Sexiest Vampire Alive

Besides, Pru and Constanza were probably right. Why would he be interested in a mortal when so many Undead women wanted him? She had to seem boring compared to vampire women who could have sex on the ceiling.

A terrible thought weaseled into her mind. What if he was just pretending to like her for political reasons? He might be charming her to ingratiate himself and his kind with her father. A playboy would be an expert at charming women.

She groaned inwardly. It was foolish, wishful thinking to believe Gregori was attracted to her. The guys who usually gravitated toward her were the geeky type—lanky build, nerdy glasses, and totally immersed in science. She’d dated a few like that in college and grad school. The relationships had been . . . comfortable.

But they were not the men she dreamed about. After years of listening to her mother’s audio books, she’d found herself wanting more than comfortable. She wanted heat and passion. Desperate desire. She wanted to long for a man who would long for her. She wanted a man who believed she should be worshipped and pleasured to her heart’s content. All night long.

She’d feared such men existed only in fiction.

Now she feared they were all too real.

She couldn’t let herself fall for a vampire. Or a playboy. A vampire expected sex on the ceiling. A playboy would find her sister attractive. Not her.

She sighed. “I know about you.”

His green eyes widened. “What do you know?”

“You’re a playboy.”

Chapter Twelve

Shit. Gregori sat back and adjusted his cuff links. There was no mistaking the censure in Abigail’s voice, which meant there were now two points against him: vampire and playboy. No wonder she kept scooting down the booth. She expected him to either bite her or ravish her.

He’d figured Pru and her friend were up to no good. They had their own agenda, obviously, and that included scaring Abigail away from him. He’d heard them talking as he’d approached the table.

He took a sip of Bleer and set the glass down. “Just for the record, I’ve never had sex on the ceiling.”

Abigail stiffened and her cheeks turned pink. “It’s none of my business.” She ventured a glance his way. “Is that true?”

“Yes. Did those ladies claim that I slept with them?”

“No.” She shook her head, and her blush deepened. “But they want to. Along with hundreds of others.”

“Hundreds?” He tried not to laugh. “I’m not much of a playboy, am I, if I’ve neglected to sleep with hundreds of willing victims?”

She tilted her head, considering. “That would depend on how large a pool of volunteers you started off with.”

He lifted his eyebrows. Did she think he was operating in the thousands? “Well, thank God I’m with a scholar. I’m sure you can devise a formula for determining the correct number.”

She frowned at him. “It’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s not.” He gulped down the last of his Bleer.

She drank some of her soda.

So he hadn’t been a saint. She had no right to judge him. He clunked his empty glass onto the table. “After about five thousand or so, I stopped counting.”

She gasped. “Five thousand?”

He glowered at her. “I was kidding.”

“It’s not amusing.”

“I’m not laughing.” He leaned toward her. “Why are you so prickly all of a sudden? Are you jealous?”

She snorted. “Jealous of what?”

“Five thousand make-believe lovers.”

She lifted her chin. “If you must know why I’m upset, it’s because I have serious doubts you can be trusted. I don’t want to be left abandoned in the middle of China while you take off chasing women.”

“China? Is that where we’re going?”

“We aren’t going anywhere. I’ll have to report to my father that you’re not suitable.”

Shit. He loosened his tie. The personal insult was bad enough, but he had too many Vamps depending on him to make sure the alliance with the president went through.

He twisted to face Abigail, resting one arm across the back of the booth and the other along the table. “You judge me guilty without a trial? Where’s your evidence? How many women here have I slept with?”

She shrugged.

“The answer is none,” he continued before she could answer. “If you don’t believe me, call them over and ask them yourself.”

“You would have slept with Prunella Culpepper if you had more time.”

“How do you know that?”

“You told her the sun was setting in thirty minutes, and you needed the entire night to worship and pleasure someone as beautiful as her.”

He snorted. “That was a rejection line. I turned her down.”

“Because you only had thirty minutes.”

“I’d take thirty minutes with you!” He froze. What the hell was he saying? She looked equally shocked, her pretty eyes wide and her soft lips parted. It had been so long since he’d kissed a mortal. Her lips would be warmer than a Vamp’s. Sweeter.

“Well, don’t you two look cozy?” an amused voice asked.

Gregori shifted to face front and gave Phineas an annoyed look. Abigail attempted to scoot farther away from him, but since his arm was stretched along the back of the booth, he grabbed on to her shoulder and blocked her movement. She nudged him in the side with her elbow.

“I’m having a great time!” Madison grinned as she sat down. “Dr. Phang is a wonderful dancer.”

“You’re pretty hot yourself.” Phineas winked at her. “You make the other chicks look half dead.”

Madison laughed, then beamed a smile at her sister and Gregori. “I’m glad you two are getting along. Dad will be so relieved.”

“Be sure and tell him that,” Gregori said with a smile that only wavered slightly when Abigail nudged him harder in the ribs.

“I’m going to get something to drink,” Phineas said. “Anybody want something from the bar?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Abigail murmured.

“Me too.” Madison took a long drink from her martini.

“I’ll take another Bleer,” Gregori said.

Phineas nodded and strode toward the bar.

Madison set her martini glass down and gave him a confused look. “Did you say beer?”

“Bleer. Half blood, half beer,” Gregori explained. “It’s part of Vampire Fusion Cuisine. We call it VFC for short.”

“VFC?” Madison’s eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh, that’s like KFC, but for vampires.” She giggled. “You guys are so funny.”

Gregori smiled. “We aim to please.”

Abigail turned toward him an inquisitive look. “Is there a lab that comes up with this stuff?”

He nodded. “Romatech Industries.”

Her eyes widened. “The lab that invented synthetic blood?”

“Yes. That’s where I work.”

She blinked. “You have a job?”