Chapter 1 : Part 6

Fanged & Fabulous
by Michelle Rowen

(Page 6 of 6)

She smiled patiently at me. "It is so sweet how taken you are with him. I am not saying this to upset you, but it is quite obvious that this will only be a short-term relationship."

"Short-term?"

"You have known him for what . . . less than two months, yes? I know he feels a great sense of responsibility for your safety. From the attention he has paid you, it is understandable that you would become greatly smitten with him."

"Smitten?" I sputtered. "You think I'm smitten?"

She frowned slightly at my words. "Thierry is almost seven hundred years old. You are . . . what? In your mid-thirties?"

"I AM TWENTY-EIGHT!"

"There is no reason to shout, my dear. I am trying to be a friend to you and tell you how things truly are, so you will not be shocked by how things inevitably turn out. I have known Thierry for so, so many years. I know him better than anyone else. I am simply warning you to prepare for his interest to wane." She touched my arm. "I am sorry."

The driver cleared his throat loudly. "If we don't leave soon, ma'am, I'm afraid you'll miss your flight and then I'll - "

I spun around. "And then you'll what?" I snapped.

He took a step backward. "Never mind. Take all the time you need."

Veronique shook her head. "Mon dieu. I should not have said anything. It is simply my desire to see those I care about happy. Being in love with a man such as Thierry will not bring you happiness. He is too old for you. There are too many secrets. Simply too much against you. I apologize for being blunt, but I have only done so as a friend."

It was difficult to be friends with somebody who had been effortlessly perfect for seven centuries. She'd seen everything and done everything at least once. Plus, she had really great hair.

She also had a nasty habit of being right.

I ran a quick hand under my nose, sniffed, and tried to compose myself. "You'd better go. Don't want to miss your plane."

Veronique nodded. "Of course. Take care, my dear."

She looked at me with concern for a moment longer. Then, with a single glance at the driver, she left the club without another word.

I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly and shakily as I tried to compose myself.

"When my Thierry leaves you." Her words kept repeating in my mind like a bad burrito. "It is quite obvious that this will only be a short-term relationship."

I shook my head. No. Thierry wasn't going to break my heart. Our relationship was on solid ground. Rock steady.

Even though he was absolutely perfect and I was far from it, I wanted us to work out. I'd do whatever it took to prove to him that I was the right woman for him. Long-term.

Sure, he'd been a little distracted lately with trying to open the new club in record time. I'd barely seen him at all for the last couple of weeks, but that didn't mean a thing.

Not a damn thing.

It was only a little over two weeks ago that we'd gotten back from a fantastic trip to Mexico. Romance. Margaritas. Sunscreen.

It could have been better, I suppose. Even while staying mostly out of the blaringly bright sun, I'd still managed to get a serious burn on my back that made it difficult to move without screaming. Thierry warned me about staying out of the sun, but I hadn't listened to him. Vampires are not killed by sunlight as is the popular myth. However, it still makes us a bit weaker physically and annoyed by the brightness of the "big ball of fire death" in the sky, which is what I call it now, ever since the sunburn from hell. Especially after going through vats of Noxzema during the healing process. Talk about putting a major crimp in your love life.

After getting back, Thierry focused all his attention on the club. But now that it was open . . .

I glanced around. Where in the hell was he, anyhow?

No. I couldn't think about this right now. I had rumors to worry about. Hunters to hide from. Etcetera.

Veronique was crazy. Thierry and I were just fine. Sure he was a little distant, but that was just the way he was. We had a deep, romantic connection.

Well . . .

Except for the fact that we hadn't had sex since Mexico. Oh, didn't I mention that? Yeah. Might be a problem.

I swallowed hard.

Maybe Veronique wasn't so crazy.

"Sarah - " a deep, familiar voice said from behind me. "George says you're looking for me?"

Copyright © 2007 by Michelle Rowen

About the Author

Michelle Rowen was born in Toronto, Ontario. As a child she decided that when she grew up she would become a flight attendant, a jewel thief, or a writer. One out of three ain't bad. She is a self-confessed bibliophile, the proud owner of an evil cat named Nikita, Reality TV junkie, and has an unhealthy relationship with all things Buffy the Vampire Slayer.