed his face, and he smiled. No need to hide from its rays now. He twisted the gold crested ring he wore on his right hand. Beneath the LeBreque shield was a tiny vial given to him by Blakesley. It held enough potion to keep him human for the duration of the show. One drop daily was all he needed to suppress his hunger for blood. He could do all the things mortals could, and that included enjoying the sunlight. But, as with anything that seemed too good to be true, there were drawbacks. Too much of the potion could be disastrous. Its side effects were unknown. Ambrus, his grandfather and a very fine sorcerer, had conjured the potion back in the sixteenth century in the hopes of reversing the curse that had turned his family into vampires, but he was burned at the stake before he’d finished testing it. Luckily, he’d entrusted it to Blakesley for safekeeping.