Real Vampires Hate Their Thighs (Glory St. Clair #5) - Page 4/63

“Of course, cheri.” Damian grinned, clearly liking his women with some bite. “Excuse us.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “We’ll stop and make sure Blade doesn’t head this way, but don’t linger, Glory. This man is dangerous. Be careful.”

Ian smiled and slid his arm around my shoulders as soon as Damian disappeared into the crowd with Sheri. He’d obviously heard Damian’s warning.

“Damian’s right, Gloriana. I can be dangerous. But not to you and Florence. You came over here to ask me about my special products.” He gestured toward one of the secluded booths. “Join me for a drink and I’ll tell you all about them.” He swept his eyes from my head down to my toes, lingering at the spots where I’d like to lose some inches. “Back when I was a lad, you would have been considered a handsome armful. But times change, don’t they, lass? Bad for you, good for me and my business.” He smiled sympathetically. “When were you turned?”

“Early sixteen hundreds.” This man understood me like Jerry never had. I wanted to press my face to his strong chest and sob about all the times I’d felt bad about my size.

“Your figure was perfect then. Still is to an ancient vampire like me.” He slid his hand from my shoulder down to my arm. He finally seemed to be giving my cleavage the attention it deserved. “But these modern times are different. I can tell from the way you’re dressed that you’re a woman who likes to stay current. Am I right?”

“Yes.” I blinked before I let him whammy me right into one of those curtained booths and into something I might regret. This guy had some serious intuition. Or experience with women. Of course he did. It was his business to know what a woman wanted.

He turned to Florence. “I can’t imagine, Florence, that you’re serious about needing to lose weight. You’re here to support your friend, of course.”

Flo smiled, preening under his dazzling smile and obvious approval of her perfect figure. “I think Glory looks great. As you say. But she wants to be smaller. So I have to help my BFF.” Flo ran her hands down the sides of her hips in her size-six designer dress that was obviously straight from a Rodeo Drive boutique. “I would like to lose just a few pounds. If I could choose where they would come from.”

“Like the liposuction that mortals use.” Ian shook his head. “Afraid I can’t help you there. There’s no predicting where the weight will come off. I say you should leave your body alone. What does your husband say?”

“Why, I wouldn’t dream of asking him.” Flo glanced at me. “We are still on our honeymoon. Now, after centuries of being on my own, I can’t imagine asking Richard’s permission for anything.”

“Of course not.” Ian winked at me. “But I’m sure a clever woman like yourself makes your Richard think he’s in charge, eh, Florence?”

Flo smiled. “It’s a game I play. I ask him for some things. If he really loves me, he must give me what I want. He always does. And it makes him think he’s my lord and master.” She shrugged, the gesture pure Italian. “So I do a little manipulation. It’s a survival skill that has served me well for centuries. Capisca?”

“Sure, I get it. It’s a fine art, one I admire in a master crafts-man or craftswoman.” Ian moved a step closer to Florence.

Flo’s eyes narrowed on Ian and she shook her head. “Why I tell you this? I think I’m not the only one who likes a little manipulation.”

Ian just kept watching my friend while I tried not to screech at both of them to get back to what was important here, namely my hip measurement. Flo and Ian engaged in a stare-down until Flo suddenly nodded.

“So. We are here for my friend. Help her. Glory looks like she is ready to scream, she’s so tired of waiting to find out if this diet thing is true or not.”

Ian turned and grinned at me. “Relax, Glory. It’s true and I think I can help you. Let me guess. You want to lose ten, maybe fifteen pounds. Is that right?”

For once I was speechless. I swayed toward him. My ultimate dream would be to lose twenty. So that people would come up to me and ask me if I’d been sick. Urge me to eat. Who knows? I might even discover cheekbones I never knew I had. You get my drift? I was jerked back from my fantasy by a hand on my other arm.

“This is good news. But we must go now, Glory. Jeremiah will be looking for you. You must meet with Ian later. When you are not with his enemy. Sì?” Flo smiled at Ian. “Is it really possible? You’re not playing with us, are you?”

“Oh, it’s possible. Just not sure it’s something I’m willing to do for a Campbell’s woman.” Ian frowned. “Why would I do one of those dung-eating sods a favor?”

That certainly snapped me out of my hero-worshipping trance. “You wouldn’t be doing him a favor; you’d be doing it for me. I’m engaged to another man. Seriously. Read the tabloids if you don’t believe me.” I knew I wasn’t making sense and took a breath. “Jerry’s my sire. He made me vampire centuries ago. So I owe him, you know? But I’m engaged to Israel Caine, the rock star. We’re out here in Los Angeles for the Grammys. Jerry followed us.” I was shielding my thoughts with a block the size of the Great Wall of China. “I came to the club to be with my friends Flo, Damian and Richard. Israel’s busy with Grammy stuff tonight or he’d be here.”

“You’re engaged to a mortal?” Ian stared at me, those sapphire eyes rightly very suspicious. He had up his own block and there was no reading his mind.

“Uh, no.” I really shouldn’t have been telling this, but I guessed Ian would find out if he was going to work with me. “Ray’s a vampire.” I saw a flare of surprise before Ian went back to suspicion again. “Seriously. He is. But that’s a deep, dark secret. I know you won’t tell anyone. Right?”

“I wouldn’t be in business long if I didn’t know how to keep a secret, Gloriana. As to whether I believe this . . .”

“Pick up a tabloid. Any of them. You’ll see. I’m the big fat blueberry Ray’s engaged to. They call me a blueberry because I had on this blue sweater the first time we were seen together and I’ve got these”—I looked down at my boobs and flushed—“well, you know. It’s been a sensation for weeks. I even have a fan club. Other women of a certain size are rooting for me.” I grabbed Ian’s shirt, but his bodyguards—both vamps, but tall, tanned California-surfer types—moved in, obviously not too happy about my touching their boss with anything resembling aggression. He shook his head and they backed off without ripping out my throat. Whew. I carefully smoothed out his shirt.

“Sorry, Ian. Listen, though. I don’t want my size to make me a tabloid headline. This weight-loss thing would be a dream come true. I’m not with Jerry, uh, Jeremiah Campbell, except when he commands my presence. You know, as my maker. Like he did tonight. Ray, Israel Caine, is my guy now.” I gave Flo a warning look when she made a sound. “Please consider taking me on.”

“Obviously we can’t discuss anything here. Not with a Campbell close by. Men of that ilk would just as soon knife you in the back as not.” Ian gestured and his two bodyguards flanked him.

I bit back my knee-jerk response, which was to defend Jerry’s honor. Of course he wouldn’t knife Ian in the back. But he would take great pleasure in killing a MacDonald. Or in trying to. God, I didn’t want to see Jerry fight anyone, ever again. And this would be three against one unless Richard and Damian threw themselves into the fray. Of course Valdez was outside . . .

Forget it. No violence. I’d had enough of it lately, back in Austin, to realize it scared the hell out of me. Sorry if that disappoints you. Not all vampires are bloodthirsty. Well, okay, I’m thirsty for blood, just not for fighting, slashing and general mayhem.

“You’re leaving?” I followed Ian and his men as they headed for the door.

“Yes, I have another engagement that I’m already late for.” Ian handed me a card. “If you wish to hear more about my program, call me tomorrow night and we’ll set up something. A private meeting. Without Campbell interference.” He grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes.

I shivered. This guy took intense to a whole new level. But if he could make me thin . . . “Sure, I can manage that. Like I said, Jerry doesn’t own me. I’m an independent woman. This was a one-shot deal tonight.”

“You said Israel Caine is a vampire. I’ll want to verify that. Bring him when we meet.” He grinned when I stiffened. “Don’t worry. I know how to be discreet or I wouldn’t have a business. And this procedure isn’t cheap. I assume your fiancé will be willing to pay the freight?”

I determinedly kept from collapsing into a sobbing heap. “I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out, though Ray is happy with my figure the way it is. I’m the one who wants to lose the weight.” Money. Why hadn’t I realized this wouldn’t come cheap? And I sure wouldn’t ask either guy in my life to pay for it. Damn, damn, damn. I bit back a question about payment plans.

“I’m sure you have great powers of persuasion, Gloriana. I’ll be expecting to hear from you.” I shivered when he slid a fingertip down my cheek. Then he gestured to his men and strode out the door.

I stood there and stared for a moment. Flo came up behind me.

“This isn’t going to work, is it, mia amica?” She sighed.

“It’s complicated, but I’m not giving up just yet.” I straightened my spine. “Where are the guys?”

“They have a private booth and a thing on the menu called ‘Las Vegas.’ Shall we go see?” Flo tugged me toward a curtained area a few yards away.

Behind a black velvet curtain, Richard and Jerry were seated at a poker table. Each had a glass of dark red at their right hand, a thin cigar hanging out of their mouths and cards on the table in front of them. The stacks of chips showed that the play was about even. A scantily clad waitress hovered nearby to keep their glasses full and their ash-trays empty.