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something fairly often, enough to make the effort worth it, at least for my father." She began to sink down
in a split. "Press down on my shoulders." His long, thin fingers gripped her and pressed. He always
seemed to know how much pressure to apply, though she knew Sean was far stronger than any human.
"Did you have brothers or sisters?" he asked, his voice quiet.
"I have a brother," she said, her eyes closed as she felt her thighs stretch to their limit. She hadn't talked
about her family in over a year.
"Is your brother a handsome man?"
"No," Rue said sadly. "No, he isn't. He's a sweet guy, but he's not strong."
"So you didn't win every pageant you entered?" Sean teased, changing the subject.
She opened her eyes and smiled, while rising to her feet very carefully. "I won a few," she said,
remembering the glass-fronted case her mother had bought to hold all the trophies and crowns.
"But not all?" Sean widened his eyes to show amazement.
"I came in second sometimes," she conceded, mocking herself, and shot him a sideways look. "And
sometimes I was Miss Congeniality."
"You mean the other contestants thought you were the sweetest woman among them?"
"Fooled them, huh?"
Sean smiled at her. "You have your moments." The sweetness of that down-turned mouth, when it
crooked up in a smile, was incredible.
"You knock my socks off, Sean," she said honestly. She was unable to stop herself from smiling back.
He looked very strange in his costume the flowered loincloth, ankle bracelets made of shells and the short
black wig. Thompson was the only one who looked remotely natural in the get-up, and he was gloating
about it.
"What does that mean?"
She shook her head, still smiling, and was a little relieved when Denny knocked on the door to indicate
that Jen, the party planner, had signaled that it was time for their appearance. Karl lined the dancers up
and looked them over, making a last-minute adjustment here and there. "Stomach looks good," he said
briefly, and Rue glanced down. "Julie and Megan did a good job," she admitted. She knew the scar was
there, but if she hadn't been looking for it, she would have thought her own stomach was smooth and
unmarred.
After Karl's last minute adjustment of the bright costumes and the black wigs, the six barefoot dancers
padded down the carpeted hall to the patio door, and out across the marble terrace into the torch-lit
backyard of the Jaslow estate. Rick and Phil loped past them on their way inside, burdened with the
things they'd used in their act. "Went great," Rick said. "That backyard's huge."
"It's probably called the garden, not the backyard," Thompson muttered.
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Karl said, "Sean, is this the sort of place you grew up in?"
Sean snorted, and Rue couldn't tell if he was deriding his former affluence, or indicating what he'd had
had been much better.
Since Rue was shorter than Julie, she was in the middle when the three women stepped out across the
marble terrace and onto the grass to begin their routine. Smiling, they posed for the opening bars of the
drum music. Julie looked like a different person with the black wig on. Rue had a second to wonder if
Julie's own mother would recognize her before the drums began. The routine began with a lot of hula-like
hip twitching, the three women gradually rotating in circles. The intense pelvic motion actually felt good.
The hand movements were simple, and they'd practiced and practiced doing them in unison. Rue caught
a glimpse of Megan turning too fast and hoped the torchlight was obscuring
Megan's haste. In her sideways glance, Rue caught a glimpse of a face she'd hoped she'd never see
again.
All the years of training she'd had in composure paid off. She kept her smile pasted on her face, she kept
up with the dance, and she-blanked her mind out. The only thought she permitted herself was a
reminder she'd thought even Julie's family wouldn't recognize her, in the costume and the wig. Neither
would her own.
Maybe Carver Hutton IV wouldn't, either.
CHAPTER FOUR
The music was mostly drums, and the beat was fast and demanding. While Megan, Julie and Rue held
their positions, the men leaped out, and the crowd gave the expected "Oooooh" at how high the vampires
could jump. Sean, Karl and Thompson began their wild dance around the women. It was a good
opportunity for her to catch her breath. Without moving her head from its position, she looked over at the
spot where she'd seen him standing. Now there was no one there who reminded her of Carver. Maybe it
had just been an illusion. Relief swept through her like sweet, cool water through a thirsty throat.
When Sean came to lift her above his head, she gave him a brilliant smile. As he circled, stomping his
feet to the beat, she held her pose perfectly, and when he let her fall into his waiting arms, she arched her
neck back willingly for the bite. She was ready to feel better, to have that lingering fear erased.
He seemed to sense her eagerness. Before his fangs sank in, she felt his tongue trace a line on her skin,
and her arm involuntarily tightened around his neck. As the overwhelming peace flooded her anxious
heart, Rue wondered if she was becoming addicted to Sean. "Hi, I'm Rue, and I'm a vampire junkie."
She didn't want to become one of those pitiful fang-bangers, people who would do almost anything to be
bitten.
The audience gave them a round of applause as the women stood up, the men sweeping their arms
outward to mark the end of the performance. The crowd goggled curiously at the two dots on the
women's necks. Rue stepped forward with Julie and Megan to take her bow, and as she went down she
thought she saw Carver Hutton again, out of the corner of her eye. When she straightened, he wasn't
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there. Was she delusional? She pasted her smile back onto her face.
The six of them ran into the house, waving to the guests as they trotted along, like a happy Polynesian
dance troupe that just happened to (almost) all have Caucasian features. They were expected back out
on the terrace in party clothes in fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, Denny James would be dismantling their [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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something fairly often, enough to make the effort worth it, at least for my father." She began to sink down
in a split. "Press down on my shoulders." His long, thin fingers gripped her and pressed. He always
seemed to know how much pressure to apply, though she knew Sean was far stronger than any human.
"Did you have brothers or sisters?" he asked, his voice quiet.
"I have a brother," she said, her eyes closed as she felt her thighs stretch to their limit. She hadn't talked
about her family in over a year.
"Is your brother a handsome man?"
"No," Rue said sadly. "No, he isn't. He's a sweet guy, but he's not strong."
"So you didn't win every pageant you entered?" Sean teased, changing the subject.
She opened her eyes and smiled, while rising to her feet very carefully. "I won a few," she said,
remembering the glass-fronted case her mother had bought to hold all the trophies and crowns.
"But not all?" Sean widened his eyes to show amazement.
"I came in second sometimes," she conceded, mocking herself, and shot him a sideways look. "And
sometimes I was Miss Congeniality."
"You mean the other contestants thought you were the sweetest woman among them?"
"Fooled them, huh?"
Sean smiled at her. "You have your moments." The sweetness of that down-turned mouth, when it
crooked up in a smile, was incredible.
"You knock my socks off, Sean," she said honestly. She was unable to stop herself from smiling back.
He looked very strange in his costume the flowered loincloth, ankle bracelets made of shells and the short
black wig. Thompson was the only one who looked remotely natural in the get-up, and he was gloating
about it.
"What does that mean?"
She shook her head, still smiling, and was a little relieved when Denny knocked on the door to indicate
that Jen, the party planner, had signaled that it was time for their appearance. Karl lined the dancers up
and looked them over, making a last-minute adjustment here and there. "Stomach looks good," he said
briefly, and Rue glanced down. "Julie and Megan did a good job," she admitted. She knew the scar was
there, but if she hadn't been looking for it, she would have thought her own stomach was smooth and
unmarred.
After Karl's last minute adjustment of the bright costumes and the black wigs, the six barefoot dancers
padded down the carpeted hall to the patio door, and out across the marble terrace into the torch-lit
backyard of the Jaslow estate. Rick and Phil loped past them on their way inside, burdened with the
things they'd used in their act. "Went great," Rick said. "That backyard's huge."
"It's probably called the garden, not the backyard," Thompson muttered.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Karl said, "Sean, is this the sort of place you grew up in?"
Sean snorted, and Rue couldn't tell if he was deriding his former affluence, or indicating what he'd had
had been much better.
Since Rue was shorter than Julie, she was in the middle when the three women stepped out across the
marble terrace and onto the grass to begin their routine. Smiling, they posed for the opening bars of the
drum music. Julie looked like a different person with the black wig on. Rue had a second to wonder if
Julie's own mother would recognize her before the drums began. The routine began with a lot of hula-like
hip twitching, the three women gradually rotating in circles. The intense pelvic motion actually felt good.
The hand movements were simple, and they'd practiced and practiced doing them in unison. Rue caught
a glimpse of Megan turning too fast and hoped the torchlight was obscuring
Megan's haste. In her sideways glance, Rue caught a glimpse of a face she'd hoped she'd never see
again.
All the years of training she'd had in composure paid off. She kept her smile pasted on her face, she kept
up with the dance, and she-blanked her mind out. The only thought she permitted herself was a
reminder she'd thought even Julie's family wouldn't recognize her, in the costume and the wig. Neither
would her own.
Maybe Carver Hutton IV wouldn't, either.
CHAPTER FOUR
The music was mostly drums, and the beat was fast and demanding. While Megan, Julie and Rue held
their positions, the men leaped out, and the crowd gave the expected "Oooooh" at how high the vampires
could jump. Sean, Karl and Thompson began their wild dance around the women. It was a good
opportunity for her to catch her breath. Without moving her head from its position, she looked over at the
spot where she'd seen him standing. Now there was no one there who reminded her of Carver. Maybe it
had just been an illusion. Relief swept through her like sweet, cool water through a thirsty throat.
When Sean came to lift her above his head, she gave him a brilliant smile. As he circled, stomping his
feet to the beat, she held her pose perfectly, and when he let her fall into his waiting arms, she arched her
neck back willingly for the bite. She was ready to feel better, to have that lingering fear erased.
He seemed to sense her eagerness. Before his fangs sank in, she felt his tongue trace a line on her skin,
and her arm involuntarily tightened around his neck. As the overwhelming peace flooded her anxious
heart, Rue wondered if she was becoming addicted to Sean. "Hi, I'm Rue, and I'm a vampire junkie."
She didn't want to become one of those pitiful fang-bangers, people who would do almost anything to be
bitten.
The audience gave them a round of applause as the women stood up, the men sweeping their arms
outward to mark the end of the performance. The crowd goggled curiously at the two dots on the
women's necks. Rue stepped forward with Julie and Megan to take her bow, and as she went down she
thought she saw Carver Hutton again, out of the corner of her eye. When she straightened, he wasn't
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
there. Was she delusional? She pasted her smile back onto her face.
The six of them ran into the house, waving to the guests as they trotted along, like a happy Polynesian
dance troupe that just happened to (almost) all have Caucasian features. They were expected back out
on the terrace in party clothes in fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, Denny James would be dismantling their [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]