Single White Vampire (Argeneau #3)(6)

Cursing, Lucern ducked out from under the tap and snatched at the first thing to come to hand; a tea towel. He wrapped it around his wet head, straightened, then pointed at the door. "Out of my kitchen. Out!"

Kate C. Leever blinked in surprise at his return of temper, then seemed to grow an inch in height as she marshaled her own. Her voice was firm as she said, "You need a doctor."

"No."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that the only word you know?"

"No."

She threw her hands up in the air, then let them drop—as quick as that, seeming to relax. Lucern found himself wary.

Kate C. Leever smiled and moved to finish making the tea he had started. "That settles it, then," she said.

"Settles what?" Lucern asked, watching suspiciously as she threw the two teabags in the tea pot and poured hot water over them.

Kate shrugged mildly and set the kettle back. "I had intended on trying to talk to you, then checking into a hotel later tonight. However, now that you've hurt yourself and refuse to go the hospital…" She turned away from the steeping tea to raise one eyebrow. "You won't reconsider?"

"No."

She nodded and turned back to plop the lid again on the teapot. The clink it made had an oddly satisfied sound to it as she explained, "I can't leave you alone after such an injury. Head wounds are tricky. I suppose I shall have to stay here."

Lucern was opening his mouth to let her know that she most certainly was not staying there, when she moved toward the refrigerator and asked, "Do you take milk?"

Recalling the bag of blood ripped open in the fridge, he raced past her and threw himself wildly in front of her. "No!"

She stared at him, mouth agape, until he realized he stood before the refrigerator door with his arms widespread in a panicked pose. He immediately shifted to lean against it, arms and ankles crossed in a position he hoped appeared more natural. Then he glared at her for good measure. It had the effect of making her close her mouth; then she said uncertainly, "Oh. Well, I do. If you have any."

"No."

She nodded slowly, but concern filled her face and she actually lifted a hand to place it soft and warm against his forehead as if checking for fever. Lucern inhaled the scent of her and felt his stance relax somewhat.

"Are you sure you won't go to the hospital?" Kate asked. "You're acting a tad strange, and head wounds really aren't something to mess with."

"No."

Lucern was alarmed when he heard how low his voice had gone. He was even more concerned when Kate Leever smiled and asked teasingly, "Now, why aren't I surprised by that answer?"

Much to his dismay, he almost smiled back at her. Catching himself, he scowled harder instead and berated himself for his momentary weakness. Kate C. Leever, editor, might be being nice to him right now, but that was only because she wanted something from him. And he would do well to remember that.

"Well, come along, then."

Lucern stopped his woolgathering to note that his editor had collected the tea tray and was moving toward the kitchen door.

"We should move to the living room, where you can sit down for a bit. You took quite a blow," she added as she pushed through the swinging door with one hip.

Lucern took a step after her, then paused to glance back at the refrigerator, his thoughts on the other full bag of blood inside. It was his last until the fresh delivery tomorrow night. He was terribly hungry, almost faint with it. Which was no doubt the reason behind his weakness in the face of Kate C. Leever's steamroller approach. Perhaps just a sip would strengthen him for the conversation ahead. He reached for the door.

"Lucern?"

He stiffened at that call. When had she stopped addressing him as Mr. Argeneau? And why did his name on her lips sound so sexy? He really needed to feed. He pulled the refrigerator door open and reached for the bag.

"Lucern?" There was concern in her voice this time, and she sounded closer. She must be coming back. No doubt she feared he had passed out from his injury.

He released a mutter of frustration and closed the refrigerator door. The last thing he needed was another debacle like spilling blood all over himself. That had already caused him unending problems, like the fact that the woman now planned to stay with him. He'd meant to nix the idea at once, but had been distracted by Ms. Leever approaching the refrigerator. Damn!

Well, he would straighten her out on that issue first thing. He'd be damned if he was letting her stay here and harangue him about all this publicity nonsense. That was that. He would be firm. Cruel, if necessary. She wasn't staying here.



Lucern tried to get rid of her, but Kate C. Leever was rather like a bulldog once she made up her mind about something. No, a bulldog was the wrong image. A terrier perhaps. Yes, he was happier with that comparison. A cute blond terrier hanging off of his arm, teeth sunk determinedly into the cuff of his shirt and refusing to let go. Short of smashing her against the wall a couple of times, he really had no idea how to get her jaws off him.

It was the situation of course. Despite having lived for several hundred years, Lucern had failed to come up against anything of the sort. In his experience, people were a bother and never failed to bring chaos with them. Women especially. He'd always been a sucker for a damsel in distress. He couldn't recount how many times he'd found himself stumbling across a woman with troubles and suddenly finding his whole life in turmoil while he fought a battle, a duel, or a war for her. Of course, he always won and saved the day. Still, somehow he never got the woman. In the end, all his efforts and the upheavals in his life left him watching the woman walk away with someone else.