Single White Vampire (Argeneau #3)(26)

"Look at it this way," his sister added. "Half an hour in front of a camera during an interview, or Kate Leever camping out on your porch."

Bastien laughed. "If you even manage to get her out the front door."

Lucern glared at him, but his brother merely shrugged. "You've apparently gone soft on us, Luc," he continued. "A hundred years ago you wouldn't have had any trouble tossing her out on her heart-shaped little behind."

"You've been looking at her behind?" Lucern asked in outrage.

"Sure, why not? She's single. I'm single." He shrugged. "Is there a problem?"

Lucern scowled. There shouldn't be a problem, and he knew it. But for some reason, he didn't like Bastien checking out Kate at all.

"Poor Luc," Lissianna said. He peered at her in question, so she patted his arm as if he needed soothing. "Six hundred years old, and you just don't know how to deal with the feelings Kate raises in you. Surely with age some wisdom should come."

"It seems men remain emotionally dense no matter how long they live," Rachel commented dryly.

Lucern remained silent, his thoughts in an uproar. Lissianna was implying he was unaware he was falling for the girl. He wasn't. He was aware of it. But he didn't have to like it—or give in to it, either. As to the hunger he felt around her, Lucern admitted now it wasn't bloodlust he'd felt on the dance floor, but sexual lust. He wanted Kate C. Leever, editor. And that was a complication he could do without. If her mind wasn't closed to him, he might have been willing to indulge himself and enjoy her body as he wanted to. He certainly hadn't lived as a monk for six hundred years. But her mind was closed, making such an action dangerous.

Shaking his head, he left the others by the van and headed back into the reception hall. As far as he was concerned, he was just suffering a crush—a natural affection caused by being forced into close proximity with someone else. He'd get over it just as soon as Kate C. Leever was gone. He just had to get her gone.



Chapter Six



Marguerite was the only one at the table when Lucern returned and reclaimed his seat. A quick scan of the dance floor showed Kate and Greg were dancing. They looked awfully cozy. Kate was relaxed and smiling in Gregory Hewitt's arms—something she hadn't been in Lucern's—and they were moving in perfect sync, as if they'd been dancing together for years.

Gregory even looked pretty damned suave out there on the dance floor. Lucern had never thought of his brother-in-law as a ladies' man, but he certainly seemed to be doing a pretty good imitation right now. Logically, Lucern knew Greg loved Lissianna deeply and was no threat when it came to Kate. Besides which, Lucern reminded himself quickly, he himself wasn't even interested in a relationship with the woman. But his body didn't appear to be responding to his logic. Some primal part of him didn't give a hoot for logic. And as he watched Greg whirl Kate around the dance floor, Lucern could feel his muscles tensing and twitching. A low growl rumbled to life in his chest as he watched the pair dip and then recover.

"You should go cut in."

Lucern stiffened at his mother's words. He glanced her way and saw she was casting a pitying look upon him. He turned sharply, struggled briefly with himself, then jerked to his feet and strode onto the dance floor. If there was anything Lucern hated it was being pitied. Now he was mad.

Greg noticed his approach, took one look at his expression, nodded solemnly and quit the dance floor.

Kate turned in confusion when Greg suddenly released her and stepped away. She supposed she wasn't surprised to see Lucern there. However, she was surprised at his expression. His usually cold, grumpy exterior had been replaced by the intensity of a stalking animal. He looked hard and angry, but not cold. Anything but cold. His eyes were all silver with no blue. She now understood a description he had given of Claude in his first book: "Flinty eyes that spoke of the fires of hell and left his enemies quailing." She hadn't imagined that silver-blue eyes could look so ferocious, but there were vermilion fires burning there, almost seeming to snap out of his irises like the arc from a welder's flame.

Yet Kate wasn't afraid. For some reason a smile curved her lips, and she couldn't have stopped the words that popped out had she tried. "Smoking debbies didn't relax you, I take it?"

Lucern reacted as if he crashed into an invisible wall. His determined stride broke at once, and he stared at her with a blank expression that utterly erased the feral fever of moments before. Then he did the most amazing thing: Lucern Argeneau, that stubborn, stupid, ignorant man, actually let loose a gale of laughter. In truth, Kate hadn't thought such a thing possible. The man was such a…

Her thoughts died as he swept her into his arms and they began to dance. He was still chuckling softly, the action making his chest reverberate against hers. He urged her closer. When Kate lifted her head to peer shyly into his face, he smiled and said, "You're an evil woman, Kate C. Leever."

She found herself smiling in return. She had thought the man handsome from the first, but now, with laughter sparkling in his eyes and tilting the corners of his mouth, he was so much more than simply handsome. He was breathtaking. Literally. Kate honestly had some difficulty breathing as she met his gaze. Heat was radiating from every point their bodies met. She wanted to lay her head on his shoulder and melt into him. She wanted to feel his hands move over her flesh. She wanted…