The last chorus of blahs ended on a high note, alerting Lucern to the fact that it had been a question. He wasn't sure what the question was, but he could sense that a no would probably provoke an argument.
"Yes," he blurted, hoping to be rid of the stubborn woman. Much to his relief, the answer pleased her and sent her back to the hall door.
"Blah blah blah… pick my room."
He could almost taste the blood, its scent was so heavy in the air.
"Blah blah… change into something more comfortable."
He was starving.
"Blah blah be right back and we can go."
The door closed behind her, and Lucern whirled back to the sink. He moaned. The bag was almost completely drained. It was flat. Nearly. Feeling somewhat desperate, he picked it up, tipped it over his mouth and squeezed, trying to wring out the last few drops. He got exactly three before giving up and tossing the bag into the garbage with disgust. If there had been any question before, there wasn't now. Without a doubt, Kate C. Leever was going to make his life a living hell until she left. He just knew it.
And what the heck had he agreed to anyway?
Chapter Two
"Shopping!"
Kate laughed at Lucern's disgusted mutter as they entered the 24-hour grocery store. He'd been repeating it every few minutes since leaving the house. At first he'd said the word as if he couldn't believe he'd agreed to go. Then, as they'd driven here in his BMW, that dismay had turned to disgust. You'd think the man had never gone food shopping before now! Of course, judging by how empty his cupboards were, Kate supposed he hadn't. And when she'd commented on the lack of food in his home on the way out of the house, he'd muttered something about not having replaced his housekeeper yet. Kate presumed that meant he ate out a lot in the meantime.
She hadn't bothered to inquire as to what had become of his previous housekeeper. His personality was answer enough. No doubt the poor woman had quit. Kate herself would have, she knew.
She led him to the rows of empty shopping carts. As she started to pull one out, Lucern grunted something that might have been "Allow me," but could just as easily have been "Get the hell out of the way." He then took over the chore.
In Kate's experience, men always preferred to do the driving—whether it was a car, a golf cart, or a shopping basket. She suspected it was a control issue, but either way it was handy; it meant she was free to fill the thing up.
She began to make a mental list of what she should get as she led the way toward the dairy section. She would have to be sure she got lots of fruits and vegetables for Lucern. The man was big and muscular, but far too pale. It seemed obvious to her that he was in dire need of some green leafy vegetables.
Maybe vegetables would improve his mood, too.
Lucern needed blood. That was the one thought pulsing through his mind as he followed Kate C. Leever through the dairy section, the frozen-food section, and now down the coffee aisle. The cart was filling up quickly. Kate had already tossed various yogurts, cheeses, eggs and a ton of frozen gourmet dinners in it. Now she paused in the coffee aisle and considered the various packages before turning to ask, "What brand do you prefer?"
He stared at her blankly. "Brand?"
"Of coffee? What do you normally drink?"
Lucern shrugged. "I do not drink coffee."
"Oh. Tea, then?"
"I do not drink tea."
"But you—," She narrowed her eyes. "Hot chocolate? Espresso? Capuccino?" When he shook his head at all her suggestions, she asked with exasperation: "Well, what do you drink then? Kool-Aid?"
A titter of amusement drew Lucern's attention to a plump young woman pushing a cart up the aisle toward them. She was the first shopper they'd come across since entering the store. Between the debacles with the blood bags, the tea in the living room, and the bit of time Kate had taken to settle in and change, it was now nearly midnight. The grocery store wasn't very busy at this hour.
Now that her giggle had caught his attention, the shopper batted her eyelashes at Lucern and he found himself smiling back, his gaze fixed on the pulse at the base of her throat. He imagined sinking his teeth there and drawing the warm, sweet blood out of her. She was his favorite sort to drink. Plump, pink women always had the best, richest blood. Thick and heady and—
"Mr. Argeneau? Earth calling Lucern!"
Luc's pleasant imaginings shattered. He turned reluctantly back to his editor. "Yes?"
"What do you like to drink?" she repeated.
He glanced back at the shopper. "Er… coffee's fine."
"You said you don't drink cof—Never mind. What brand?"
Lucern surveyed the choices. His eyes settled on a dark red can with the name Tim Hortons. He'd always thought that was a donut shop or something. Still, it was the only name he recognized, so he pointed at it.
"The most expensive one, of course," Kate muttered. She picked up a can of fine grind.
Lucern hadn't noticed the price. "Stop complaining. I am paying for the groceries."