PASSION'S VINTAGE: THE STAR Read online

  "Just hurry. I have a hoard of fans down here and a mountain of books."

  "As soon as I'm ready, I'll be there. See you in a few..." Bryn powered down the phone. "I really need to consider getting a different agent. Paula is way too interested in her own bank account."

  Bryn slipped the warmed gown on and adjusted her buttons in front of the mirror. She left the top two undone to show off the way her bustier made her breasts mound up, and the bottom ones undone to mid-thigh, showing off an awful lot of leg. If she sat just right, the lacy top of her stockings would be visible but her panties would still be well covered.

  She brushed out her long strawberry-blonde hair then used a simple velvet band to hold her mane back from her brow, leaving the full length loose, to swing her hips. Staring at her reflection she pulled the neckline over to check the bite-marks on her shoulders. The bathroom mirror at the cabin had been up too high for her to really see anything.

  There was no trace of a mark on either shoulder. Not even a bruise.

  She blinked. "So that vampire myth is true... Okay." She proceeded to do her make up.

  Bryn stepped out of the hotel elevator on the main floor and immediately felt over-dressed. The lobby floor was flooded to capacity with scantily clad fantasy-costumed convention goers. Models in silver and green body-paint, pasties and g-strings abounded. Elaborately costumed young men snapped picture after picture of the posing space-honeys.

  Grinning at the silliness around her, Bryn slipped through the crowd. The book room was the full length of the hotel away and deep in the hotel basement. She was a full head shorter than most of the convention patrons so she was invisible to even her most rabid fans. Bryn walked right up to her own display table before anyone realized who she was. She was promptly mobbed for autographs and answers to questions about the characters and situations in her books.

  The crowd died down and Paula, prim in her stylish haircut, and short-skirted black business suit brought Bryn a fresh cup of coffee from the "Coffee Shoppe of Horrors" coffee stand.

  "How do you do that?"

  Bryn sat back in her folding chair and sipped. "How do I do what?"

  "How do you know what to say to everyone? Hell how do you talk, and write your name at the same time?"

  Bryn laughed. "Questions are easy, I wrote all my stuff so it's all in my head..."

  "Still?"

  Bryn nodded and smiled. "Of course. It's where it came from; it doesn't go anywhere! Just don't ask me to recite anything word for word... As for writing and talking, my signature is on autopilot. I'm good at multi-tasking."

  Paula frowned. "You never lose anything?"

  Bryn studied Paula curiously. "No Paula, I never lose a story that I've created."

  Paula shook her head. "I just find that hard to believe."

  Bryn set her coffee aside. "Paula? Is something bothering you?" Something cold and slimy brushed against her thoughts. Not invasive, more like a passing breeze. She felt her stomach do a slow sickening turn. A passing breeze from an open sewer...

  Paula's suddenly stood up and smiled. "He's back!"

  Bryn looked up at Paula. "Who's back?"

  Paula brushed her hands down her skirt. "The gentleman that wanted to speak to you. His name is Boyd, Boyd Ransom."

  Bryn turned around. A tall dark-haired, blindingly handsome man was headed straight for her table. He was impressively dressed in an expensive suit and oozed charm from his broad million-dollar smile. At the same time, his thoughts oozed the unwholesome steaming chill of a cesspit.

  Somehow, Bryn just knew that he was a vampire, but from what she was picking up, he was nothing like Nick or Conner. She had the distinct impression that this man ate people whole then spat out the bones.

  And Paula wanted her to write for him? Not in this lifetime! Bryn didn't even want to be in the same hotel he stood in.

  Ransom walked up to the table and aimed his hundred-watt smile at Paula. He looked over at Bryn with ice-blue eyes. He lifted his nose and his smile grew feral, as though he'd caught the scent of something interesting, and tasty. "So your prodigal writer finally made it?"

  Paula held out her hand. "Welcome back, Mr. Ransom, yes, this is Bryn Savage."

  Ransom took Paula's hand politely then offered his hand to Bryn. "Miss Savage?"

  "Yep, that's me." Bryn smiled civilly, and kept her hands clasped tight behind her. She was not touching him. If she did, she'd heave all over his shiny shoes.

  Ransom pulled back his hand, and curled it into a fist. His smile stayed as bright as ever, but his eyes narrowed sharply. "Did Paula tell you that I'm interested in having you write for my show?"

  "Yes she did." Bryn nodded and slanted a look at Paula. The agent looked positively star-struck. Bryn raised a brow at Ransom. "However, I don't write science fiction Mr. Ransom -- "

  "Call me Boyd."

  Bryn shook her head. "Yes well, I'm afraid that I can't write for you."

  "Bryn!" Paula gasped. "What are you saying?"

  Ransom leaned closer. His gaze became very intent, and his smile chilled. "Sure you can."

  Bryn felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. Her hands fisted at her sides. "No, really. I don't think there is anything I contribute to your show."

  Ransom's smile remained but there was a hunger burning in his eyes. "I really would like to add you to my staff." His voice was soft, and laced with predatory intent. "If not as a writer, then perhaps as something else? I can be very generous."

  Bryn continued to smile and felt her jaw clench. "That's very kind, but no thank you."

  Ransom abruptly straightened and a wrinkle formed between his brows. "Shall we talk more on this later? Say, over dinner?"

  "Yes!" Paula practically shouted.

  Bryn shot a hot glare at her agent. "No, thank you Mr. Ransom. I'm very sorry, but I have a previous engagement."

  Ransom suddenly slammed his hands down on the table, looming, large and intimidating over her. "Let me explain something Miss. Savage..." His voice was icy with anger. "I know a lot of people. I can utterly destroy your writing career."

  It took every drop of willpower Bryn possessed not to flinch back. He was way too close. She wanted very, very badly to retch, but she knew better than to back down from a bully. Fear acted like blood in shark-infested water. Instead, she set her hands on the table, leaned toward him and stared straight into his ice-blue eyes. "Let me explain something to you Mr. Ransom. Threats are not the way to gain any type of cooperation from me."

  Ransom smiled with sudden carnal heat. "So you have a temper, do you? You must be very passionate."

  Bryn nodded. "So they tell me."

  "How interesting." Ransom slowly withdrew and his expression held assessment. "I will see you later, Miss Savage."

  Bryn bared her teeth in a smile that had not one drop of friendliness in it. "Not if I can avoid it, Mr. Ransom."

  "That sounds like a challenge, Miss Savage." Ransom smiled broad enough to flash overlong incisors. "I can appreciate a good challenge." He abruptly turned on his heel and stalked off.

  Bryn let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. That was really, really, nasty... A fine trembling shook her hands and her skin felt icy.

  "Bryn!" Paula's voice shook. She was very close to tears. "How could you? He can make your career!"

  Bryn rounded on her agent. "That man is a walking cesspit! If he didn't get out of my face, I was going to puke all over his suit, and I would have enjoyed doing it."

  Paula's expression went cold. "He was a perfect gentleman, and you were being a raging bitch!"

  Bryn tilted her head to one side. "If you like him so much why don't you work for him?"

  Paula turned her head away and crossed her arms. "I'm not a writer. He's looking for a writer."

  Chapter Five

  ~ Punishment ~

  A sharp whistle echoed across the dealer's room, followed by a bout enthusiastic clapping.

  "Bravo!"

  "You sho
wed that little piss-ant!"

  Bryn froze in place. The voices were eerily familiar. She leaned over the table to look past Paula. Her mouth fell open.

  Conner smiling sardonically and Nick grinning like a demon were striding purposely toward her table through dumbfounded convention goers. Both of them sported brimmed fedoras and ankle-length leather coats; Conner in soot-black and Nick with his customary sunglasses on, in ash-gray, light and dark, side by side.

  Bryn felt a rush of warm relief, and then a shiver of feminine fear. She could feel the soft breeze of their presence in her thoughts, and what she was picking up told her that they were none too happy with her. Uh, oh... I think I may be in trouble.

  Conner nodded in greeting. "You handled him quite well."

  Bryn winced. "You saw that?"

  Conner smiled. "And to think, we were actually worried about you."

  Bryn blinked. "Worried about me?"

  Nick arched a brow. "Why do you think we're standing here, up to our eyeballs in..."

  "People." Conner slanted a look at the staring convention goers.

  Nick aimed a vicious smile at the half-a dozen fans standing goggle-eyed at her table. "Our turn to talk to the writer." He waved. "Bye-bye!"

  The small crowd took two steps back, turned tail and fled.

  Nick turned around to survey the rest of the staring crowd clogging the narrow isle. "What?" His lip curled. "Don't you have other people to stare at? Scram!"

  The walkway cleared in seconds.

  Nick nodded. "That's better..." He tugged his lapels and cracked his neck. "Now, where were we?"

  Conner shook his head. "Really, Nick, must you?"

  Nick's brows shot up. "What?"

  Conner sighed. "Can't take him anywhere..." He speared Bryn with a sharp look. "Now, as for you, young lady, you left us rather abruptly..."

  "Look I'm sorry, but..." Bryn felt the words drying on her tongue. "I couldn't stay, I had to go." Her voice ended in a squeak.

  "I understand." Conner nodded. "You had an obligation, however it is not safe for you to be here." His expression and his voice softened. "Come on, we'll help you get your things."

  Bryn waved at the pile of unsigned books. "But Conner..."

  "Just who the hell are you?" Paula grabbed Bryn by the arm, and pulled her back from the table.

  "Hey, take it easy!" Bryn twisted her arm, in Paula's grip. "It's okay, they're friends of mine."

  "She can't go, she just got here!" Paula's hold tightened to a death-grip. "She has work to do!"

  Bryn jerked back from her agent. "Paula! Let go of me! What are you doing?"

  Conner raised a brow. "Bryn? We are leaving. Now."

  Something deep within Bryn's core responded to the soft-spoken command. A hard shiver shook her, and thoughts of refusal fled. She turned to Paula and pulled on her arm. "Sorry Paula, I gotta go..."

  Paula rounded on Bryn. "You're not going anywhere, you have an appointment."

  Bryn stilled. "With who?" Then she felt it, the soft reek of sewer filth. It was coming from Paula. Bryn bared her teeth. "Oh no, I am not going anywhere near that piece of shit actor you're trying to get me to write for..."

  Paula's lip curled. "You'll write for whoever I tell you to write for, or your career is over, you hear me?"

  "What is wrong with you?" Bryn felt a hot blaze of anger, and insight. "Are you fucking him?"

  Paula's cheeks reddened, and her eyes went hard. "None of your god-damned business."

  Nick leaned menacingly across the table. "I suggest you let her go lady. Right now."

  Paula bared her teeth at Nick. "Touch me, and I'll get your ass kicked out of this hotel, right now."

  Bryn felt a hot wave of fury. How dare she threaten Nick? "You want to kick someone out? Fine..." She used her captured arm to jerk Paula around to face her then, snapped out an open-handed slap across the agent's cheek.

  Paula gasped and fell back, releasing Bryn. Her hands flew to her cheek.

  Bryn winked. "I guess I'd better go." She slipped out from behind the table. "You said something about helping me pack, Conner?"

  Conner smiled, took her hand and folded her arm around his in a gallant gesture. "Remind me never to piss you off."

  Nick choked out a laugh. "That goes double for me!"

  "Oh and Paula?" Bryn turned back to the wide-eyed and stricken agent. "Consider yourself fired!"

  The agent jabbed a finger toward Bryn. "You'll get yours bitch! He'll see to that!"

  Conner turned with cold predatory precision. "Who? Boyd?

  Nick curled his lip. "That little shit will keep the fuck away from us, if he knows what's good for him."

  Conner nodded toward Nick. "We've dealt with him before."

  Nick snorted. "Why do you think he's on TV instead of the big-screen with the rest of his brothers?"

  Conner and Nick wasted no time hustling Bryn across the dealers' room toward the stairs.

  Bryn frowned. "Why don't we use the elevator?"

  Conner held the stairwell door open. "What floor are you on?"

  Bryn lifted her skirts and started up the stairs. "I'm on the twenty third. There is no way I'll make the climb in these shoes."

  Conner followed at her heels. "We will use the elevators, as soon as we get to another floor. I have no interest in trying to navigate this crowd."

  Nick snorted. "Not with our faces."

  "Oh." Bryn bit her lip and climbed. They had a point. They were two of the most recognizable men in the world. "Look, I'm sorry I left so fast..."

  "Not even a good-bye kiss." Nick slanted a pout at Bryn.

  Conner shook his head. "If you'd had the decency to wake us, we would have warned you about Boyd. He is a very bad sort of vampire, and he always attends these functions..."

  Nick choked. "Bad? That's the understatement of the year."

  Bryn frowned. "He feels like an un-flushed toilet in my head. There is no way in hell I would ever work for him."

  Nick ground his teeth. "Working was not what he had in mind - try eating."

  "Eating?" Bryn turned on the stairs.

  Conner slanted a narrow look at Bryn. "Keep walking, I want to get to the next floor before we take the elevator. Do not underestimate him, Boyd is a very dangerous little prick, especially for you."

  "Dangerous?" Bryn's heels clicked on the stairs. "How dangerous is he?"

  Conner raised a silver brow. "Let's put it this way, to Nick and I, you are a very fine, very rare liquor, to be sipped and sparingly."

  Nick snorted. "You're so damned potent, you knocked me flat on my ass"

  Conner rolled his eyes at Nick. "To Boyd, you are a five star, full course meal that he intends to partake of. Preferably in one swallow."

  Nick sneered. "The greedy little two-bit... "

  Bryn looked back at them in shock. "What? He wants to kill me?"

  "Something far worse." Conner sighed. "If he gets his filthy hands on you, he'll rip your writer's talent right out of you, permanently."

  Bryn stilled in shock. My writing? All my stories? Gone? An icy sweat formed on her spine. "But, that's impossible," she whispered.

  "The little shit has done it before." Nick swatted her butt. "Now move your ass up those stairs."

  The twenty-third floor hallway was sparsely populated with only the occasional costumed couple walking to and from the elevators. Bryn led the way to her single-bed room.

  "Your key." Conner held out his hand. "Please?"

  Bryn fished in her bustier top to get it. "You want my room key?"

  "Yes." Conner took the plastic card from her hand, swiped the door lock, and then pushed the door open. "Go on in. Did they give you a spare key?"

  Bryn walked in ahead of Conner. "Uh, yeah..."

  "Get it please." Conner walked into the room and looked around.

  Nick shoved the door closed and engaged the bolt with a loud crack.

  Bryn went to the poor excuse for a desk. There wasn't much for the guys to see in
her room except the open suitcase on the bed with her jeans and sweater tossed over it. She took the other plastic key-card from the envelope the front desk had given her. She turned around in time to see Nick fling his gray leather coat and hat across the bed, then his dark sunglasses. Anticipation laced with sexual interest was suddenly radiating from both of them. A shiver of disquiet raced up her spine. "Uh... Guys?"

  Conner held out his hand. "The other key, please?"

  "You want them both?" Bryn bit her lip and held out the card. "I won't be able to get back in."

  Conner took the card with a cool smile. "You will not be leaving this room unless you are accompanied by one of us." He passed the key card to Nick, who took great delight in tucking the card into his wallet.

  "What?" Bryn looked from one to the other.

  Nick raised his hands. "Don't look at me. He makes the rules." He grinned suddenly. "I just enforce 'em."

  Conner looked at her suitcase. "Now then, let's get you packed, so we can get on with your punishment."

  Bryn choked. "Punishment?"

  "That's right, sweet-heart." Nick nodded firmly. "Your ass has an appointment with the palm of my hand."

  Bryn looked at Conner in panic. "What?"

  Conner smiled. "You will not run out without saying good-bye again."

  "You're going to spank me?" Bryn's heart thumped in her chest. "But you can't do that!"

  "I assure you, your ass will be nice and pink when he's through." Conner tilted his head at Nick. "Nick enjoys his work."

  "Look, I had to go!" Bryn took a panicked step back. "You guys are not being fair!"

  "Probably not." Conner slid the black coat from his shoulders. "Shall we get to work? Where are the rest of your things?"

  Unfortunately, Bryn had taken very little out of her suitcase, so she was packed in a matter of minutes. However, that short amount of time was more than enough to fray her nerves to threads. A spanking? Are they out of their minds? Her cheeks heated with the idea of Nick's large hands on her bare behind. A curl of sensual awareness shivered through her, and her panties became undeniably moist. Bryn winced. I'm getting wet over a spanking? I must be more perverted than I thought.