The Reluctant Vampire (5 page)
Stephanie peered at Harper curiously. “So what’s the root name?”
“I believe it was Argentum, which means silver in Latin,” Harper said solemnly. “It was because their eyes are silver-blue.”
“They named people for their eye color?” Stephanie asked with disbelief.
Harper chuckled at her expression. “Back then they didn’t really have last names. They were mostly first names and then descriptors, like John the barber, or Jack the butcher, or Harold the brave and so on.”
“So it was Lucian the silver?” she asked dubiously.
“Something like that,” Harper said with a shrug.
“Hmm.” Stephanie swung around to peer at Drina. “And you’re a rogue hunter in Spain?”
Drina nodded.
“Is it different than being a rogue hunter here?”
Drina raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know. It doesn’t appear to be so far.”
“They have different laws in Europe,” Harper put in quietly.
“Like what?” Stephanie asked, turning back to him.
“Biting mortals is not outlawed there,” Drina answered stiffly when Harper hesitated. She knew that was the reason for the hesitation. It was a bit of an issue between the North American council and the European one.
“You can bite people over there?” Stephanie frowned. “So Leonius wouldn’t be rogue in Europe?”
“I said bite, not kill or turn. Trust me, Leonius would be rogue anywhere,” she said dryly, and then sighed. “So long as they are discreet and don’t unduly harm the mortal, immortals can bite mortals in Europe. Although,” she added firmly, “while they haven’t yet outlawed it, it is somewhat frowned upon by most, and the majority of immortals stick mainly to bagged blood.”
“Have you bitten mortals?” Stephanie asked curiously.
“Of course,” she said stiffly. “I was born long before there were blood banks.”
“But since blood banks, have you bitten them?” Stephanie persisted.
Drina grimaced, but reluctantly admitted, “Only consenting adults.”
Stephanie’s eyes widened, and she squealed, “She means during sex.”
Drina blinked. That hadn’t been what she’d meant at all. She’d been thinking of the occasional formal dinners at the homes of council higher-ups, which sometimes included willing bitees for the guests to feed on. It was something she wasn’t very comfortable with anymore but was expected to participate in when forced to attend . . . and Stephanie should know that. She could read her mind. And she’d read it earlier, so knew it had been eons since she’d bothered with sex. Drina eyed Stephanie quizzically, wondering what the girl was up to.
“I don’t know why everyone thinks it’s so hot to get naked and sweaty and sink their teeth into each other,” Stephanie was saying with disgust, and then she glanced at Harper, and said, “I mean, imagine you were alone with Drina getting busy. You’re both naked and hot and she crawls onto your lap, her naked boobs jiggling in your face . . . Would you really want to plunge your fangs into them?”
“Er . . .”
Drina swung her gaze to the rearview mirror to see that Harper looked quite overset. His face was flushed, his eyes glazed, and then he suddenly swung the steering wheel and brought the car to a halt with a jerk.
“We’re here,” Harper choked out, practically throwing himself out of the vehicle and slamming the door with a resounding thud.
“You little devil,” Drina muttered watching Harper stagger toward the store.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Stephanie said with a grin. “Now he’s thinking of having sex with you.”
Drina turned her gaze to the girl, eyeing her thoughtfully. “You’re kind of evil.”
Stephanie took it as a compliment and grinned as she got out of the car.
Harper stepped through Wal-Mart’s sliding doors, and then paused as Stephanie sped past him to pull a cart from a small collection of them waiting directly ahead. Shifting uncomfortably, he glanced around, his gaze barely touching on Drina before it slipped away. “I can probably find something to entertain myself with in the video department if you girls would rather shop without me trailing you around.”
“Oh, no,” Stephanie protested. “It won’t be as much fun without you, Harper. Besides, a guy’s opinion is always vital when it comes to fashion.”
“Vital, huh?” he said with a faint smile.
“Very vital. My dad always said no woman can tell another woman what looks best on her, only a man can,” she assured him. “And Drina and I want to look our best in case we run into some hunky guys when she takes me to lunch.”
“Lunch?” he asked with a frown.
“Oh.” Stephanie frowned. “Well, she promised we’d go to lunch after shopping, but that was when we were going by ourselves. I suppose that’s out now,” she added, her head lowering with disappointment.
“I’ll take you both to lunch,” Harper said quickly when her lower lip began to tremble.
“Really?” Stephanie brightened at once. Beaming happily, she gave him a hug. “Thank you, Harper. Here, you can push the cart while Drina and I throw clothes in. It will give you something to do. Come on, Drina. I need scads of clothes.”
“Hmm,” Harper muttered, taking her place at the cart when she danced out in front of it to lead the way. He had the distinct impression he’d been played here, an impression that only solidified when Drina chuckled “sucker” in a soft voice as she followed Stephanie into the aisles.
Harper shook his head and followed the pair, sighing when he realized his eyes had seemed to fasten on Drina’s behind and appeared unwilling to leave it. It was Stephanie’s fault. That business about being naked and sweaty with Drina, getting it on, and her crawling in his lap, her breasts jiggling . . . Would he want to plunge his fangs into her? The girl’s words had painted a picture in his head of the two of them entwined on the sheets of his bed, Drina straddling his lap facing him and his plunging more than just his fangs into her. It had been a rather invigorating image that had left him hot, flushed, flustered, breathless, and damnably excited. And hell yes, he’d have wanted to sink his fangs in her, as well as other things. The thought had so startled Harper that he hadn’t been able to get out of the car, and away from the image, fast enough. Unfortunately, the image was following him.
He supposed it didn’t help that he’d accidentally seen just how round and full those jiggling breasts would be if she were to crawl naked into his lap. The image of her on her hands and knees on the snowy driveway, top gaping and revealing her lovely curves, now flashed into his mind again.
Sighing, Harper forced his eyes from Drina’s behind and up to her face with some effort as she paused to examine some item of clothing they’d approached. From the glimpse he’d got of her face in the rearview mirror, Drina hadn’t looked nearly as affected by the image Stephanie had painted of them as he had. If anything, her expression as she’d peered toward Stephanie had been rather confused, though he wasn’t sure why.
“What do you think, Harper?”
Blinking, he shifted his attention to Stephanie and raised an eyebrow uncertainly. “What do I think of what?”
“Of these,” Stephanie said with a laugh, and held a pair of panties in front of Drina’s groin. They were red silk with black lace trimming. “Do you think men would find her attractive in these? There’s a matching bra too.” She held that up in front of Drina’s breasts next and peered at the effect with a tilted head. “I think they’re gorgeous, but Drina says the material of the bra is too flimsy and her nipples would show through when it’s cold. Do men mind nipple bumps?”
“I—” Harper stared, his mind suddenly on hiatus as he imagined Drina in the outfit, her nipples erect and pressing the material outward. “Don’t—”
“See, he said ‘I don’t.’ I told you men don’t mind nipple bumps,” Stephanie said with a laugh, and tossed the bra and panties into the cart.
Harper stared helplessly at the scraps of material and shook his head. He hadn’t meant he didn’t mind nipple bumps. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he’d meant. Please don’t do this to me, maybe. The girl was . . . well, he didn’t know what to think of Stephanie. She had been quiet and sad-looking when she’d first arrived in Port Henry, but had blossomed a bit under Elvi’s and Mabel’s attention before they’d left. However, she appeared to have really come out of her shell with Drina’s arrival and was being rather precocious. He didn’t think she had a clue how her suggestions and words were affecting him, though. No doubt she was young enough that she really thought a man could just look at this stuff without it affecting him, but—
His gaze shot to Drina, and he wondered what she was making of all this. He’d been too busy looking at the material in front of her and imagining it on her body, to even take in her expression this time. Though he had a vague sense that she’d seemed embarrassed by the girl’s behavior. She appeared unconcerned now, though, completely oblivious of his presence, her expression serene as Stephanie held up a black and red bustier in front of her. A bustier, for Christ’s sake!
“You’re so lucky to have the body to wear this stuff.” Stephanie was sighing as he tuned in to what she was saying. “You have lovely breasts. I noticed when you were changing your clothes last night. I hope I have breasts like yours when I finish growing. They’re full and round, just like those girls in the screamer movies.”
“Dear God,” Harper muttered, forcing his eyes and ears away from the pair as his mind again filled with the image of Drina’s full, round breasts in the white lace.
Was this how females talked when alone together? Commenting on breasts and stuff as they stripped in front of each other? And if it was . . . well, that was one thing. But he wasn’t a girl, and yet neither seemed troubled about having the discussion in front of him. What the hell did that say?
He supposed it said neither of them were thinking of him as a sexual male, and he guessed that was as it should be. Stephanie was too young to think of any male that way . . . he hoped. And it wasn’t like Drina was his life mate. The woman was old enough she probably didn’t bother much with sex despite Stephanie’s efforts to gussy her up like a tart and send her out on the prowl for “hunky guys.”
Harper was more than relieved when the women finished in the lingerie department and moved on to actual clothing. At least he was until Stephanie insisted Drina try on a slinky little black dress and model it for them in case she got the chance to go out and “kick up her heels” a bit.
The dress was nothing special . . . until Drina put it on. It looked to him as if Stephanie had given her the wrong size. Drina seemed to be busting out all over the place, her breasts overflowing the cups to the point of almost spilling out, and the slit up the front so high that Harper feared more than thigh would show were she to step up onto anything or sit in it.
“Perfect,” Stephanie pronounced, jolting him out of his stupor.
He peered from Drina to Stephanie with disbelief. “Surely it’s the wrong size?”
“Actually, it’s just my size,” Drina said, peering at herself in the mirror.
“But it’s—” He paused, mouth open when she turned her back to him. Drina’s behind was as generous as her bosom, and he couldn’t help noting the way the material clung to her curves . . . or how short the skirt was. Were she to bend over, he was sure the skirt would climb halfway up her hips.
He’d barely had the thought when Stephanie said, “Maybe you should bend over, Drina. We need to be sure it’s safe to do that in this dress.”
Drina shrugged and bent at the waist as if to pick up something. The skirt didn’t rise halfway up her hips as he’d feared, but high enough that he caught a glimpse of her white lace panties.
“It’s okay,” Stephanie decided. “It only shows a little panty when you do that.”
“Then I won’t bend over,” Drina said dryly as she straightened.
Harper closed his eyes and just managed not to whimper. This was an experience he felt sure he would never forget . . . and definitely never repeat, he thought grimly. Women were crazy.
“I think we should probably get you some FM shoes to go with it when we go looking for winter boots,” Stephanie announced, and Drina nodded as she slipped back into the dressing room to return to her jeans and blouse.
“FM shoes?” Harper asked blankly.
“It’s what my sister calls high heels,” Stephanie explained.
“Oh.” He frowned and asked, “Is it a brand or—”
“No. It stands for something, but she’ll never tell me what,” Stephanie said with a grimace, and then shrugged. “Maybe Drina can tell us. She seemed to know what I was talking about. Oh look! Wouldn’t these look darling on her?”
Harper stared at the package of thigh-high stockings Stephanie was now holding up and shook his head with bewilderment. It was like the girl was dressing a hooker Barbie. She seemed eager to get Drina in the slinkiest, sexiest items available. Not that Drina seemed to be fighting the effort. Although, to be fair, the black dress was the only outer clothing that fit that description. The rest of the clothes she’d chosen had been mostly sensible and comfortable jeans, T-shirts, and so on. But every bit of underclothing was downright rated X.
“Girls like to wear pretty things,” Stephanie announced with a smile. “My sister, Dani, says it’s kind of like a secret. Men don’t know what we have on under our clothes. We may look like a librarian or tomboy on the outside, but underneath we can be as secretly sexy and pretty as we please.” She turned back to the hose and smiled. “You should have seen the cute little pink panties and bra Drina was wearing last night. I suffered some serious envy when I saw them. I can’t wait to wear stuff like that. They looked incredible against her olive skin.”
Harper blinked, his mind filling with an image of Drina in pale pink panties and bra, and it did look incredible against her darker skin. Damn, he thought on a sigh as Drina stepped out of the changing room.
“I guess I’ll get it. You never know when you’ll need to dress up,” Drina said lightly, setting the short, black cocktail dress in the cart. “What’s left? Coats, boots, a hat, and gloves?”
“Yeah.” Stephanie glanced down at the bomber jacket she wore and winced. “Tiny picked this up for me yesterday, which was really sweet, because if not I wouldn’t have had a coat at all. But it’s kind of big and really, just not my style.”
