My Vampire Cover Model (3 page)

Burn Sheridan strode through the double doors and headed her way. Dressed in black from the long-sleeved turtleneck sweater to the jeans, boots, and huge, mirrored aviator sunglasses, he made quite an impression. Deanna could swear he walked in slow motion. The man certainly attracted a lot of notice. Shopping carts skidded to a stop and women froze in place with their jaws hanging open in shock and raw admiration. The air crackled with the force of his magnetism. Deanna had seen the same reaction from women at the bookstore signing. Burn was a glorious, drool-worthy, hunk of man. He knew it and so did everyone who observed his entrance. His slim, muscular body sauntered so sexily, he could’ve been on a runway at a fashion show.

Her instinct was to run like hell. He had asked her back to his motel room last night and the temptation had been hard to ignore. To be alone with a gorgeous, beyond-handsome model? Deanna had chickened out, plain and simple. She couldn’t even bring herself to tell Janice on the drive home that morning at the crack of dawn. What in hell was he doing here? His scent washed over her again, though it was much more subtle than before. Deanna glanced up. Burn stood next to her. How did he move so quickly?

“Hello, love. Busy at work, I see. Do you get a lunch break?” He looked at his fancy silver watch.

She was speechless. Burn had driven up from New York City? Deanna swallowed.

“Ah, no. I had it already.”

Damn, she hated lying and didn’t like seeing her guilty reflection in his sunglasses. Not seeing his eyes was kind of spooky.

“Shame, that. Though I would prefer we go out to dinner. I need to find a place to stay. Can you recommend a hotel in this quiet little hamlet?” he asked with an engaging smile.

His Irish lilt was slight but singsong, and as appealing as his sexy grin.

“What are you doing here?”

“Carol gave me the information and directions on how to find you. Hope you don’t mind. Don’t want to come across as a stalker.” He flashed his brilliant white smile again, then leaned down and whispered in her ear. “There’s something between us, Dean. I know you feel it, same as I do. I am here to explore the possibilities.”

His searing words weakened her knees. How to answer? Burn touched her chin with his fingers and stroked gently.

“Hotel? Preferably one near your house on Birch Street?”

Jesus, what else did Aunt Carol tell him, my bra size
? “I don’t know about this….”

“Do not think, love. Just feel. When are you off work?”

“Ah, four o’clock. But I think….”

Burn straightened and rubbed his hands together. “Brilliant! I will pick you up at the front doors at four sharp!”

He turned and walked to the door in the same slow-motion style that marked his entrance.

Deanna dropped her ticket gun and headed for the door.
Damn, he’s quick
! She watched as his swift glide across the parking lot reminded her of a sleek and stealthy black panther. Hitting his electronic key, Burn jumped into the driver’s side of a black Lincoln Town Car. The windows were darkened and she couldn’t see inside. The vehicle laid rubber as it tore out of the lot.

What in hell just happened
?

Burney hit the air-conditioning fan and turned it up as high as he could.
Feckin’ hell, my skin’s ablaze
! He shouldn’t be out at high noon, but the desire to see Deanna Brooks overrode common vamp sense. Regardless of movie myth, vampires did not turn to ash when exposed to the sun, but the heated rays caused pain, nonetheless. Even with most of his skin covered, the rays managed to seep into his pores. A feeling of weakness and nausea flooded his body and he needed blood right away to counteract the sensation. He grabbed his cell and deftly one-hand texted the New York Vampire Information Agency. The response was immediate. Bedford-on-Hudson had a blood supplier for vamps. The NYVIA texted him detailed instructions on how to get there from his present location.

His skin settled down now that he sat in the darkened, protective cocoon of his car. The windows had a special UV coating and the air-conditioning blew frosty, fake air over his body, calming his inner inferno. After he picked up his blood, next on his to-do list was to find a motel. Burney required a vamp nap to restore his strength. He would only be able to manage a couple of hours before it was time to pick up Dean. He smiled. The curiosity in her sky blue eyes was evident even as she tried to sound disinterested and dismissive. Also mixed in with her unique scent was the passionate smell of her arousal.

Dean’s Aunt Carol had not given up the information easily. She’d been slightly suspicious of his questions about Dean. He couldn’t blame her. He was sincere in his desire to get to know the lady better, and Carol accepted his heartfelt desire to do so. But how to approach the delectable young lady? Woo her, seduce her, and then tell her about his vampire state? Or tell her first, and then hope she would understand his circumstances? If Dean accepted his soul mating, he would have to drink her blood, and vice versa. Most humans couldn’t or wouldn’t do it. There were so many other considerations to reflect upon, his immortality most of all. He’d heard too many heartbreaking stories of vampires mated to humans who didn’t want to be “changed” into vampires, and subsequently died of old age. He did not want that. He would be devastated. Either you needed to grow old together, or you both lived forever. To Burney, there was no middle ground. He’d had centuries to think about this and would brook no alternative. While he was drawn to her, body and soul, how could he claim to be in love with her? What did he know of love, really?
Hence the wanting-to-get-to-know-you bollocks
.

Burney turned left onto the main drag. Learning more at dinner tonight was a must. If the worst came to the worst, he could effectively erase Dean’s short-term memory. He could not, however, erase his own. If she rejected him and he wiped her mind clean of ever meeting him, he would still carry her essence and the agonizing yearning for eternity.

***

Deanna swiped her employee card through the time clock and headed up the stairs to the main floor of the store. Her nerves sparked under her skin. She wished she could’ve gone home to shower and change. She pushed through the door and right at the curb sat the all-black Lincoln. All that was missing were the diplomatic flags on the hood. She halfway expected the president to step out of the car. Instead, Burn did. He walked around and opened the passenger door for her, like a perfect gentleman. He still wore the black jeans and turtleneck sweater. The tight knit strained against the obvious, sculpted muscles of his arms and chest. Deanna climbed in, and Burn closed the door. He ambled to the driver’s side door, opened it, and sat.
Damn, it’s dark and chilly in his car
.

“So, is the Cobblestone Inn a good place to have a nosh?”

“Is that where you’re staying?”

“Aye, it’s a nice place. Even has a Jacuzzi in the room.” He winked.

Deanna squirmed into her lightweight jacket. So many questions, but they would wait until dinner.

***

The Cobblestone Inn was indeed classy, with a certain medieval look. The restaurant’s focal point was the large, cobblestone fireplace in the center of the room. A small fire burned in the huge hearth, enough to cast a golden and magical illumination. Cast-iron implements adorned the mantle and shelves, and oil paintings of knights and their ladies fair hung on the walls. Seated at a private booth in the corner, Burney ordered them a bottle of red wine. At least he could drink. He’d already had his meal for the week so he wasn’t sure how he was going to sit in a restaurant and not eat, especially while Dean watched. He waved the waiter off. The food order could wait.

Dean took a sip of her wine, lowered the glass to the table, then looked him straight in the eye.

“Why are you here, and I want an answer this time. The honest truth. We met for a few minutes in a bookstore. It hardly merits you following me an hour and half’s drive away. I’ll admit I’m cute, maybe even pretty if I want to stretch it, but I hardly see why I would appeal to a man like you.”

Burney couldn’t help but smile. Dean didn’t realize the potency of her beauty. Even now, he basked in her magnificent splendor and her glorious scent of wildflowers.

“A man like me? Should I be insulted? Because I am a model you assume looks are the sum total of a person? The outer shell is all that counts? I am hardly shallow. Are you?”

“No, of course not! But let’s face it. You’re gorgeous, Burn. You could be with a movie star or another model….”

“Been there and done that. Not interested. I want to know you. I want—
you
.” His voice grew husky with yearning.

Dean took another gulp of wine. Her hand shook as she lowered the glass to the table. The lass had lovely hands with natural-looking, longish nails and clear polish. She didn’t waste her time and money at a salon. She did her own. He was impressed. Erotic images of her sexy claws trailing down his back in passion while Dean writhed under him filled his mind—though as a model, he had to keep his back free from any marks. Good thing his vampire blood allowed him to heal quickly. His cock throbbed painfully in his leather trousers. He needed release, and jerking off did not appeal as an option. He’d tried it already a few times since they’d met last night and nothing dissipated his burning need to possess her.

“You have no response to my declaring I want you? Yes, I drove all this way, took a room at a motel, and I’m staying here until you hear me out. Can you deny you’re attracted to me?”

Dean shook her head. “No, I can’t deny it.”

The waiter walked back to the table and took their order. Burney ordered a garden salad, explaining to her he’d had a large lunch a few hours before. He watched her closely as she quickly scanned the menu. Dean chose an eight-ounce sirloin, medium well, with sautéed mushrooms and garlic mashed potatoes. He liked a woman with a robust appetite. The waiter refilled their water glasses, then sauntered away.

Burney reached across the table and laced his fingers through hers. The searing warmth moved through him and calmed his raging soul. Dean raised an eyebrow at his forward move, but then smiled warmly and squeezed his hand.

“You left a city of over eight million people, a city full of eager, single women and drove up here—for me?” she whispered.

“Aye, love. I did. When I saw you and touched you in the bookstore, I just knew. See the truth in my eyes.”

Dean looked, really looked, and her face softened. He hid nothing. The more time Burney spent with her, the more he wanted her and the further he fell for her.

“I know nothing about you.”

“Ask me anything, Dean.”

He would try and tell the truth as much as he was able.

“Where are you from? Do you have any family? How did you get into modeling?”

Burney laughed, released her hand, and took a sip of his wine.

“I was born in Ireland, but have lived many places in the world, living many lives. I have no surviving family members. However, I am descended from the Irish peerage, which means nothing now since they ended the peerage and my family’s title in the nineteenth century. Modeling is one of many careers I’ve tried. I have been alone and lonely for my whole life.”

I’m so alone, love me, care for me
. His smile disappeared.
Jaysus
. He hated feeling this way. But he knew deep down, he always had. A vampire’s life could be solitary. While he had made a few friends within his cloistered world, he wasn’t exactly close to them. The protective fence was firmly in place from the moment he’d become a vampire. He did not want decades of heartbreaking memories of lost loves and broken relationships.

Many of his kind carried such agonizing reminiscences around with them for centuries. Burney decided early on that would not be him.

His few sporadic dalliances with women were kept strictly physical. He used sex as a way to connect but keep himself separate. He’d never told a woman any of this before. Were the soul-mate ties knotting between them as he spoke? Burney felt exposed and raw and didn’t like it.

Deanna recognized Burn’s inward struggle and watched his protective shutters come down. The cool, impassive face she’d seen on him briefly at the bookstore returned. His jaw set in a determined pose, and his sculpted cheekbones moved in frustration. His eyes turned color, a dark, glittering silver. She knew the change in color couldn’t be from any fancy, magic contacts.

Deanna’s heart pounded and the beat roared in her ears. Her stomach twisted, as she had the feeling she wasn’t going to like the explanation. Her instincts told her to run. However, her heart told her to stay. His loneliness touched her. For once, her emotions overrode all other instincts for the moment, even her growing anxiety. Or maybe it was the man himself calming her fears. His confession opened up feelings she never knew she possessed. She wanted to protect him, to comfort him, and hold him in her arms. What in hell was wrong with her? This man was a stranger. He’d followed her from New York. Wasn’t this a plot in one of those stalker movies? He’d mentioned in the store, in a teasing way, that he didn’t want to come across as one, but she had to wonder. Even so, she recognized the loneliness he spoke of. Deep down, she knew she’d felt alone and lonely most of her life, too. Besides her good friend Janice and her parents, who else was she close to? Change frightened her. It was probably why she stayed cloistered away in the granny house and why she’d kept the department store job since graduating from high school. Burn was upsetting her comfortable routine.

Burn stood and turned away. He must’ve known his eyes had changed color. She hesitated, unsure what to say. He had confessed something so intimate and personal, words seemed inadequate. The only thing she could do was show him how much his words affected her.

Deanna rose from her seat and hugged his back. He flinched briefly but then surrendered to her touch. She laid her cheek against the wool of his sweater and inhaled his spicy, woodsy essence. Yes, he’d touched her heart. There was no past, no future—his or hers—just this one man in this quiet, reflective moment. A man she wanted in all ways.