"No." Lucern hadn't heard of any doc.u.mentaries being filmed.

"They're always shooting doc.u.mentaries 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."

"d.a.m.n," 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 d.a.m.ned 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.

"d.a.m.n," she said.

"What is it?" Lady Barrow asked, frowning. Something of an uproar started on the other side of the tablecloth.

Everyone seemed to be talking at once.

"I'm caught on one of the pins of his..." Kate gasped, rushing forward on her knees to keep her sleeve from ripping as Lucern suddenly scooted backward. The squeal of his chair legs on the floor drowned out her cry of alarm, and she was forced to hurry out from under the table as he started to rise. Kate blinked against a sudden flash, heard Lucern cursing, but was briefly blinded. It had been dark under the table.

"Watch out, Mr. Amirault," Lady Barrow warned, crawling out from under the table. "She's got her sleeve caught on your..."

Lady Barrow went silent upon seeing the newest additions to their audience. Kate became aware of them, too, her eyes adjusting and slowly noting the film camera pointed in her direction. There was a photographer, too, with a very professional-looking camera. The flash had been him taking a picture, she realized.

Lucern, doing his best to ignore her hand hanging in front of his groin, said in a pained, polite tone; "Call me Luc, please, Lady Barrow."

"My, my, my," the man with the professional-looking camera said. "You didn't mention this event to me, Lady Barrow."

"Who...?" Kate began, just knowing she didn't want to hear the answer.

"The local paper," Lady Barrow said grimly. She got to her feet. "And now that this emergency is over, I guess I'd better take care of the next."

Jodi and the other writers helped the woman brush down her skirts; then Kathryn Falk took the reporter's arm, turned him away and started to walk him toward her own table.

"I'll lay money she has that man eating out of her hand in ten minutes," Jodi said with admiration. Turning to Lucern and Kate, she smiled encouragingly. "That picture won't make the papers. I guarantee it."

Chapter Fourteen.

They made the front page of the Daily News.

"That weasel of a reporter swears he didn't give it to his editor, but I don't know who else could have," Kathryn Falk said in a disgruntled tone. She had called Kate and Luc first thing in the morning and requested they meet her in the main restaurant for breakfast. Kate had immediately suspected the worst. And she'd been right.

She stared miserably at the newspaper photo. There was Lucern, half-standing and looking all handsome in his froufrou costume, and there was she, looking like some cheap wench crawling out from under the table to grab him by the... She sighed miserably and read the headline again. "Medieval Moments?" it screamed in big letters.

Roundhouse Publishing Editor Kate C. Leever grabs all the gusto she can from vampire romance author Luke Amirault, as Kathryn Falk, Lady Barrow, CEO and founder of the Romantic Times Magazine, looks on at the Renaissance Ball last night.

Kate groaned and started to slam the paper down, but paused to reread the byline. She looked more carefully at the picture.

"When I get my hands on that man, I'm going to-" Lady Barrow began.

"I think he's telling the truth," Kate interrupted wearily. "It seems to me that newspaper man's flash went off just as I came out from under the table. You were still under there. But you're in this picture."

Lady Barrow took the paper and peered at it, a frown forming on her face. "I think you're right. But who else could have taken it? Cameras weren't allowed. We had hired a photographer to take photos of people. The only guests with cameras were reporters and..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes narrowing. "Why, that..." She cut herself off, clearly displeased. "If you'll excuse me, I have something to take care of."

She stood, then paused and forced a smile. "Don't worry about this. It's all a tempest in a teapot. It'll pa.s.s quickly if you don't give interviews about it."

Kate and Lucern nodded, then watched Lady Barrow leave the restaurant-no doubt to skin a certain photographer.

Kate sighed. Lucern did too. They avoided looking at each other. They had been avoiding looking at each other ever since last night. Jodi had helped untangle Kate's sleeve from his codpiece, after which he had promptly excused himself.

Kate had then settled at the table where Jodi and the other writers had tried to cheer her, while Chris had tried valiantly not to laugh. Chuck had come by twice to talk to the writers and toss glares her way. Allison had come by at least three times to rea.s.sure her that everything would be fine. Chris had again tried not to laugh.

When Lucern hadn't returned after half an hour, Kate had excused herself and gone back to their suite. Lucern had just been coming out of his room. His gaze had touched hers, then shifted quickly away as he asked if the ball was over. Kate had told him it wasn't, but she had a headache and wanted to lie down. He'd made a sympathetic comment, told her that he'd just come upstairs for a drink-from which she gathered that he'd had some blood-then had said perhaps he'd just relax in the suite, too.

Kate had merely shrugged. She felt depressed and miserable, a gigantic failure at life and wondered how everything had gone so wrong.

And that had been before her folly was plastered all over the newspaper.

She sighed again.

"I guess we should head to the hospitality suite," Lucern finally suggested.

Kate grimaced. She'd had to drag him to the blasted thing that first day; now he was all eager to go. And she wasn't. The last thing in the world Kate wanted was to go anywhere she might have to face Chuck Morgan. If the publisher hadn't been pleased with her last night, today, after seeing the headlines, he would be livid. If she still had her job by noon, she'd be a lucky woman. But, she told herself, there was no sense in dragging it out. She might as well go learn the awful truth.

It wasn't as bad as she'd feared. In some ways, it was worse. Kate still had a job. In fact, Chuck was terribly pleased with the publicity. Lucern had made the front page, after all. As had Roundhouse Publishing. The man kept congratulating her as if her public humiliation was some sort of grand promotional scheme. Kate would have liked to choke him. By the end of the day, she decided that if he patted her in that congratulatory manner one more time, she was going to.

It was more than a relief to Kate when they closed up the hospitality suite and everyone was freed to prepare for the night's Rock 'n' Roll party.

Her gaze went to Lucern. The man had come out of his sh.e.l.l with a vengeance. Every time she'd looked his way today, he'd been talking to a fan or another writer. Kate couldn't be sure, but she suspected he'd done more talking since arriving at this conference than he had in the past several decades. He'd become more loquacious with each pa.s.sing day, and today had been no exception.

Of course, there wasn't a single solitary conference attendee who hadn't seen the headlines. The news of the situation had also made the rounds, and while most people were terribly sympathetic with both her and Lucern, there were a few who still snickered. They offered their "You poor dears" or their "How embarra.s.sing it must be for yous,"

while they chuckled nonetheless. Of course, Lucern wasn't suffering those little snickers. Everyone seemed to feel great sympathy for him, saving all their amus.e.m.e.nt for her.

Which was usually the way of it, Kate thought wearily as she walked toward the table with Lucern and the other writers; the woman always suffered the scorn and humiliation, while the man walked away with the glory or sympathy. Unfortunately, try as she might, Kate couldn't be angry at Lucern for the way other people acted. He had apologized repeatedly while Kate and Jodi had worked to untangle her sleeve from his codpiece, and she knew he really felt bad about the whole thing. But it hadn't been his fault. It had just been one of life's unfortunate incidents.

Lucern glanced at her as she approached, and Kate managed to pull a smile from the depths of herself.

"Time to go?" he asked.

"Yes." She smiled at him, then the table in general. "Time to get ready for the Rock 'n' Roll party."

Lucern stood and took her hand, his gaze moving over her face with a tinge of what she thought might be concern.

"You look weary."

"It was a long day," Kate agreed with a small shrug. They left the hospitality suite. They didn't speak again until they reached their own. Chris hadn't returned yet, and the suite was empty and silent.

"What does one wear to a rock and roll party?" Lucern asked as he closed the door behind them.

"Well, I gather it's an oldies type party. Fifties. Jeans and T-shirts will do. I brought a leather jacket and boots for you to wear," Kate explained. She had said she would take care of everything, and she had to the best of her abilities.

"A leather jacket?" Lucern asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes. You know, the Fonzie look."

"The who?"

She frowned at his bewildered expression, then recalled he didn't watch television. He'd missed loads, she realized with amazement. "He's a cool fifties character from a series. Leather jacket, jeans, leather boots and greased back hair.

Very cool."

"Ah. Yes, I recall a couple characters like that from those days." Lucern nodded. "But how did you know what boot size to get?"

Kate flushed and shrugged, then turned toward her door. She was slipping through it when she admitted, "I called your mother and asked."

She didn't wait for his response, simply closed the door on his startled expression. Then she went to pull out the bagged clothing from the costumers. She set the bag holding the leather jacket and boots on the bed, then held the see- through bag with her own costume up for inspection. This was certainly going to be an adventure. The costume didn't look at all appealing. She'd bet anything that those crinolines were going to itch like crazy.

Actually, she'd been wrong, Kate admitted sometime later as she surveyed herself in the mirror. She wore saddle shoes, bobby socks, the pink poodle skirt and a cream sweater set. She'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail and gone light on the makeup, and she looked about sixteen. She shook her head at her reflection, then decided she was ready and walked out to collect the bag with Luc's costume.

Chris and Luc were both watching television when Kate joined them in the living room, and her gaze slid from one's oil-slicked head to the other. She gaped. "What have you two done to your hair?"

Chris turned and grinned. "Isn't it great? Luc helped me with it. I didn't bring a leather jacket, but he said if I stuck a pack of cigarettes under my T-shirt sleeve I'd look just as cool."

Kate looked at Lucern. Great. Now she had two grease-slicked Fonzies on her hands. Still, other than the hairstyle, they were very different. Chris's hair was light, while Lucern's was as dark as midnight. Chris was tall and wiry, his body lanky rather than having the muscular breadth of Luc's. Chris's T-shirt was plain white; Lucern's was black and pulled tight across his chest, showing every ripple of his muscles. G.o.d, he looked hot. Even with enough grease in his hair to fry donuts.

"Is that for me?" Lucern stood and walked over, his gaze sliding across her in a slow caress.

"Yes." Kate handed him the bagged clothing, aware her face was flushing. She not only looked sixteen, she felt sixteen at the moment.

"You look lovely," he said in a whisper-soft voice. "Sweet and cute. The picture of youth."

Sweet and cute. Kate chewed over those words as Luc unwrapped his boots and jacket, then donned them. Puppies were cute. And who wanted to look like "the picture of youth"?

"A perfect fit."

Kate glanced at Lucern where he stretched, testing the fit in the shoulders of his jacket. Her gaze didn't settle on his shoulders, though, but on his chest where the muscles bunched. Cute and youthful. She sighed.

"Looks great." Chris got to his feet and joined them at the center of the room. "Let's get going. I have to stop and pick up a pack of cigarettes to stick under my sleeve."

Kate managed to tear her gaze from Lucern's chest. She nodded, then turned to lead the way out.

The Rock 'n' Roll party was in full swing when they arrived. Kate took one look at the dancers-mostly women- and winced. Some of them were very good. Some obviously didn't have a clue what they were doing. Kate very much feared she would fall into the latter category.

"I suppose you know the dances?" she asked Lucern. At her pained expression, he grinned one of his rare grins and nodded.

"Very well, actually." Then he added, "I'll teach you." To Kate, who was of the considered opinion that she had two left feet, that sounded very much like a threat. But Lucern was a very good teacher and, being one of so few men, he was much in demand. He took everything with a good grace that nearly sent Kate into coma from the shock. She watched him dance with twenty or so women at a time. He lined them up in rows, patiently teaching them steps amidst much giggling, then twirled the women about in the air with the strength and stamina of a bull. The women thought he was marvelous. Kate did, too. She couldn't believe this was the same surly man who'd once slammed a door in her face. This man smiled. This man had the patience of Job. This man was every woman's dream. She even let him teach her how to dance.

The party was great fun, but Kate had suffered a stressful day and she found herself growing tired early. Lucern apparently noticed the yawns she was trying to hide. "You have to leave," he said, coming over and collecting her. He then lectured her all the way back to their suite-mostly about not eating enough. He had apparently noticed she'd been too busy talking to her writers to eat more than a few bites from the buffet.

"I don't like it. You have to take better care of yourself," he insisted firmly. "You expend far too much time and energy on behalf of your writers, myself included," he complained.

Kate tried to defend herself, pointing out that this was only one week a year.

Luc wasn't fool enough to fall for it. "Jodi mentioned many other conventions that are held throughout the year,"

he said. "And I hear you frequently work nights and even weekends, editing and reading books from your 'slush pile.'

Kate made a mental note to block Jodi from her Windows instant messenger after hours, if the author was going to go and tattle on her. She always kept her instant messenger signed on while she was in the office, in case one of her writers had a question. Jodi often berated her for working so much, but the last thing Kate needed was Lucern knowing she had absolutely no social life.

Of course, he had apparently lost interest in pursuing the pa.s.sion they had briefly shared. He hadn't tried anything since that first night and the morning after. That had been Tuesday and Wednesday. It was now Friday night, and other than holding her hand in a calming manner, Lucern hadn't done anything to initiate another such occurrence.

Of course, neither had she, Kate admitted to herself. She eyed him consideringly. Perhaps...

"You're going to bed the moment we get back in the room. And I don't want to see you again until at least seven a.m. That means ten hours of sleep. You need it," Lucern said firmly, interrupting her thoughts as they stepped out of the elevator.

Kate sighed inwardly. There was no "perhaps" about it; the man wasn't interested in bedding her any longer, and he had just made sure she wouldn't get the idea herself. Had those first two pa.s.sionate encounters been caused purely by his need for blood? Perhaps he had deliberately seduced her only in an effort to "have a nibble." Perhaps she hadn't noticed his lack of true interest the first two times because she had been so overwhelmed, hadn't been aware of the fact that he might deliberately excite her only to bite her. She had certainly been aware of it the third time and noticed it then, but only until his practiced, deliberate a.s.sault on her senses had overwhelmed her. Perhaps he wasn't at all interested in her as anything but dinner.

Why had she thought otherwise? And when had it started to mean so much?

Kate sighed unhappily as they entered their suite. It was rather disheartening to be nothing but a snack.

"Sleep well." Lucern gave her a gentle push toward her bedroom door, and Kate went without comment. She managed to murmur good night before slipping inside, but that was just for pride's sake. Her shoulders slumped, her heart sore as she began to undress.

Lucern watched the door close behind Kate and frowned to himself. The woman worked too hard, ate too little, and was killing herself to keep everyone happy-including himself. She needed rest. She needed to eat more. And, above all, she needed to relax. He could think of many ways to help her do that. Unfortunately, most involved both of them naked, and he wasn't at all sure she would welcome that now that she knew the truth about him. It had been his experience that most women were repulsed by his being a vampire. Kate certainly wasn't the first woman who had learned his secret over the years, and he had found, more often than not, they became afraid of him upon learning the truth. To keep himself and his family safe, he had often had to exert himself to veil their memories, or persuade them the revelation was just a dream.

Kate hadn't appeared frightened, though. She'd seemed to look at his vampirism as just a problem. Luc was a vampire, but he was also one of her most successful writers, and he needed blood. She had had to find him some. She had even been willing to indulge in intimacies in the men's washroom to accommodate him. Other than that, however, she had shown no sign of interest.

He recalled, his first night here and the first morning, when they had found themselves in pa.s.sionate circ.u.mstances.