THE VAMPIRE’S
ACCIDENTAL WIFE
Nocturne Falls, Book Eight
Kristen Painter
Las Vegas headliner and vampire Desdemona Valentine is one cool, collected diva on the outside. On the inside, she’s petrified of falling in love after her last relationship nearly killed her…literally. Protecting her wounded heart makes for a lonely life, but she has her fame and fortune to keep her company. Who needs anything more?
Julian Ellingham does. One look at Desdemona on stage, and the vampire is smitten. She initially ignores him, but his relentless pursuit pays off when a wild night ends in a Vegas wedding. Finally, Julian has everything he wants while all Desdemona wants is…a divorce.
Julian sweet-talks Desdemona into letting him prove his love, but his time is running out. Especially after someone repeatedly tries to turn his bride to ash. When Desdemona flees Vegas for the spooky streets of Nocturne Falls and Julian’s protection, he’s more than willing to help out. But can he convince Desdemona to trust him, or will ‘death do us part’ become a reality?
Welcome to Nocturne Falls, the town that celebrates Halloween 365 days a year. The tourists think it’s all a show: the vampires, the werewolves, the witches, the occasional gargoyle flying through the sky. But the supernaturals populating the town know better.
Living in Nocturne Falls means being yourself. Fangs, fur, and all.
THE VAMPIRE’S ACCIDENTAL WIFE:
Nocturne Falls, Book Eight
Copyright © 2017 Kristen Painter
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-1-941695-28-9
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NEWSLETTER.
Table of Contents
THE VAMPIRE’S ACCIDENTAL WIFE
About the Book
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
About the Author
Other books by Kristen Painter
Many Thanks
Dedicated to my amazing mom.
Thanks for your support,
your proofreading, and the morning walks.
Love you.
September
For the briefest of moments, Julian Ellingham awoke thinking tonight was going to be just like every other night of his life. But then he remembered the woman in the bed beside him, and he smiled.
Tonight was not at all like every other night of his life. Tonight was the start of something very new and very wonderful.
He rolled onto his side and propped his head in his hand.
There she was. The most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on—and in his nearly four hundred years, he’d laid eyes (and other things) on more women than he could count.
Her gorgeous brown skin gleamed against the ivory bedsheets with the glow only a goddess of her magnitude could achieve. Because make no mistake, she was a goddess. A Caribbean goddess, made even more desirable by the fact that she was also a vampiress.
Although her desirability was pretty high already.
He loved the lilt of her voice, the way she cut her eyes at him when he did something she deemed questionable, the curves of her body, her wit and intelligence, and the tiny heart-shaped birthmark on the instep of her left foot. But those things were not to be outdone by the haughty tilt of her head that accompanied any suggestion she thought beneath her, the almost feline grace she possessed that caused men to watch her walk by, the brilliance and speed of her thought processes, and the way she constantly smelled of orange blossoms.
He was sick with love. Besotted. Giddy as a schoolboy. And he’d never been happier. Because not only was the great and glorious Desdemona Valentine in his bed, but as of last night’s wild, but amazing, events, she was also now his wife.
The woman he’d been wooing for these many, many months had finally succumbed to his charms, but the evening’s outcome had been beyond his wildest dreams.
It was pretty incredible what you could accomplish in Vegas at all hours of the night. Granted, it hadn’t been that late when they’d gotten the marriage license, but then they’d also started drinking rather early. Champagne and lots of it, because Desi was in the mood to celebrate, champagne was her favorite and when it came to spoiling her, there were no limits.
Then they’d found themselves in the Little White Chapel. Or the Chapel of Love. Or maybe it had been the Blue Suede Chapel? He couldn’t really remember, but he knew they’d been in a chapel and he knew they’d gotten married, just like he knew they’d kept the party going long after they’d tied the knot.
Desi had imbibed quite a bit more than he had but, right up until the moment she’d passed out in his arms, she’d seemed pretty much in control of her faculties.
After that, he’d carried her back here to her condo in the Skye Towers and they’d crashed. Well, technically, she’d already been crashed. He’d just gotten her out of her dress, tucked her into bed, then tucked himself right in next to her.
The marriage had yet to be consummated, but taking care of her came first. That was what a husband did for his wife. Everything else could wait. Besides, they had centuries ahead of them.
He sighed in happiness.
As much as he wished she’d wake up, he also wanted to let her sleep. She might be just a touch hung over. He wasn’t, but then, he’d had a fast metabolism even as a human, something becoming a vampire had only increased.
He slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her, and went into the kitchen to see what she had in her fridge. A shelf of steaks, six liters of blood, and a case of good champagne. He laughed. A woman after his own heart, but then, that’s why he’d married her.
He took out a pint of blood and poured himself some breakfast. He wasn’t so fond of it cold, but warming it up would make noise.
For his beloved, he would suffer.
He downed his meal, then decided to pour a goblet for Desi. If she wasn’t awake, he’d just leave it on her nightstand while he took a shower. And if she wasn’t up by the time he got out, he’d wake her. Gently. She had to be up soon anyway. She had a show to do at nine p.m., and getting ready took an hour
and a half.
After all these months, he knew her schedule better than he knew his own.
He would not be the reason his lovely bride was late for work, nor would he cause all those ticket holders to riot if the Vamp herself didn’t show.
Vegas was known for its outrageous shows, and hers was no exception. Vamp was an extravaganza of music, magic, dancing, and special effects. Not surprisingly, the production had become the hottest ticket in town in the year it had been running. It was genius really, the kind of stuff Nocturne Falls had turned into an industry.
She was a vampire playing a vampire, and no one knew the truth, but her magic on stage was her magic in real life, and some of the special effects were just her inherent vampire abilities. There was a witch who worked on the show too, providing some of the other illusions, but Desi’s true nature was the real star.
He walked back into the bedroom, leaving the lights off so as not to wake her, and sat in the chair at her dressing table, setting the glass there for a moment so he could just take her in and appreciate what a lucky man he was.
Watching her show was also how he’d fallen in love with her.
He’d gone to see it on a lark when he’d been in Vegas researching wedding chapels before opening one in Nocturne Falls, and the title of her show had intrigued him. He’d seen her stunning face on billboards and taxi advertisements, and had decided it was time to check her out in person. He’d gotten bored with the nightclub scene, anyway. Hanging out in the VIP section, surrounded by a new squad of beautiful young women every night, was fun for a while, but no human woman would ever really be enough for him.
He wanted a partner. An equal. And while his brother Hugh had successfully turned his human girlfriend into a vampire, Julian didn’t want to attempt it. Turnings weren’t always successful, and the thought of losing the woman he loved—and being the cause of it—would have been more than he could take.
So that fateful night in Vegas he’d gone to Vamp, expecting to see a pitiful imitation of his reality and hoping, at best, to be pulled out of his doldrums for a while. Instead, he’d been enthralled. He’d watched from the front row, mesmerized by Desdemona’s beauty and magnetism for the entire seventy-five-minute performance.
By the end of it, he’d had a strong suspicion that Ms. Valentine was doing all her own stunts. The underwater routine, appearing at three different places in the theater within seconds, gracefully lifting her dancers overhead without any sign of effort…those were all feats that would be difficult for a human without some kind of technical assistance, but for a vampire? Small, easy tasks.
But the most telling of all her “special effects” was the glow in her eyes. How would any show producer know to add that unless they’d met a vampire, or the star of the show actually was one?
It all added up to a pressing desire to meet her. And so he did, using his vampire charm and speed to slip past security and into her dressing room before she returned to it.
She’d sensed him before she’d seen him, confirming everything he’d suspected.
“You’re not the first,” she’d said, slipping out of her jet-encrusted headdress.
He’d played dumb. “Not the first what?”
“Vampire to come see me.” She’d drawn a black silk robe over her barely there outfit that was mostly rhinestones and leather.
“So you know what I am?”
She’d finally faced him. “Just like you know what I am.”
He’d smiled and nodded. “I had to see for myself.”
She’d looked bored, which amused him. “And now that you have, you can go.” She’d gestured toward the door with one long, pointed, blood-red nail.
“Come to dinner with me,” he’d countered.
“Why?”
“Why not?”
She’d proceeded to give him a dozen reasons and promised to keep going, so he’d acquiesced and left. The damage, however, had been done.
He wanted her. How could he not? She was a challenge, and that wasn’t something he was used to, or willing to back down from. It was intoxicating. He sent her an extravagant bouquet of rare Juliet roses the next day and returned to his front-row seat at her show the next night.
She’d made brief eye contact with him, giving him hope.
He’d sent more flowers the following day with a note saying he hoped they could become better acquainted on his next visit to Vegas.
They hadn’t. But he’d persisted. And over the course of the next several months, he’d made numerous trips.
He liked to think it was his charm that had finally gotten to her, but it was more likely that he’d worn her down with his persistence. He’d even changed his hours back to those more traditionally kept by vampires—evenings only—when he was in Vegas with her. He considered that a sacrifice since his family amulet allowed him to be in the sun whenever he liked.
Whatever the reason, she’d finally relented and gone to dinner with him.
Their friendship was a tenuous one. She didn’t want a relationship, she made that clear. She liked her life just as it was.
He, on the other hand, wasn’t especially fond of his unattached life. And there was something about her he couldn’t get enough of.
Then last night had happened. She’d been deliriously happy after finding out that she was getting a television special on a cable network. It was incredible news, and she’d been desperate to celebrate. He’d been in the right place at the right time.
How right, he hadn’t imagined until they’d found themselves standing in that chapel.
Even now, sitting in her bedroom, the truth felt surreal.
Married. He, Julian Ellingham, was married. And happy about it. He laughed softly. Who would have thought?
She stirred and rubbed a hand over her face, then yawned and pushed up on her elbows to look toward the windows.
“Good evening.”
She jumped. “You.”
“Yes, me. Sleep well?” He stood up and carried the goblet to her. “I brought you breakfast. I thought you could use it after last night.”
She squinted up at him. “Last night? I don’t remember much of it.” She looked at the rumpled sheets on the other side of the bed. “Did we—”
“No. We were both very well behaved. Sadly.”
Curiosity screwed up her face. “Then what did we do?”
“My darling Desi, we had quite an evening.”
Her head agreed with him. She wasn’t exactly hungover—that would take some doing for a vampire to achieve—but she also wasn’t exactly a hundred percent. If partially hungover was a thing, that’s where she was at. She sat up gingerly and took the goblet he was offering. That would help. “Apparently. Come on, what happened?”
His grin was downright annoying. Like he knew something she didn’t. Which he did. But still. “Have a look at your hand.”
She held out her right hand.
“No,” he said. “The other one.”
She set the goblet down and stretched that hand out.
Even in the dark, the enormous diamond was impossible to miss. She shrieked. “What the bloody hell is that?”
He laughed. “It’s your engagement ring, darling.”
“No.” She choked back a gasp, trying to keep the panic at bay. “Look, I like you well enough, but I do not want to be engaged.” She started to tug the beast of a diamond off her hand. It might be the most gorgeous thing she’d seen since Julian himself, but it was coming off. She refused to go down this road. Again.
“Lucky for you, then.”
She stopped pulling at the ring. “Why? I’m confused. Are we not engaged?”
“Technically, no, we are not engaged.”
She sighed in relief, her concerns evaporating. Julian did enjoy teasing her.
His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We’re married.”
Had her heart been beating, it would have stopped. “What?”
He frowned. “Do you really not remember any of last nig
ht?”
“I remember celebrating my television deal. And you ordering that magnum of champagne.”
“More than one.” He held up three fingers.
Her mouth fell open. No wonder her head hurt. “We drank three magnums of champagne?”
“I had half of one. The rest were all you.” He shrugged one shoulder. “You seemed pretty happy about it last night, and you were holding up well enough, but…maybe I should have said something.”
She shook her head, instantly regretting it. “It wouldn’t have stopped me. You know that.”
“I do.” His smile returned. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”
She rubbed her temples as the throbbing intensified. She couldn’t say those words back. Wouldn’t. Because she refused to love anyone. It was one of her rules. And while she liked him tremendously, marriage was off the table. Another of her rules. How on earth had she agreed to such a thing?
He stood. “You need to leave for the show soon. Can I do anything for you? I will, you know. Whatever you need.”
She nodded. “I know.” He would, too. He was a kind, albeit persistent man. It made him easy to like. Too easy. He was also charming. And handsome. And a real pain in the neck. She lifted the goblet, drained it, then set it down. “Thank you, but I just need to shower and get moving.”
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