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The one I’ve only ever seen her smile for me…
Chapter 7
Annie
I’ve never been that girl, the one who turns heads when she steps into a room.
Even when Colin and I were in the thick of our fake engagement festivities and I dressed in gorgeous gowns he selected for me every night, other people’s eyes skimmed over me without settling for more than a moment or two.
But that was before this fire started burning inside of me, before I realized just how far out of my comfort zone I’m willing to go in the name of getting Baron to see me as more than a mistake he made one cold, lonely night.
I step into the grand foyer in the Blackmore mansion wearing the clingy, black silk dress Casey insisted I borrow and my favorite pair of cat’s-eye glasses and every head in the room swivels my way. And yes, I’m wearing deep red lipstick and a touch of glitter eyeshadow and the dress’s plunging neckline shows more cleavage than I realized I possessed until Casey taped my breasts together with some magical bra-type sticker thing she pulled from her bag, but I’m still just me.
Just Annie. The plainest of the Wonderfully sisters, the girl the male of the species has been happily overlooking since I was a teenager.
“See,” Casey whispers, a smug grin curving her lips. “I told you. It’s a vibe, woman, and you are vibing hard tonight. Baron’s going to take one look at you and drop to his knees to beg for another date.”
I discreetly slap her hand as we move through the arched passage under the stairs toward the heated tents set up on the back lawn. “Hush. Vampires have very sensitive ears. And they love to gossip even more than witches do.”
She chuckles. “Do you think it’s all witches or just our family? I mean, we grew up without a television. What was there to do aside from gossip and fight over toys and food?”
“We didn’t fight all the time,” I say. “Only when we were really bored or hungry.”
Casey sighs. “True. But I’m still glad that Amy won’t have to grow up the same way. I might not ever be able to give her siblings, but at least I can give her food, shelter, and a mother who doesn’t vanish into thin air when the going gets tough. I know it’s not good manners to speak ill of the dead, but I can’t believe Mom thought it was okay to leave you and Blaire alone with the rest of us when we were babies. You were practically babies yourselves. She’s lucky she didn’t come back to find the cottage burned down and our charred corpses in the middle of the wreckage.”
For a moment, I consider telling her what Sophie shared with me during the hunt for Blaire—that she’s fairly certain our mother is still alive and will be returning to us in the spring—but decide against it.
A crowded party isn’t the place for that discussion, and I’m suddenly fidgety, prickly all over and fighting to keep my focus on the conversation.
As we step into the tent, the source of my agitation becomes apparent. I spot Baron on the other side of the dance floor and my breath rushes from my lungs. Simply being in the same giant tent with the man is enough to make me feel almost-painfully alive.
In a suit tailored to accommodate his broad shoulders and a freshly trimmed beard, he’s even more striking than usual. As our eyes lock, heat sweeps over my skin. He’s the only man in the room who hasn’t so much as glanced at the deep V at the front of my dress, but it doesn’t matter. My breasts respond to his presence the way they always do, my nipples tightening in a silent invitation to rip my clothes off and pop them into his mouth.
“Wow,” Casey mutters, giving my elbow a gentle squeeze. “Are you sure no one realizes you guys are an item? Because I’m pretty sure the air between the two of you is about to catch fire.”
With effort, I rip my gaze from Baron’s, following Casey toward the champagne fountain on the right side of the tent. “No, they don’t. At least I don’t think so.” I sigh. “But isn’t he the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”
Casey’s lips twitch. “He’s a little bulky and…Cro-Magnon for my personal taste, but the way he looks at you is beautiful. He clearly thinks the world of you, babes. I’m guessing this seduction won’t be nearly as difficult as you think it’s going to be.”
“You don’t know him,” I whisper. “He excels at depriving himself of joy, mercy, and all creature comforts. He doesn’t even have a proper bed or a dehumidifier in his root cellar where he sleeps to keep it from smelling like old potatoes.”
Taking two long, slim glasses of champagne from the bartender, Casey turns back to me with a soft grunt. “Gotcha. So, letting himself love and be loved won’t be an easy sell.”
I wave away the drink with a softly murmured, “I’m too nervous,” grateful I’ve never been much of a drinker. My avoiding alcohol shouldn’t arouse suspicion, a hunch Casey proves when she shrugs and drains one glass in three elegant gulps before setting it back on the bar with a “thank you,” and a five-dollar bill from her cleavage.
“Oh, you shouldn’t,” I whisper. “The vampires think it’s tacky to tip at parties.”
“I don’t care,” she says pleasantly. “I always tip. I’m a tipper; it’s my nature. Just like it’s your nature to play by the rules.” She taps a thoughtful finger to her chin as we move to stand near two potted evergreen trees strung with tiny white lights near the wall of the tent. “Which is part of your charm, but you might need to step outside your comfort zone this time. Shake things up a little. I don’t think your man will be won by coloring inside the lines.”
“I agree. I was actually thinking this morning, after our talk, that I—”
“Pardon me. I hate to interrupt, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been so eager for an introduction.” The man’s silky English accent glides across my skin like a caress, making me shiver as I turn to see the most gorgeous man in the world standing behind me. His lips curve in a smile I suspect is capable of melting hearts at first sight as he adds, “I’m Edmond. You must be Annie and Casey Wonderfully, sisters to our town savior.”
I have absolutely no interest in any man but Baron, but even I can’t help being dumbstruck by this man’s face. He looks like the love child of a 1940s movie star and a really sexy lion. His lips are a study in expert linework and his skin glows like he swallowed the moon, but it refused to be digested because it couldn’t bear to leave this gorgeous man’s intestinal tract.
I’m silently wagering that even his bowels are gorgeous, when Casey makes a choking sound and stammers, “P-pardon me but I… I have to go. Right now.”
A beat later, she’s circled the man and disappeared into the thickening crowd without so much as a “see you later, Annie,” leaving me alone with the Vampire Moon Lion Sex God and his glorious intestines.
