Real Vampires Hate Their Thighs (28 page)

“Like hell. I hope the TV show’s makeup artist is genius enough to cover this if I don’t heal in my sleep.” I shuddered. “I’ve seen enough.” I hit the off button and shut the webcam. “What’s that?”

“Aloe. I figure if you’re reacting like a mortal these days, might as well try a mortal treatment. Smear some on and see if that takes the sting out.” He held it out to me.

“Thanks, Rafe. Will you do it for me?” I tried to think about the implications of what had just happened. I was staying awake during the day. Rafe thought Ian’s video had been a fake, but MacDonald had warned us that direct rays of sunlight were dangerous. We could only
watch
the day from safely inside somewhere. Or, like Ian, from under a cabana.

Ray would love that. And now he’d get the scoop. Rafe was charming, but Brittany was bound to tell the man who signed her paychecks about my early-morning adventure. Well, why not? As long as Ray had guards to keep him from sleepwalking into a fiery death, he may as well try the daylight drug. But would it work like it should? My diet drug had proved to be unpredictable as hell.

Now I was mad. I didn’t sign up for this. I was just supposed to lose some weight. Why was this other stuff happening?

Maybe I
should
encourage Jerry and the Campbells to wipe Ian MacDonald and his weird supplements off the face of the earth. If Valdez hadn’t been here . . .

I shuddered again and closed my eyes. Rafe’s fingers touched my skin as he gently rubbed the ointment on my face. I sighed and relaxed against my pillow.

“Does that help?” His deep voice reminded me that he was still in human form. He sounded slightly different, more growly, when he took on his dog persona.

“Yes, thanks.” I opened my eyes and saw his concern. Funny how his warm brown eyes could be looking at me from the face of a dog or bat or whatever, yet I always saw the same intense loyalty and caring there. I reached for his hand and squeezed his strong fingers.

“Listen, Rafe, don’t let this come between you and Brittany. She’s just doing her job. I know where her loyalty has to lie.”

“And she knows who I’m loyal to. Always.” Rafe set the ointment on the bedside table. “Brit and I have different priorities. Our relationship amounts to nothing but some fun and games when we have the time, which is rarely.” He shrugged, muscles rippling across his broad shoulders. “I let that relationship get in the way of my job and it almost cost you your life, Glory. Maybe you’d be better off with another bodyguard, someone who’s more focused, more professional.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” I sat up and slipped my hand from his. “We’ve been through too much together. Besides, I don’t see how you can take any blame here. You had no idea I was going to get up.”

“Why not? You got up before. I knew that and should have been ready.” He got up and paced restlessly around the room, shoving his hands into his pockets. Oops, shouldn’t have done that. Those jeans were barely hanging on. I forced myself to concentrate on what he was saying.

“Instead I took advantage of Brit’s night off. Invited her to hang out. If she hadn’t been here with me, she wouldn’t have seen you sleepwalking. Now you’ll have to deal with Caine wanting to try MacDonald’s daylight drug. Clearly I need to focus on what’s important now. Brittany’s a distraction I can’t afford.”

“It doesn’t seem fair. You deserve a life too, you know.” And I’m sure Brittany had been happy to hang out with this man who prowled around the room while I held my breath, hoping gravity would do a number on those worn jeans. Can you blame me?

He had the same handsome good looks of the Latin pop star who’d stopped by the suite one night. Put a guitar in Rafe’s hands and he could take over the South American market.

I was pretty sure that when both guards knew their vampires truly slept like the undead, they shifted into whatever form they liked for their mutual satisfaction. The very thought made me sigh. I realized Rafe had stopped pacing and stared at me.

“What?”

“Sleepy yet?”

“No. And I want you to quit beating yourself up over what happened tonight. You have a tough job, Rafe. I’m sure you’ll be glad when your contract is up and you can move on to something else.” I smiled. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for the five years you’ve given me. I hope you know our friendship goes way beyond this bodyguard thing.”

“Sure. It’s been fun. And scary and, well, not dull anyway.” He grinned, his dimples showing as he stopped by my side of the bed again. “With you I’ve always felt like the straight man in one of those stoner films. Can’t wait to see what crazy thing you’ll get us into next, Glory.”

“Aw, come on, now. Surely I haven’t been that bad.” I hit his hard thigh.

“Not always. Lately you’ve been taking charge of your own life. Using your powers. Not letting guys like Blade or that boyfriend you had in Vegas take advantage of your good nature. High time, I’d say.” He stared at me, not smiling. “You know what I mean?”

“Yes. Guess I’m finally figuring out who I am.” I’d wasted a lot of years pretending I was a mortal who happened to have fangs and a liquid diet when I had the potential to be so much more. And a lot of years clinging to some old Glory ways that included dependency issues. Still had some of those. Which was why Jerry thought he needed to provide guys like Rafe for my protection. Lucky for me if today was an example.

Rafe stretched. “You need to sleep. And I wasn’t kidding about being right here on the floor. It’s no hardship for me. I’m used to it. I may even sleep myself knowing you can’t get loose and do yourself any more harm.” He walked over to the door and turned the lock. “I’m locking you in. I’ll hear you if you somehow get off the foot of the bed or over Caine on the other side and try to make a break for it.”

“Wow, you must really think I want to roam.”

“I don’t know what you want, Glory St. Clair. And that’s a fact.” His smile was a little off center, then—boom!—he turned back into Valdez the dog.

I pulled up the covers and snuggled down, desperate to sleep, to heal. Tomorrow night was going to be big for me. But I lay there for a long while listening to my bodyguard breathing on the floor beside me. The throbbing in my cheek reminded me why I needed him there. He did make me feel completely safe. I just wondered why Valdez had never shown up in my dreams. What did that mean?

I woke with a jolt and took stock. No aches, no pains. Hey, I actually felt like the old Glory. Refreshed. Full of energy. A quick look in the webcam assured me that my face had healed. Yes! I ran to weigh in and had kept the weight off. Even better.

I shampooed my hair again and blew it dry this time. I knew the stylist for the show would do more with it, but at least it would be ready for her to work with. I sniffed the new concoction Ian had left and decided not to chance it. Maybe after the crew from the show left.

Ray headed out soon after he got up. More rehearsals and an appearance on a talk show. It had been tough getting even one gig, when some of Ray’s competition were doing them nonstop. Most of the shows taped during the day and Nathan had been getting flack from Barry over that problem. I’d had to listen to Ray’s complaints while he got ready. I didn’t mention the daylight drug. We were both in a hurry. That was my excuse anyway.

“They’re here, Glory.” Barry’s assistant, Bethany, rushed in, bringing the hairstylist and makeup artist with her. “Thirty minutes, people. This is so exciting. Glory, wait till you see the designs! You’ll freak.”

“In a good way or bad, Beth?”

“I’ll never tell.” She giggled and rushed back out to the living room, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

I turned myself over to the two professionals, making excuses why I didn’t want to look in the mirror when they were done. By the time I walked out to the living room, my stomach was knotted, but this time it was nerves and not from exercise.

My cell rang just as I was ready for the first fitting.

“Hello.” I made a face at the exasperated producer who kept pointing to his watch.

“Glory, are you coming out here tonight or do you need for me to come to you again? Ian can’t make it, but I can bring the supplements with me.” Trina sounded her usual happy self. “I hope your friend Flo won’t be there. She doesn’t like me.”

“Uh, I’m in the middle of something.” I looked at the producer. “What time will we be finished here?”

“I have no idea, Ms. St. Clair.” He looked significantly at my phone. “Depends on how many interruptions we have to endure.”

“Come here and make it late. Do your run first. I can’t go with you. Too much happening here. Make it about four thirty. Got to go.” I hung up and realized I could actually afford to lose a few more pounds before the big night. Sweet. I heard the producer clear his throat. “I’m turning off my cell now.” I smiled. “So sorry about that.”

“Four thirty. Do you ever sleep?” The makeup artist brushed some powder on my chin and forehead. “Guess so. You’re glowing.” She smiled. “Glory’s good to go.”

“All right, people, let’s roll.”

Zia swept in and looked me over. “What’s happened to you, Glory? Those are skinny jeans.”

I laughed and felt my cheeks go warm. “I’ve been dieting, Zia.”

“So you said. But you’ve lost so much so fast.” Zia put her hand on my elbow and turned me around. “What’s your secret?”

By the time I’d made a full circle, I realized they’d started filming. “I’ve been working really hard. And I’ve had a doctor’s supervision.”

“Oh, of course. There are many wonderful doctors in L.A., aren’t there, Glory?” Zia would’ve raised her eyebrows but she’d obviously been freshly Botoxed. “I’m sure our audience would love for you to name names. He’s obviously very . . . skilled.” She was smirking.

“I told you it was a diet, Zia, no surgery involved. Isn’t it time for me to see my dresses?” I looked longingly toward the hall where I knew they’d stashed the three designers.

“Cut. She’s right. Let’s set up for those shots.” The director began issuing orders to rearrange the living room.

The plan was for me to look over each designer’s offering, then try it on in the bedroom. I would emerge and there would be a fitting along with my overall impressions. It was decided that I would sit in a club chair in front of the balcony doors. Someone rolled in an empty rack to hang the dress and accessories on and naturally they brought in the dreaded mirror.

“Can I ask a favor?” I gestured for a producer to come over.

“What is it, Glory? Do you need a water?” The producer snapped his fingers and three assistants scurried to his side.

“No, no, it’s just that I don’t like the mirror.”

“Why?” The producer looked puzzled. “Isn’t it big enough?” He frowned at the group and they all groaned. “Where did you get this piece of crap?”

“No, not that. It’s fine, but it seems so cliché, don’t you see? I’d rather just look at the dress on the rack, try it on and feel it on me, then look into the camera and say what I think. Tomorrow night maybe we can bring Ray in to help with the final decision. I could do a kind of runway turn for him.” I prayed Ray would do it. He’d been hungry for media exposure. Maybe this would help make up for those lost opportunities on the talk show circuit.

Zia was suddenly interested in me again.

“Israel Caine would help make the decision?” Her eyes lit up. “Do whatever she says, Lee.”

“Lose the mirror. Hurry.” The producer looked around to assure himself that everything was in place. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Melanie! You’re up!” an assistant yelled.

Melanie came rushing in with a garment bag and a large tote. She hung up the bag, then started unloading a pair of shoes, an evening bag and jewelry. Finally, she unzipped the bag and pulled out the dress.

I sat back and stared. Okay. For starters it was blue. I love blue. Good choice. Low cut. Another smart decision. Some kind of sheer printed material filled in the space between the breasts and formed the long sleeves. Strange, but I could deal with it. Then there were the gold beaded and embroidered shoulder pads, perfect for a linebacker who liked bling on his uniform. Melanie had obviously been inspired by the recent Super Bowl.

She’d cinched in the waist with a wide belt with the buckle in the shape of a star. Okay, Ray is a star. Nice message but the belt was too big, of course. Gold stars marched down the front of the skirt to the hem. I figured this was designed to make me look taller and slimmer. I was going to try it on, obviously. But I wasn’t sure about it. At all.

I smiled and commented on what I liked. Then Melanie carried it to the bedroom. An assistant helped me into it. It was too big everywhere. Yay! But that meant that my boobs were pretty well exposed and I had to go out for the cameras. Melanie started wringing her hands and muttering when I emerged.

“I’m sorry, Melanie, but I’ve been dieting. Obviously you’re going to have to take it in a few inches.” I hid a smile, not a bit sorry, as I held the front together enough for modesty.