“You betcha.” Woo-hoo, would you look at that butt— round, tight, and totally drool-worthy. She’d need a bib by the time he fixed the air-conditioning.
“Lucky for you I have my tool belt loaded.” His voice lowered to a husky murmur. “I have a tool for every need. Long, strong, and able to get into tight places.”
“Uh-huh.” Was it physically possible for her tongue to get tangled in her vocal cords? Must be, because she sure was having trouble talking. She dropped her gaze. Yep, there was his tool belt. And his screwdriver had this big, firm, strong-looking handle that was so . . . so . . . symbolic.
He pulled the cover off the thermostat and did some fiddling with the innards. “Here for a vacation?”
“Sort of.” Now that she’d gotten over her initial shock, she started to wonder about a hotel employee showing up shirtless. Unless . . . unless the castle was totally into sexual excess. Then a hot handyman would make lots of sense. The thought, admittedly out there, cheered her. “I’m a freelance writer, and I thought I’d do a story”—read expo sé—“about the park.”
He continued tinkering with the thermostat. Hmm, the noise had been in the vents, so she didn’t see why he was fooling with the thermostat. But what did she know about air conditioners?
“You should start with a Castle of Dark Dreams fantasy.” He glanced at his watch while she glanced at the play of smooth muscle across his back. “I’m almost done here, and then I can quit for the night. How about we go down to the great hall together, and I’ll introduce you to the park’s fantasy world? Call it a welcome gift.”
Kristin considered his “gift.” Why not experience her first fantasy with him? If she was looking for the sexual underbelly of this park, he was as good a place to start as any. Darkly sensual and wickedly tempting, he would make a perfect guide to all the sinfully delicious secrets of Live the Fantasy.
In fact, if she worked things right, she might be able to keep him for the whole week. Whoa, rein in stampeding lust. She’d have lots of fun researching this article, but it was still all about the job. Besides, he’d only offered to guide her through one fantasy, not strip off her clothes and then make wild, planet-exploding love with her.
She sighed. Okay, so that was her fantasy. She’d lived most of her life in small-town North Dakota where absolutely nothing unusual ever happened. Can we say boring with a big, bold capital B?
Mom and Dad were great people, but they were convinced that once she reached the age when her hormonal tide was at flood stage, she’d slip from their grasp and be swept away by waves of sexual depravity. Her parents had kept her on such a tight leash she still had a collar mark around her neck, metaphorically speaking of course.
So when she finally escaped to college and afterward to the big, bad city, Kristin probably overcompensated a little by searching out stories that didn’t reek of ordinary small-town America. And anything that promised kinky sex had her instant attention.
“Sounds like an offer I can’t turn down.” She slipped her sandals on. No matter what might happen during the fantasy, Kristin’s cup of vicarious sensuality was full. “Let’s go.”
He guided her out the door and closed it behind him. “Why don’t you go down to the great hall, and I’ll meet you there. I have to drop my tool belt in my room and put on a shirt.”
“Sure.” She wanted to know about that shirt, but decided not to ask. He might actually have a good reason for not wearing one. Kristin liked her take on his shirtless state better—namely that the castle was dedicated to sex, so she’d be meeting shirtless, hot bods around every decadent corner. Ignoring the elevator, she headed for the winding stone stairs.
Taurin watched from narrowed eyes as she disappeared down the stairs. She’d been a surprise. He’d never seen Kristin Hughes. In San Antonio, she’d sent someone else in to do her dirty work, and he’d pictured a dried-up, vicious hag, because . . . Fine, so a dried-up, vicious hag would be easier to hate.
Not that he hated her less just because she had long black hair, big blue eyes, and pouty lips that would drive a man crazy if she chose to put them on any part of his body. And just because she had great breasts, an excellent ass, and long, long legs didn’t affect his feelings for her in the least. He’d bet she was dried up and vicious on the inside.
He took the elevator down to the floor below the great hall. The dungeon was there, along with all the vampires’ rooms. No windows, so it was the only part of the castle that sunlight couldn’t reach. Taurin slipped on a black T-shirt and was on his way up to the great hall when he met Eric.
At one time he’d thought Eric was responsible for his brother’s death, but then he’d found out that Dacian wasn’t dead at all. Now he was glad to have Eric on his side. “She’s upstairs waiting for me. I’m doing a fantasy with her. How about if I take your part this time?”
Eric raised one sardonic brow. “You want to be Eric the Evil?”
Taurin knew his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “No, I want to be Taurin the Hot, able to fulfill a certain nosy freelance writer’s sexual fantasies so she won’t have time to notice that some of us have fangs or alternate forms.”
“No problem. But don’t use my plaid. I’m the only Highland vampire in the house.”
“Your plaid’s safe. I’m going traditional. Long black cape and . . . Well, guess that’s it. A long black cape. Nothing else.” Taurin tried to ratchet down his anticipatory rush. He shouldn’t be looking forward to this so much, because that gave her an importance she didn’t deserve.
“Taking it over the top, aren’t you? Be careful.” Eric looked a little uneasy. “Holgarth may be a lawyer as well as a wizard, but we don’t need him wearing his attorney’s hat to defend you on an indecent exposure charge.”
“The woman wants a sensational story, so I’ll give her what she wants.” Taurin put on his mock-shock expression. “Indecent exposure? Hey, anything I expose isn’t just decent, it’s damn good.”
Call him cynical, but down through the centuries he’d learned that most women were all about externals. Show a female a great body, and she was all over it. Emotions were just so much excess baggage. Granted, he’d pretty much stuck with female night feeders since he became vampire, but he’d bet human females had the same take on sex. “And if she comes unglued, we can make sure she doesn’t remember a thing.”
Eric still looked unconvinced. “So let’s say you give her what she wants and then don’t wipe her memory before she leaves the castle. What’s going to happen when her story hits the street?”
Taurin shrugged. “I’m going to be her source for all things sexual, so if I say she made everything up, who’s going to believe her? I’ll make sure she doesn’t leave with any proof, and I can point to the stories she’s done on vampires and werewolves to show that she’s into sensationalism.” The payoff would be huge. “Holgarth might even be able to sue her ass.” Uh-oh, shouldn’t have mentioned any body parts, because no matter how much he hated Kristin Hughes, she had a behind that lent itself to vibrant visuals.
Eric laughed. “Go for it. I’ll walk up with you and take a look at her.”
Once in the great hall, Taurin spotted Kristin talking with Holgarth. Not unexpected. Holgarth took his duty of greeting and irritating new guests seriously. Taurin hurried to reach her before the wizard drove her from the castle. He didn’t want that to happen.
Logically, that would be a good thing to happen. But logic had nothing to do with his feelings for Kristin. He wanted her to stay because . . . he wanted the personal joy of knowing he’d deprived her of the biggest story of her life. Namely, that the castle was run by a vampire, a former demon of sensual desire, and an immortal warrior.
And as a sidebar, he’d have the added pleasure of watching her rub shoulders with all kinds of nontraditional beings and not have a clue. The thought of how he intended to keep her distracted from the truth lurking right under her inquisitive nose triggered the slide of his fangs.
He frowned. At
least he thought that’s what triggered it. Sure, her green top dipped low enough to expose the smooth skin of her throat. But come on now, this was the throat of the hated Kristin Hughes, the woman who singlehandedly chased him and eleven of his night-feeder friends out of San Antonio. No matter how bright and shiny her wrapping paper looked, inside the package beat a cold, cold heart.
“Nice,” Eric murmured just before they joined Holgarth.
“Didn’t notice.” Taurin winced. Stupid lie. Not that he had anything against lying when the situation called for it, but denying the obvious would only make Eric suspicious. And the other vampire could make his life hell if he thought Taurin had any sexual interest in Kristin. Which he didn’t. At all.
Eric cast him a considering look before turning his smile on Kristin. “Welcome to the Castle of Dark Dreams, Kristin. I’m Eric McNair. You’ll meet my brothers, Brynn and Conall, during your fantasy. We all try to make sure everyone has a great experience while they’re here. Taurin was just telling me about you. Has Holgarth filled you in on how the fantasies work?”
“Sort of.” The crease between her spectacular blue eyes told Taurin that Holgarth had been busy spreading his own brand of goodness and light.
They needed a full-time damage-control team to follow the wizard around. As a meeter and greeter, Holgarth was really scary. Time to refocus her on who was important in this castle. Him. “I’ll help you pick out your costume, and then I’ll turn you over to someone else who’ll get you ready for your personal fantasy.”
She looked confused. “But I thought you’d stay with me.”
Taurin hoped his smile wasn’t as feral as it felt. “Start the fantasy without me. I’ll catch up.”
Holgarth harrumphed loudly to show his displeasure that someone had shifted attention away from his pompous self. He adjusted his tall conical hat, smoothed his fingers over his long pointed gray beard, and then dramatically swirled his gold-trimmed blue robe around himself. “I was telling Ms. Hughes that she’s unlikely to find anything worth writing about here. We’re all ordinary down-home folks trying to entertain the masses.”
Eric turned away as he tried to stifle his bark of laughter.
Holgarth frowned at the strangled sounds Eric was making. “Of course, I’ve managed to rise above the ordinary. So if you ever feel the need for a truly Pulitzerworthy story, I’ll try to make time in my busy schedule to accommodate you.”
“Uh, thanks. I guess.” Kristin cast Taurin a frantic glance.
Before Holgarth could lay any lies on her, Taurin grabbed Kristin’s hand and dragged her off to the costume room. “Tell me what you’d like to be. All our fantasies take place in a medieval setting. We have virgin bride costumes, slave girl costumes, queen’s handmaiden costumes, sacrificial—”
“Vampire slayer costume.”
“What?”
“I did research on the Castle of Dark Dreams, and I know that Eric the Evil takes the form of a vampire. So I want to be a slayer.” She glanced around. “No offense, but all the women’s costumes here whimper, ‘I am door-mat, see me grovel.’ ” She flipped through the costumes. “Sexist, sexist, sexist. The PC police need an anonymous call. Isn’t there a queen’s costume here somewhere?”
“We already have a queen.” It was hard talking through gritted teeth. Crap and double crap. He’d been pulling for the slave girl costume. “And medieval times were sexist. No Buffys hanging on corners. We don’t have any costumes—”
“I’ll wear this.” Kristin pulled a costume from the rack. “And I’ll need a wooden stake.” She looked thoughtful. “Guess you don’t have a cross or some holy water.”
No way was he putting a pointed object in her evil little hands. “Sorry, all out of religious symbols. Ditto for wooden stakes.” What the hell was that costume all about? “You’re going to wear a pair of baggy pants, an oversized shirt, and a long brown robe?” Not very sexy for someone who was looking for sex, hoping for sex, and dying to write a sensational story about sex. Yeah, so he was bitter.
“Mmm.” She headed for one of the dressing cubicles. “I’m disguised as a boy because women were forbidden to be vampire slayers in medieval times.”
Taurin tried to sound doubtful. Frustrated teeth-grinding wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Not your usual fantasy. Besides, Conall always destroys the vampire.”
“Not this time.” Kristin’s sensual mouth was set in a stubborn line. “Conall can get there in time to exclaim over the wonder of a mere woman taking out the undead.”
He watched her disappear behind the cubicle’s curtain before yanking his costume off the rack. Then with a muttered curse, he stepped into a cubicle.
Why the hell was he so mad? She could wear a sack for all he cared. He’d be naked enough for both of them. Stripping off his clothes, he pulled the cape around him. Then he paused.
No, he wouldn’t let her make him completely crazy. Eric was right. What if someone other than Kristin got a glance at what wasn’t under his cape? Picking up his jeans, he pulled out his cell phone and called Eric. When Eric answered, Taurin didn’t give him time to talk.
“Don’t ask questions. I need a swimsuit. Any swimsuit. And make it fast.” As he whispered into the phone, Taurin looked out to make sure Kristin was still busy changing.
“Decided to hedge your bets?” Eric sounded amused. “Why not just keep your underwear on?”
Taurin let the silence pile up behind Eric’s question. He could feel Eric processing the silence and then his expected hoot of laughter.
Taurin hoped Eric could feel the frost collecting on the other end of the line. “Hot handymen don’t need underwear.” He shut Eric off in mid-guffaw.
He listened to the sounds of Kristin sliding the curtain back from her cubicle. She paused outside his curtain.
“You ready yet?”
“No.” He could hear her rooting through some of the props. “Go on out. Holgarth will get you started on the fantasy. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
“Okay.” There was an ominous clanking noise before she opened the door and left.
When Eric suddenly appeared in front of him, Taurin barely flinched. Preternatural speed was one of the perks of being a vampire. He’d never appreciated it more than he did now. “Let’s have it.” He held out his hand.
Eric gave him a small piece of metallic blue material sporting gold suns, moons, and stars. “Holgarth’s. The best I could do on short notice.”
Taurin stared at it. “Holgarth wears this?” He shut down all mental images. Nope, didn’t want to go there ever.
“Yep.” Eric was enjoying this way too much. “Hey, don’t complain. This whole plan was your idea.”
Taurin waited for Eric to leave, and then with a muttered curse, he pulled on the tiny blue stretchy abomination, all the while trying not to picture Holgarth leaping into the pool wearing only his blue wizard’s hat and matching swimsuit.
Baring his fangs, Taurin pulled his cape closed and left the room in search of Kristin. She’d pay for this. Oh, yeah, she’d really pay.
He smiled.
CHAPTER TWO
“Madam, you will go directly to the dungeon. You will not pass Go, and you definitely will not collect two hundred dollars.” Holgarth pursed his thin lips and pierced her with his beady-eyed glare. “And may I say that you have abysmal taste in costumes. Perhaps you intend to audition for Monks Gone Wild?”
Kristin narrowed her eyes to angry slits. “Whatever happened to ‘the customer is always right’?”
Holgarth arched one supercilious brow. “Customers are rarely right. They need guidance. I’m positive that our handsome prince will have zero incentive to save your little behind—although one can’t quite judge the scope of your derriere in that hideous outfit—when he has so many other beautifully garbed maidens from whom to choose.”
“Handsome prince. Whoopee.” Amazing. He’d reduced her to a sulky ten-year-old with his formidable sarcasm. You had to respect that kind of power.<
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The wizard’s harrumph expressed his supreme disapproval. “Most women are ecstatic at the chance to have a brave warrior engage an evil vampire in battle for their honor. And they welcome the handsome prince with the pitiful hope that he will bring them—dare I say it—ultimate bliss.”
“Gag me. That is so pathetic.” For just a teeny, tiny moment, the possibility of “ultimate bliss” with her hot handyman did skitter across her consciousness, but she whacked it with her mental broom before it could take her out of focus-on-the-job mode.
“I don’t need a man to save me, and no way is anyone carrying me anywhere.” She could picture the handsome prince grunting mightily as he tried to heave her into his arms. The visual made her smile. Okay, so she hadn’t lost her sense of humor completely.
Holgarth didn’t deign to argue as he eyed her weapon of choice. “My God, woman, what do you intend to do with that?”
“Slay the evil vampire myself.” Kristin frowned at the huge sword. It was so heavy she had to drag it along the floor. She was counting on the adrenaline rush of battle to help her heft the dumb hunk of metal. “I think your warrior guy would have it easier if the castle stocked things like crosses, garlic, holy water, and wooden stakes.”
“Where’s the passion in a clove of garlic?” Holgarth looked down his long nose at her. “Medieval times were hardly romantic, although most women enjoy suspending their disbelief for a short time. But if you fancy yourself a warrior princess, I think we have an old Xena costume somewhere.” His contemptuous sniff said that warrior princesses were so five minutes ago.
“The sword will have to go, though. We’ll be lucky if you don’t decapitate someone. Hopefully it won’t be you. I do not want to defend the castle against a messy lawsuit. Do you think your family would be open to a discreet out-of-court settlement?” He seemed to brighten at the possibility of her decapitation without legal consequences.
Kristin closed her eyes for a moment to gather her wits, which seemed to have fled to places unknown. What was her problem? And why was she dressed in this ridiculous brown robe while she dragged a really big phallic symbol behind her? Jeez, she was here to find sex, and she didn’t think she’d find much of it dressed like a frumpy paper sack. A scary truth hid just out of sight, but she didn’t have time right now for deep introspection.
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