Under a Vampire Moon (8 page)

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Authors: Lynsay Sands

BOOK: Under a Vampire Moon
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Christian stiffened, eyes narrowing. “Brent?”

“Yes, he’s . . . er . . . well, he was her roommate in university. Actually they were all roommates. They shared a house,” she added quickly when he began to scowl. “Brent was a good friend. Kind of like a girlfriend.”

Christian blinked. “Kind of like a girlfriend?”

“Yes, well, you see . . . er . . . Brent is gay,” she explained.

Christian relaxed. That was all right. He’d started worrying there that Gia was going to tell him Carolyn had some long-lived, unrequited love for the guy.

“Okay, so she has a gay friend,” he said, not getting where this was going.

Gia glanced to Marguerite again and shifted her feet. “Well, see, he wasn’t openly gay, he was in the closet, and she used to pretend to be his girlfriend on occasion to help him stay there. It’s called being a beard, apparently.”

Christian waited.

Gia shifted nervously again, and this time he noticed that she was shuffling a little away from him. When his eyes narrowed, she continued, “And then it struck me. She was very sympathetic to this Brent. They were good friends and she felt bad for the struggle he had and so on . . .” She paused and shuffled another step away before blurting out, “And so I told her you were gay.”

Christian blinked once, twice, and then a third time and squawked, “
What
?”

“Now, Christian, just listen for a moment,” Marguerite said, patting his arm.

Christian glanced toward his mother, but paused as his eyes got caught on his father chuckling silently behind her. He glared at the man, but glanced at Zanipolo when he said, “Wait, whoa. Are you
serious
? You told her he was
gay
?”

“It seemed like the perfect solution,” Gia said on a sigh.

“What the hell do you mean it seemed like the perfect solution?” Christian asked with disbelief. “You told her I was
gay
.”

“Yes, but see—”

“And she
believed
you?” he asked with horror.

“Yes, of course. Why would she think I’d lie about something like that?” she asked with exasperation.

“Julius,” Marguerite chastised gently when his father gave a muffled guffaw.

“Sorry, darling, but he gave me such grief over my wooing of you that I can’t help but think this is funny,” Julius said, slipping his arm around Marguerite.

“It isn’t funny,” Christian growled. “She told my life mate that I’m
gay
.”

Zanipolo gave a bark of laughter. “And she believed it.”

Christian scowled at the man, considering violence until Gia said, “Actually, at first I just said my
cugino
was gay and didn’t tell her which one. She thought it must be you before I said it was Christian.”

“What?” Zanipolo cried. “Why would she think that? Do I look gay?”

Christian growled impatiently, and turned on Gia. “I don’t see how her thinking I am gay is supposed to help.”

“Is it my hair that made her pick me for the gay one, do you think?” Zanipolo asked suddenly. “Maybe I should cut it.”

“It could be,” Santo said, eyeing him consideringly.

“Nah. Christian has long hair too,” Raffaele pointed out.

Christian scowled at them, but then glanced back to Gia as she announced, “I said you were in the closet and afraid to come out for fear the family would turn on you.”

“What?” he asked blankly.

“We would never turn on you, Christian,” Marguerite murmured, patting his arm. “Gay or not, we love you.”


I’m not gay
,” he pointed out, his voice rising an octave, and heard another snort of laughter from his father.

“Well, no dear, of course not,” Marguerite said quickly. “But if you were, we’d still love you. You wouldn’t have to hide in the closet with the smelly old shoes.”

“It’s not literal, Mother. I wouldn’t actually be hiding in a closet. It’s a—never mind,” he muttered and turned back to Gia. “How the hell is my being a closet gay supposed to—”

“She’s agreed to be your beard,” she interrupted quickly.

“I don’t want a damned beard,” Christian snapped. “I want my life mate.”

“Maybe I should grow a beard. Maybe that would make me look less gay,” Zanipolo muttered, rubbing his cheek.

Gia ignored him. “I know you want her for a life mate, not a beard, Christian, and this way she won’t be uncomfortable spending time with you. You can get to know each other without the risk of her fleeing because of her attraction to you.”

“Because she thinks I’m gay so won’t be attracted,” he pointed out grimly.

“Now, Christian, your being gay won’t affect her attraction to you,” Marguerite said soothingly.


I’m not gay
,” he bellowed, scowling at his father when he released another guffaw.

“No, of course not, dear. She’ll just think you are,” his mother agreed.

“But I’m not!” he roared. “And how the hell am I supposed to get close to her when she thinks I am?”

“Christian,” Marguerite began with concern.

“Allow me,
cara
.” Julius took Christian’s arm and urged him away from the rest of the group. It did little good since they all immediately crowded forward behind them, but Julius ignored that and put his arm around Christian as he said, “Stop thinking about the gay bit, and think about her being your beard. That’s a pretend girlfriend, right?”

He frowned but nodded.

“So, you’ll get to spend time with her, take her out for dinner, talk, get to know each other, and”—Julius added firmly—“you’ll get to hold her hand, put your arm around her, dance with her, and so on, like a boyfriend does. It will be expected. At least in public, right?”

Christian nodded slowly, considering this.

“We can even make sure she lets you kiss her,” Julius added.

“How are we going to do that?” Marguerite asked with interest.

Christian scowled. “I don’t want you taking control of her and—”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Julius interrupted. “We won’t have to control her to get her to do anything. All I have to do is say something like, you two never kiss or anything, I don’t believe you’re dating, and you’ll be obliged to kiss her and she’ll let you to uphold her position as beard.”

“Oh, Julius, you
are
clever,” Marguerite praised.

“But if she thinks I’m gay, she’ll hardly be attracted to me and want me kissing her,” Christian said unhappily.

“Her thinking you’re gay isn’t going to affect her attraction to you,” his father said firmly. “Nothing can affect that. The nanos somehow control that. She’ll want you no matter what she thinks you are. All this gay and beard business does is make it so she just won’t be afraid that you’re attracted back. So she won’t fear having to deal with, or face up to, an attraction she feels is inappropriate. She’ll have no reason to run. You’ll be free to woo her.”

Christian could see how that could be helpful. It was certainly better than having her avoid him and not getting to spend time with her at all. Still . . . “All right, but what happens then?”

“What happens when?” Julius asked uncertainly.

“Well, once I have her liking me and get her to know me, how do I then roll it over from I’m gay to I’m not?” he asked dryly.

“Oh.” Julius removed his arm with a shrug. “I have no idea.”

“I’m sure nature will take its course, dear,” Marguerite said at once. “The important thing is that this allows you to at least begin the wooing process.”

Christian sighed and nodded wearily.

“It’s not my clothes,” Zanipolo said with certainty. “My clothes are no different from what you guys wear.”

“Now,” Marguerite murmured, ignoring Zanipolo’s mutterings. “I told the girls we were going to see if you guys were up for joining us. Are you?”

When Christian hesitated, unsure if he was ready—or even knew how—to play a gay man, Marguerite added, “If so, you can ask her to go for a walk, tell her Gia told you she agreed to be your beard and you appreciate it and then kick it off. Ask her to dinner tomorrow night, maybe.”

Christian hesitated. “I don’t have to talk in a higher octave or start walking or behaving effeminately, do I?”

“Is my walk effeminate?” Zanipolo asked suddenly.

“Not that I noticed,” Santo assured him. Zanipolo was just relaxing when he added, “But then I don’t really watch you walk,
cugino
.”

“You don’t have to walk or act effeminately,” Gia said with exasperation. “There are all sorts of gay men, some more effeminate, some more butch, and then some perfectly average. They are just like everyone else, for heaven’s sake.”

“Right,” Christian muttered.

“Just be yourself,” Marguerite advised.

“Right,” Christian repeated.

“Let’s go get her, son,” Julius said cheerfully, slapping him on the shoulder. “I want to be bouncing your babies on my knee in nine months or so.”

“Oh,” Marguerite said on a little sigh and rubbed Christian’s arm. “My baby having babies.”

“I’m over five hundred years old, Mom. Hardly a baby.”

“You’ll always be a baby to me,” she assured him, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Christian shook his head and turned toward the door, but heard her murmur in a weepy voice, “Did you hear, Julius? He called me Mom again.”


Si, cara,
and so you are,” his father said gently.

“Yes, but I missed so much of his growing up,” she said on a sigh as Christian opened the door.

“You did,” Christian heard his father agree solemnly. “Maybe we should have another one to make up for it.”

“It won’t make up for all I missed,” she whispered. “But it would be nice.”

“Then we’ll start working on it tonight,” Julius murmured.

“You two have been ‘working on it’ since finding each other,” Christian pointed out dryly.

“Yes, we have,” Julius agreed as they started through the lobby. “Jealous?”

“Damned right,” Christian muttered. He wouldn’t mind doing a little “working on it” with Carolyn. But that wasn’t likely to happen for a while with her thinking he was gay. God!

 

Four

 

“O
h, here they come.”

Carolyn glanced around at Genie’s warning.

“They’re all coming, not just Julius and Marguerite,” Genie pointed out.

As if she could have missed that fact, Carolyn thought dryly. Cripes, the men were a wall of male flesh that pretty much engulfed the two smaller females. They were all so tall it was like watching a walking forest.

“Do you think Gia got the chance to tell him you agreed to be his beard?”

“I don’t know,” Carolyn muttered, suddenly nervous.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough. Gad, you’re so lucky. I wouldn’t mind being his beard. Getting to hang on his arm, and cuddle up to him and stuff.”

“What?” Carolyn blinked at the words.

“Well, you’ll have to make it convincing,” Genie pointed out. “You can’t just sit there like a bump on a log. Brent used to put his arm around you all the time. He held your hand and kissed your forehead too when you were doing it for him.”

Yes, he had, Carolyn realized with dismay. Good lord, she’d forgotten about that part of it. It had just seemed natural with Brent, brotherly affection rather than anything untoward, but then she hadn’t been lusting after Brent, and despite the fact that she knew Christian was gay, she still found him damned attractive.

“I’m sure Christian will expect the same,” Genie pointed out. “I mean you’re supposed to convince them all that you’re having an affair.”

Carolyn was just beginning to hyperventilate at that thought, when Genie added, “Of course, you’re not supposed to be having the affair yet, so tonight will probably just be exchanging glances and smiles and stuff. But don’t forget to do it.”

“Right,” Carolyn muttered, calming a little. She could do glances and smiles. Tomorrow she’d worry about hand-holding and that other business. Maybe once she got to know him, her feelings would shift to the more sisterly affection she had for Brent . . . Right, she thought as her eyes slid over Christian in his tight black T-shirt and even tighter black jeans. He was a beautiful man.

Gay, gay, gay, she reminded herself grimly. It wasn’t nice to lust after young gay men, no matter how studly they were. Hell, she shouldn’t be lusting after anyone his age to begin with.

“You’re on,” Genie whispered just before the group reached the table, and then noting the look on Carolyn’s face, muttered, “I’ll wave down the waitress and order you a drink. A nice stiff one.”

“Thanks.” Carolyn suspected she’d need it as she pasted a smile on her lips.

Christian was at the head of the group, his eyes locked on hers again, and the moment she smiled, his lips quirked into a responding one. He also moved around the table, his fingers brushing along her back above the chair as he passed behind her to claim the chair on her left.

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