Vampire 03 by Deep Midnight

Author:Deep Midnight
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

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The dottore was a German with a good grasp of Italian and a little English. He was a pleasant man.

As they danced, she saw that Cindy had come down with Jared. At least, she thought it was Jared.

Her German dottore was fun, and a wild dancer. After three numbers, she was breathless, and begged herself off the dance floor. Downing a tall glass of mineral water, she saw that there were now at least four dottores in the room.

She wished that Jared had opted for something a little more original, at least chosen different costumes for each party.

A few moments later, she was pulled out to the floor by another dottore. She stared into his eyes the best she could while moving to the music.

No, not Jared.

During an excellent interpretation of an Elvis Presley ballad, Ragnor cut in on the dottore. She thought about protesting, then wondered why. She was attracted to him. She liked being with him, even if her thoughts ran to the erotic. She was an adult; Steven had been gone now for a long time. She didn’t deserve the guilt with which she seemed to be punishing herself.

She allowed herself to be drawn comfortably into his arms.

“Still no sign of Tiff?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No.”

“There’s something really wrong.”

“She may still turn up,” he murmured.

She didn’t think that he believed that.

When the song broke, she told him that she was thirsty. A cold beer seemed the best thirst quencher, since there had been so much dancing that they had actually run out of bottled water.

For a moment, Jordan reflected on what she might be doing to her liver. Champagne, Bellinis, red wine, espresso with Kahlua, and now beer. But it was very cold and felt so good going down.

Ragnor wasn’t wearing a mask or sunglasses. For once, she could see his eyes. He seemed to be searching for someone.

“Looking for Tiff?”

“What?” he asked, as if she had startled him. “Um. Excuse me for a moment, will you?”

Once again, he simply walked off.

Lynn found her by the table. “Hey, that’s my favorite disco song. Want to dance with a matador?”

Jordan looked out to the floor. Guests had begun to depart, and the dancing had gotten down to a group of happy—partly sloshed—people wildly moving about. As usual at most such gatherings, the sex of a partner didn’t matter anymore. People were just having fun.

“Sure.”

“The costume may not have been such a great idea,” Lynn admitted, shouting above the music as she gyrated. “No cute guys have hit on me! Actually, no guys have hit on me.”

“I’m afraid it might be the mustache!” Jordan called back to her.

A moment later, another dottore popped in front of her. Lynn had turned around to dance with the gypsy sun god on her other side.

“So?”

Jordan raised her brows, looking at her companion.

“It’s me, Jared. Are you having fun? What’s the matter, too many Venetian friends? You don’t talk to me anymore?”

She laughed. “Jared, I’ve tried conversations with a German and, I think, a Brazilian dottore.

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