Page 16 of Bad Luck Vampire

“Here we are, dear,” Marguerite said cheerily, sitting in one chair and tapping the one next to her.

A glance at the table showed name cards on top of each plate, and it appeared Marguerite hadn’t had to offer to have her sit with them, Sophie’s name was on the one Marguerite was directing her to. They’d been stuck with her anyway, she thought, and then as Alasdair pulled her chair out for her, she noted that his name was on the plate next to hers.

“Thanks,” she said as she sat down. Sophie watched him take his own seat next to her and then glanced around at the other empty chairs at the table and wondered if Lucian and Leigh and their children would sit with them. Their table was one of the ones that sat nine, so there were obviously four more guests joining them.

“Oh, look! There are Decker and Dani,” Marguerite said suddenly. “I wonder if they have heard any news about Martine.”

Marguerite was talking to Julius, and Sophie had no idea who Martine was, but still looked in the direction Marguerite was, trying to guess which of the people settling into chairs farther down their side of this section of round tables she was talking about. She couldn’t tell; there were several couples at the table she seemed to be looking at.

“We should go say hello,” Marguerite decided after a moment, and stood up. Pausing then, she glanced worriedly down at Sophie. “You will be all right for a few minutes, will you not, dear?”

“Of course,” Sophie assured her, thinking to herself that Marguerite talked like she imagined her grandmother might have if she had lived long enough to be a grandmother. Unfortunately, she’d died giving birth to Sophie’s mother and had never met her daughter let alone Sophie, her granddaughter.

“Alasdair, look after Tybo’s date, please,” Marguerite instructed as she headed away.

“Of course.”

Sophie’s head swung around at the sound of his voice. It was just as husky and almost rusty sounding as the first time he’d spoken. God it was sexy, she thought. So deep, and with the perfect timber to send shivers down her back. He should be a radio DJ or one of those readers for audiobooks or something. She’d listen to everything he narrated.

“I will not be long.”

Sophie turned toward Marguerite in time to see Julius escorting her toward the table she’d been looking at. She watched them go until the pair stopped by a couple and bent to hug first the dark-haired man, and then the blonde woman beside him before either could stand.

“Decker is Marguerite’s nephew by her first marriage. The pretty blonde is his wife, Dani. She’s a doctor,” Alasdair told her quietly.

“So, you can speak whole sentences,” Sophie teased, continuing to watch the table where everyone was now standing to greet and receive hugs from Marguerite and Julius. When Alasdair didn’t respond, she turned to look at him, and had to fight to keep from frowning when she noted the discomfort on his face. He didn’t know how to take her words, she realized. Had he thought them serious, or a put-down? Letting a light grin play on her lips, she said, “I was teasing you, Alasdair. But you do have a very nice voice. You should use it more.”

His eyes widened and they stared at each other briefly. Sophie was staring at his mouth. It looked so firm and soft at the same time and she wondered what it would feel like if she reached out a finger to touch the pillowy pad of his lower lip. Or what it would feel like on hers. She felt her heartbeat pick up and her eyelids begin to droop as she imagined him kissing her. Would he be a good kisser? Would he take her hand, drag her onto his lap, and then just envelop her in his arms and—

Bad Sophie, she chastised herself, forcing her eyes back to fully open. You’re here on a date with Tybo. Remember him? Cute, laughing, good-humored Tybo, who had rescued her from rapey Carl? He— Damn was Alasdair’s face lowering toward hers? Oh God, was he going to kiss her?

You should stop him, Sophie told herself. She was not the type to kiss one man while on a date with another, and yet she found herself unable to move or say anything to stop him. Her heart was beating a rapid tattoo in her chest, and she had goose bumps rising on her arms just at the thought of him kissing her. More than that, the skin on her face was tingling the closer his got to hers, as if the skin were trying to pull itself off her and wrap around him. That or she was getting little electrical shocks off the man. Dear God, this was odd, and why were her nipples hard again? They’d just begun to calm down after he’d released her arm.

Distracted as she was with her imaginings and her body’s response to his nearness, Sophie hadn’t stopped him and his mouth was perilously close to hers when Colle suddenly cursed.

Both of them froze for half a second, and then pulled away from each other and shifted to look at the other man.

“What is it?” Alasdair asked, his voice all gravel.

For a minute, Sophie had thought Colle’s cuss was in reaction to Alasdair’s obvious intention to kiss her, but he wasn’t even looking at them. He was leaning sideways in his seat, his attention shifting between the card on the plate next to his own and the card he’d apparently plucked off the plate next to that.

“Odart’s next to me and Inan next to him. I cannot read the other two cards but I’m betting—”

“Connor and Ludan,” Alasdair finished for him on a growl, not sounding pleased at the prospect. It was an impression that was only reinforced when he muttered, “Another bit of bad luck.”

Sophie was surprised at the words, but was a little distracted with issues of her own. Her response to Alasdair was paramount among them. Obviously, he was her kryptonite for this event and she would have to watch herself. She did not want to become the gal who cheated on her date. It made her extremely grateful that Colle had intervened, if only accidentally. But she couldn’t count on that again. She would have to control herself, Sophie decided, and forced herself to sit up, then crossed her legs to make something of a barrier between her and the tempting Alasdair as she asked lightly, “Is there a problem with your uncles sitting with us?”

When both men turned surprised expressions her way in response to her knowing who they were, Sophie explained, “Marguerite told me who the four men were in the aisle with you before the ceremony, and I’m pretty sure there can’t be more than one man at this wedding named Odart. Or Inan for that matter,” she added, her smile turning wry. “So . . . your uncles? Would their sitting with us be a problem?”

Alasdair and Colle exchanged a glance, and then Alasdair turned back to her and started with, “They are...”

“Ale-swigging, foulmouthed barbarians,” Colle finished for him with something between amusement and exasperation.

When Alasdair grimaced, but nodded agreement with his brother’s description, Sophie chuckled and shrugged. “Well, that should make this evening more entertaining than I expected. I mean, from what I’ve heard, weddings are pretty boring, but ale-swigging, foulmouthed barbarians don’t sound boring.”

While Alasdair took on a surprised smile at her words, Colle burst out laughing.

Sophie shared a smile between the pair of them and then turned to glance toward Marguerite again. Her gaze was on the people milling around the auburn-haired beauty and her husband, all laughing and chatting happily, but her mind was on her breathing and trying to make it slow down. Dear God, Alasdair’s smile was heartbreakingly beautiful. She wished Colle hadn’t interrupted their kiss.

---