Real Vampires Hate Their Thighs Read Online Free PDF Page B

sighed.
    “It’s complicated, but I’m not giving up just yet.” I straightened my spine. “Where are the guys?”
    “They have a private booth and a thing on the menu called ‘Las Vegas.’ Shall we go see?” Flo tugged me toward a curtained area a few yards away.
    Behind a black velvet curtain, Richard and Jerry were seated at a poker table. Each had a glass of dark red at their right hand, a thin cigar hanging out of their mouths and cards on the table in front of them. The stacks of chips showed that the play was about even. A scantily clad waitress hovered nearby to keep their glasses full and their ash-trays empty.
    “Well, this is interesting. When does the floor show start?” I leaned over Jerry’s shoulder and saw that he had a pair of nines and a pair of threes.
    Richard laughed. “Glory, you should have blocked your thoughts. Now I’m folding. You win, Blade.” Richard threw in his cards and turned to Flo. “Can we leave now? Are you both through with your diet wizard?”
    “He was a phony, like you said, amante .” Flo looked at me. “We waste no more time on such as that.”
    “Glad to hear it.” Jerry raked in the poker chips. “Richard, you owe me big bucks here.”
    “Here’s how I’ll repay you. Flo and I are leaving and you and Glory can have this room to yourselves. We’re taking KiKi with us.” Richard smiled at the waitress and pressed what looked like a large bill in her hand. “No one will disturb you for the next hour. How’s that for a payback?”
    “Sounds like a plan.” Jerry grinned at me. “I think I’m finally going to see how Glory danced in Vegas.”
    “You wish.” I strolled around the room. Sure enough, there were some costumes on the shelves in one corner behind a screen. So role-playing was encouraged here. Well, that was something I could get into. There was also a small stereo and a selection of music that could work for a dance number. I peeked out from behind the screen. “Didn’t you guys say you were leaving? Dim the lights on your way out.” I grinned and winked at Flo. My friend had known just what to say to cover for me. I’d worry about diets and money tomorrow night. Tonight I was going to appreciate the guy who loved me as is, curves and all.
    Jerry leaned back in his chair, the cigar stubbed out in an ashtray and carried off by KiKi. The stained glass lamp hanging over the table dimmed to cast a red glow, and Jerry looked handsome and mysterious in its light.
    “Give me a minute to put on my costume, lover, and I’ll dance for you.” I gave him a finger wave, then disappeared behind the screen. The costumes were skimpy and sparkly. I chose one that had fishnet hose, a bikini bottom with gold spangles that hit halfway down my thighs and a bra top cut low enough to leave little to the imagination. Both bra and bikini were made of a sheer material guaranteed to make Jerry’s eyes bug out.
    I hit play on the stereo and picked up a black feather boa. When the music started, I eased one arm out from behind the screen and waved the feathers. Gradually, I revealed myself until I could strut around the table toward Jerry. His eyes weren’t bugging out. They were narrowed. On me, on my costume. On the way I moved my hips as I walked in my high heels, while staying just out of his reach. Not that he was trying to grab me. Nope. He just stared, his mouth firm, his eyes dark. What was he thinking? That I was a lowborn slut like his mother had always said? I stumbled, then steadied.
    Not thinking that way. I was a good dancer. I’d done what I’d had to do to earn a living. I’d been a product of my times. In 1604 I’d had no opportunity to be educated, to learn a trade, and I’d not had the luck to be born into a noble family. I’d been the widow of an actor when Jerry had met me. In the centuries since then I’d used my wits to survive and educate myself. I’d refused to depend on him or his money. Glory St. Clair, the original independent