Single White Vampire (Argeneau, #3)

by Lynsay Sands

Dear God, the woman didn’t just eat rabbit food, she wore rabbit slippers.

What she didn’t find amusing was the way women were staring at Luc’s codpiece. The damned thing sparkled and glittered, to jeweled pins catching every passing light. Kate’s own eyes had been drawn repeatedly as well. It was damned embarrassing how distracting the thing was. Not that Lucern seemed to notice. If he was aware of the way two thousand women in the room were gawking at his groin, he pretended not to be and walked with pride. She didn’t know where he got the courage. Had she walked in wearing sparkling cones on her breasts, she would have been cringing and trying to hide them.

“Sure, what’s the problem?” Her friend started to rise. “One of the pins on his codpiece has attached itself to the tablecloth. Maybe you could crawl under the table and set him loose,” she suggested. Chris laughed and paused. “You’re kidding, right?” When she shook her head, he dropped abruptly back into his seat. “Sorry. Codpiece removal is not my department.” “Chris!” Kate said grimly. “Kate,” he responded dryly. “He’s your writer. You crawl under the table and undo him.” “I thought you liked him,” she said accusingly. “Not that much,” Chris shot back. Then he glanced apologetically to Lucern. “Sorry, Luc.” “I quite understand. I’ll manage.” He responded with dignity, but he was blushing fiercely, Kate noted with interest. She hadn’t known that vampires could blush.