Love You to Death, a vampomanticomedy. (Scheduled for independent release in December 2013.)
Chapter One
"Houston, we
have a problem. Come on, open up!"
Cecilia Houston wished she didn’t have such a close
relationship with her landlord. For one
thing, it would mean he wouldn’t pound on her apartment door at one in the
morning for romantic advice.
For another, it
would mean Duke Bellingham wouldn’t always see her at her worst. Like now, when
she answered his summons in her ratty green bathrobe, hair in snarls, with dirty-bottomed socks hanging in swaths around
her ankles. Just once, she wanted to
swing open her door and have him see her looking halfway-decent instead of
mostly-wrecked.
"Come on,
Houston. I have two pints of Hunka Chunka Burning Fudge here. My hands are
getting frostbite."
"I’m coming,
Duke. Hold your wad, will you?" She slid the bolt lock out of place and
clicked open the door. She turned away without looking, and shuffled to the
couch where she collapsed, tugging a fleecy blanket over her body. "Is
there any particular reason you always show up past midnight? Are you a vampire?
Don’t you ever sleep?" She pulled the blanket over her head and closed her
eyes. Maybe if she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see her and he’d go away.
"Sure. During
the day." He moved into the room and tugged the blanket off her head.
"Here. Ice cream. Yum." He pushed the container of Hunka Chunka under
the neckline of her robe. She shrieked and pushed him away, wide-awake and
freezing, now. "Damn you, Duke!"
"Chill, Ceci.
Here’s a spoon." He dropped it onto her lap, then fell into the armchair
positioned at a right angle to the couch and swung his long, jean-clad legs
onto her coffee table. Then he crossed his big, cowboy-booted feet. "You
love me. Don’t deny it."
"I hate
you." She readjusted her fuzzy blanket.
"Ha." Duke
pushed the bowl of his spoon upside down into his mouth and sucked on it,
tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. How the man could suck on a
spoon and not make it look like gay porn was beyond her.
Ceci sat up and
tried to ignore the sexy curve of his lips or the five-o’clock-shadowed curve
of his neck, by pulling the cover off her pint of ice cream and shoveling her
spoon through it. Coffee ice cream, chunks of toffee, swirled through with
fudge. Heaven in a cardboard carton. Annoying as the man was, he did have excellent taste in frozen
confections. "So what’s the problem tonight, Space Cadet?"
"The usual,
Houston. I’ve got writer’s block." He tilted his head to peer at her
through long, dark lashes. "I need a woman’s insight."
"Again? Don’t
you have any other female friends you can bother at one a.m.?" She poked
her spoon around a clump of frozen toffee and fudge. Since moving into Duke’s
house eight months earlier, she’d gained twelve pounds. Another reason to hate
him.
If only he wasn't
so…desirable. Jerk.
I wonder if I could
convince him to bring carrot sticks instead of ice cream, she mused. Then
again, would she rise from her bed for raw vegetables? Of course not.
Damn Duke. He knew
exactly how to manipulate her into doing his bidding.
"Please,
Ceci-Doll. You know you’re the only
woman for me." He waved the spoon like a conductor with a baton.
"Bullcookies,
Bellingham."
"See? You’re
such a lady. Okay, here’s the set up. Louisa is at the masked ball. She sees
the Baron across the room. He sees her."
"Across the
crowded ballroom?"
"Exactly."
She closed her eyes
and savored a swirl of fudge, trying to put herself in Duke’s book. When she
first found out he wrote romance, she’d thought it was weird. But now--it just
was what he did. He enjoyed the challenge of writing for women, he said.
He enjoyed the
attention he received from the women he wrote for was more like it. He was as
handsome as one of the models on his covers and, she imagined, had women
dropping like flies at book signings.
Come to think of it,
they probably dropped money, too. Lord knew, she would. She did. She owned every single one of his
books and she'd had to buy them all. Not only was he annoying, he was cheap. But his books weren't.
Still, once she'd
read one, she had to read them all. They were that good.
So it wasn’t
difficult to picture his character, the Baron; he looked exactly like Duke,
except he wore a cravat instead of a sweatshirt with Hahvahd silk-screened across the chest. The Baron’s hair was
probably neater, too.
Unfortunate. Ceci liked Duke’s shaggy dark hair; the little curls
that stuck up here and there like horns. A demon. The man looks like a demon and you know
it, Ceci.
Only because he was
so temptingly hot.
She peered him to
see him studying her with eyes as black as sin and deep enough to drown in. She
could imagine him, bare-chested, holding himself above her on strong arms and
watching her with those eyes, just before he thrust his--No! No, no, no. You promised yourself you wouldn’t think about how sexy
he was. You know that’s only going to get you nowhere. He’s only interested in
you as a sounding board. Emphasis on board. As in, ‘flat as a’. So give it up and
eat your ice cream. She sighed and closed her eyes again. "Okay. So
they see each other. Then what happens?"
"Well, I need
to know. Her body reacts to the sight of him. So. What does that mean? Her
heart begins to pound, her breath quickens, her breasts swell, her knees grow
weak and --"
"Whoa. Back up
there, cowboy. Her breasts swell?"
Ceci opened her eyes to stare at him. "Like balloons?"
Duke shrugged and
waved his spoon like a flag. "She’s hot for him."
"Listen,
Bellingham, I’ve been a woman my whole life and it doesn’t matter how hot I am
for a guy, my breasts have never
swelled."
His gaze dropped
down to the front of her robe, paused, then moved back to her face. He raised
his eyebrows and gestured with his spoon. "She’s amply-proportioned."
"And your point
is?" Ceci felt a flush swoop up her neck and over her face.
"Not for
nothing, Houston, but have you ever looked
at your breasts? They’re not exactly the swelling kind."
Ceci leaped to her
feet and pointed at the door with her pint of ice cream. "All right.
That’s it. Out!"
"Aw, come on,
Ceci-Doll. You know I didn’t mean anything by it--"
"Don’t you Ceci-Doll me, you freak. Out." Ceci
pushed his legs off her coffee table; his feet landed with a bang on the floor,
making the windows rattle in their panes. "Out, Bellingham. Some of us have to get up and go to work in the
morning." She cast around for and finally found the lid for the ice cream.
"And take this stuff with you."
He got up with
obvious reluctance. "You work from home. You don't have to go anywhere."
She glared and
pointed at the door until her index finger cramped.
He rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh.
"All right. I’ll go." He took
the pint she thrust at him. "But I just got here."
"I don’t care,
Bellingham. You can just leave."
"I’ll only come
back tomorrow, you know." He started toward the door.
"I’ll only not
let you in."
He paused and turned
to peer down at her. "You will, too. You know you will."
"Only because
I’m half-asleep and don’t know what I’m doing." She put her hand on the
small of his back and pushed. He was hard as a rock and as big as a boulder,
only with nice proportions. Broad shoulders, narrow waist…she’d love to see him
shirtless.
She’d love to wrap
her legs around his waist.
She’d love for him
to get the hell out of her apartment before she did something stupid, like rip
his clothes off his gorgeous bod and have her way with him. "Please, Duke.
I’m tired."
"Ha. I knew it.
You still love me."
"Good night,
Duke."
"You love
having me come and bother you like this."
"Good night, Duke."
"Good night,
Ceci-Doll." He bent and pressed a kiss to her cheek; the feel of his
ice-cream chilled lips made her shiver. "See you tomorrow."
"Earlier, I
hope?"
"Of course, my
dear." Duke lifted the ice cream from her hand. "Good night." He
opened her door and slipped out into the hall. "Sweet dreams."
Oh, she’d dream all
right, in dreams that were anything but
sweet. She closed the door behind him and locked it tightly, then leaned
against it and sighed. Houston, you
definitely have a problem.
* * * *
No comments:
Post a Comment