Single White Vampire (Argeneau #3)(63)

"What?" Chuck's horrified roar was probably heard from one end of the reception hall to the other, Kate thought—and judging by the way the general talking and laughter suddenly quieted, she knew she was right. Dear God, soon everyone was going to know she was under here.

Kate heard Lady Barrow's voice, sharp and firm, and she smiled to herself. Kathryn could be as kind as anyone, but she wasn't a woman to take guff and she wasn't afraid of anyone, as far as Kate knew. She had probably just put Chuck in his place for drawing attention to what they had all been trying to hide, and Kate could have hugged the woman.

"There you are!" she heard Lady Barrow exclaim. "Thank you."

The tablecloth lifted, and the woman appeared. Much to Kate's amazement, rather than hand over the flashlight, Kathryn Falk, Lady Barrow, knelt and slid under the table next to her. "It's hot under here, isn't it?" she commented conversationally, as if she did this sort of thing every day. Lady Barrow situated herself, turned on the light, shined it where the tablecloth and codpiece were tangled, then nodded solemnly at Kate. "Get to it, girl. The sooner you get it untangled, the sooner we can get out of here."

It was easier said than done. Lucern was well and truly caught. At least three of the half-dozen pins on his codpiece were stuck at various places in the tablecloth. One pin had probably just snagged at first, then Lucern's tugging had entrapped the others. It took a bit of work to free him.

Lady Barrow remained patient throughout, keeping the light steady, holding the cloth out of the way when Kate needed an extra hand, giving advice and cracking the occasional joke to relieve the stress of the moment. However, even with her help it seemed an excruciatingly long ordeal. And embarrassing, too. As much as she wanted to avoid touching Lucern's codpiece, it was impossible—and more often than not she was holding it in her hand. She was terribly aware of the hard flesh beneath as she twisted the material this way or that, trying to unhook all the pins without getting others caught. She didn't even want to guess at how Lucern felt. It had to be some horrible torture.



If Kate didn't soon stop, Lucern was positive he was going to shame himself right there at the table for all to see. She wasn't touching him in any sexual way, but the very fact she was between his knees and shifting him had him reacting like a teenage boy. He had lived a long, long time, but Lucern had never found himself in quite this situation before. And he hoped to God he never did again.

"There's another one free."

Kate's voice came from beneath the table, and everyone standing around made noises Lucern supposed were congratulatory and encouraging. He tried not to wiggle in his seat as her grip on him again shifted. Generally, his erections didn't point that way—but he supposed she was trying to get at the last pin. By looking down, he could actually see her fingers wrapped around him where they poked out from under the cloth. He glanced up at Jodi and saw her wide-eyed gaze fixed on his lap. He managed a lame smile.

"Oh, dear."

That exclamation from one of the other writers drew both his and Jodi's attention. It was Beth, and she looked absolutely horrified. Lucern felt his heart sink. He had thought that the arrival of the president of Kate's company was the worst thing that could happen, but the writer's expression suggested otherwise.

"What is it?" he asked, deciding it was best to find out.

"You know those documentary people? The ones who have been filming everything?" she asked.

"No." Lucern hadn't heard of any documentaries being filmed.

"They're always shooting documentaries at the R.T. conference," Jodi put in. "They love filming all the women and the finery and such."

"Yes. And don't look now, but they're coming this way. And so is that photographer from the local paper."

"Oh, dear," Jodi murmured. "He's probably looking for Lady Barrow. He's been trailing her all night."

"Damn," Lucern breathed. It had all definitely just got worse.



"Last one," Kate told Lady Barrow with a relief that was echoed by the founder of Romantic Times.

"Good," the woman said.

Kate couldn't blame her; they were both bent, heads tilted to the side and backs pressed against the bottom of the table. Kate had to really respect the woman for coming under here with her. There had been no need, but Lady Barrow had that kind of if-there's-something-to-do, let's-get-it-done personality. Energy and enthusiasm seemed to shimmer off her.

Sighing, Kate forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. One last pin to free and they would be out of there. Then she was going to insist Lucern head straight to the men's room and remove the jeweled pins. She couldn't imagine he had put them on his damned codpiece in the first place, and was grateful she hadn't danced with him before this had happened—she might have found her dress caught. Wouldn't that have been fun, to untangle right there in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see? As it was, enough people knew she was under a table working on Lucern's codpiece; she didn't need every last attendee of the conference seeing her author's predicament.

"Got it! You're free," Kate called out in relief as the last pin came loose. She started to pull away, only to find her sleeve pulling up short. Somehow, while she had been untangling the tablecloth from the last pin, her sleeve had gotten caught on another. She was now attached to Lucern, wrist to codpiece.