The Pixie Prince (2 page)

Alexa started to grin. Then she began to chuckle. Finally, she muffled her laughter behind her slender fingers. “Oh, my God. You’re the Pixie Prince now!”

“Ssssh!” Max frowned at her. “I get enough attention as it is without this getting out and making it worse!”

Above her fingers, Alex’s eyes danced with delighted laughter. “Does this mean you have the big golden…?”

He nodded, grimacing. “Yesssss,” he hissed. “And worse than that, now I’ve got a sensitivity to things that never bothered me before.”

Alexa swished the pear slice in her drink, then raised the glass to her mouth to lick at the sugared rim. Max’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched all the men seated nearby stare at her with unabashed lust. It was a little cool in the room, so the front of her thin silk shirt showed the outline of her rock hard nipples. With those pebbled nipples and her agile pink tongue on display, Max knew more than one man had to adjust himself beneath the table.

Max was used to men staring at Alexa. She was a tiny thing, weighing in at about ninety-seven pounds, all big violet eyes in a piquant face and blessed with a set of lush, full breasts that turned even the coldest of men into drooling idiots. Men usually made the mistake of thinking she was a brainless bimbo because of those big breasts, when in fact she had the sharpest mind of anyone he’d ever met. She also had a razor sharp tongue that could rip a person to shreds in just a few seconds.

The combination of sex kitten looks and a mind like a Wall Street shark usually meant that Alexa wasn’t seeing anyone. Men either didn’t approach her because they thought she was a bimbo, or they did approach her because they thought she was a bimbo. The ones that did hit on her were sent packing the instant they pulled the “Hey, baby” routine on her.

“Stuff that didn’t bother you before? Like what?” she asked, setting her glass down. “Mattresses?”

Max figured she knew the men in the room were staring at her nipples, but she pointedly–he chuckled to himself over the pun–ignored them. He shook his head. “I don’t have a sensitivity to mattresses per se,” he replied cautiously. “Don’t you remember your fairy tales?”

“Which one?” She arched a brow at him, then suddenly must have remembered their conversation in the mattress store. Her eyes widened. “Well, shit. If you’re the Prince and the Pea, how the hell are you ever gonna have sex again?”

He shrugged, resisting the urge to squirm in his seat again. “Why do you think I’m mattress hunting? Nothing is comfortable anymore. I feel everything,” he grumbled, finishing his second Manhattan. “I’m told that the sensitivity wears off. It’s just because the inheritance is new. Eventually, I’ll get used to the big golden… you know… and to feeling like everything is bigger, louder, harder, brighter.”

Alexa sat back in her chair, apparently stunned by his revelation. “So all of your senses are more acute now?”

He nodded, opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut when he heard footsteps approaching. Alexa blinked and looked around him to find Marty coming toward them with a laden tray. He placed a platter of rare filet mignon wrapped in bacon and drizzled with bleu cheese crumbles, sautéed mushrooms, and French fried onion strings in front of Alexa. Then he set a huge bowl of hot wings in front of Max.

“Suicide wings, drumettes only, right?” Marty asked with a grin.

Max nodded, his mouth and eyes watering at the vinegar and hot sauce smell of the wings.

Alexa made a face. “I bet he’s the only customer you have that eats three orders of appetizers for lunch right?”

Marty chuckled and picked up their empty drink glasses, setting fresh ones in front of them. “He’s the only one who can eat the double suicide ones. They’re too hot for anyone else,” he grinned. “And you’re a fine one to talk. You’re the only Acerbian I know who has to have the big dinner steak for lunch.”

“I have to fill up the empty space behind my boobs,” she snarked, cutting into the steak. “Men always think I’m heartless.”

“When you’re done eating, I’ll be back with your desserts and the information on the mattress.” Marty flashed a grin and disappeared into the crowded room.

By the time they finished eating, the waiter was back with coffee, a crème brulee, and a bowl of vanilla ice cream with caramel sauce. Alexa’s eyes glowed when she saw the crème brulee.

“Oh, baby, come to mama,” she sighed as Marty set the deep oversized ramekin in front of her.

As he poured the coffee, Marty told them about the mattress. “I know this woman with a space mattress… some weird foam or something made for the space program. They sell mattresses made of the stuff now. It molds to your body, and it feels like you’re lying on a cloud.”

Max perked up, ignoring his ice cream. “Have you slept on it?”

“Yeah.” Marty set the coffee carafe on the table. “Had to work a double shift once after pulling an all-nighter. The boss gave me ninety minutes for a lunch break. I went next door to hang out, and Bliss let me take a nap in her bed. It’s amazing.”

“Bliss?” Alexa’s voice was sharp. “Is she some kinda hooker or something? They all have names like Bambi or Bliss or Desiree.”

Marty looked affronted. “Bliss isn’t a hooker. She owns the club next door. Carpe Noctem. You’re Acerbian. I’m surprised you don’t know her.”

Alexa’s lip curled derisively. “So not a club girl,” she said shortly and cracked the top of her crème brulee with a spoon. “Besides, there are a lot of Acerbians in this world.”

Strike one for Marty, Max thought. Since her break-up with Tremain, Alexa stayed far away from clubs and the rock star life. He was sure she knew about Carpe Noctem, everyone did because it was a popular club, but he doubted she’d ever set foot in the place.

“Her brothers own Wilde Racing.”

Marty’s words dropped into the momentary silence, and Alexa stiffened. Max bit back a sigh. Strike two for the waiter. He had to know Alexa’s background. The whole world did.

Back in the early 70’s, Alexa had been bonded to a human, her mate. Ian had been a race car driver who had died in a fiery crash at the Nurburgring in Germany. No one was sure why she had survived the death of her bonded mate. Usually, vampires didn’t. One thing was for sure. While Alexa might dislike nightclubs, she sure as hell
hated
auto racing.

“Don’t give a flying fuck what they own,” she muttered, refusing to look up from her dessert.

Max opened his mouth to smooth things over and bring the conversation back to the mattress, which he was dying to know about anyway, when Marty said, “Rumor has it Olivier Wilde lost his bonded mate too…just like you.”

Alexa’s head snapped up, and her dark violet eyes speared the waiter. To give the guy his due, he didn’t back down an inch. He just stared right back at her, calm and unblinking.

“Bullshit,” she rasped.

Marty shook his head. “I don’t think so, Alexa,” he replied. Then pointedly, he looked away from her and turned his gaze on Max. “When you’re done, I’ll take my break and introduce you to Bliss. I’m sure she’ll let you try the mattress and tell you where she got it.”

After Marty left, Max looked at Alexa apologetically. “I’m sorry. I really need to see this mattress,” he said softly.

She pushed away her half-eaten dessert, something he’d never seen her do with crème brulee before. It spoke volumes about how upset she was. “I know. It’s okay, Max. We’ll go see the mattress. You lie on it and see if it suits. If it does, she tells you where she got it, and we leave. Ten minutes tops, right?” There was a slight quaver in her voice, and Max felt like a schmuck.

“Ten minutes tops,” he promised.

Alexa let out a sigh. Her big violet eyes met his. “I’m sorry. You know how I hate reminders that my life is a big, black, sucking hole.”

Not for the first time, Max wondered why Alexa was alive. Her goddess must have something in mind for her to have saved her when her mate died. However, almost thirty years had passed, and what that something was had never been revealed. The mystery intrigued Max in part because he wanted Alexa to be happy.

Marty had made such a point of bringing up the Wilde brothers that Max grew suspicious. Something was afoot, and that aroused Max’s natural curiosity. Not that it mattered. He needed to check out the mattress, and despite his best friend’s discomfort, he was going to Carpe Noctem to do it.

Chapter Two

Max finished his ice cream while trying to revive Alexa’s earlier happy mood by telling her a story about a runway model who fell off the runway all the time.

“That’s how she ended up doing print ads. There was nothing to fall off of,” he chuckled as he ended the story.

Alexa’s smile flashed briefly, but faded the moment Marty reappeared.

“Bill’s on your tab, Max. Sign here please.” The waiter handed him a slip and Max scribbled his signature on it. Marty dropped it in his apron pocket and gestured toward the door. “I can introduce you to Bliss now.”

Max nodded and got up, holding out his hand for Alexa. She slipped her sunglasses on and took his hand, gripping his fingers hard. They followed Marty out of the restaurant and over to the huge black and grey building next door.

It was broad daylight, so the club that catered to vampires and the people who loved them was closed. Marty rapped loudly on the door with his knuckles. It was opened instantly by a tall man dressed like one of the undead vampires in the novels Alexa hated. Max saw the corners of her mouth tighten.

“Hey, Marty! C’mon in. Bliss is in the office,” the tall man said.

“Thanks, Ray,” Marty replied, and led the way into the club.

It looked like any other club to Max, except for the vampire paraphernalia all over. Crosses, bats, coffins… He could tell it bothered Alexa, but she didn’t say a word. He felt the tension in her body, though, and she clutched his hand tightly. Not for the first time, he wondered why her break-up with Tremain had been so traumatic. He’d asked once, innocently enough, and she’d changed the subject. He’d never brought it up again.

Following Marty toward the bar area, Max looked around. The place looked expensive and upscale despite the cheesy vampire theme. Before they reached the brass-railed bar, a door behind it opened, and a woman came out. Instantly, the scent of caramel assailed him. For a moment, he wondered if he’d spilt his dessert on himself then realized that his senses were pinging. It was the woman who smelled of caramel. She turned toward him, her inky black hair swaying like a swath of silk. The fine strands were cut in a short stylish bob, and when her head tilted up, he could see the pale ivory oval of her face.

Electric blue eyes met his, and Max’s stomach dropped. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten three dozen double suicide wings. Dry-mouthed, he swallowed hard as the woman glided toward them with an innate grace that shamed the studied poise of the models he worked with.

She was tall, about five foot nine, with a reed slender body and nice round breasts that weren’t small, but fell short of the lushness of Alexa’s. Max’s stomach flip flopped as those electric blue eyes glowed at him, indicating her vampire heritage.

“Max Fever,” she said in a low amused voice. “When Marty called and asked if he could show my mattress to one of his favorite customers, I didn’t realize he was bringing over a celebrity.”

“It’s LeFevre,” Max replied automatically, as he usually did when someone called him by the nickname his female fans had given him.

She grinned, and Marty said, “Bellisandra Wilde, this is Max LeFevre and Alexa Harte.”

Bliss Wilde was a stunner, Max thought. At least, she stunned him. His brain felt like jello and his cock silently screamed at him to fuck her until her brain was jello, too.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Wilde,” Alexa murmured stiffly.

Bliss reached out and shook Alexa’s automatically proffered hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Harte,” she replied, her bright eyes assessing the other vampire.

To Max, Bliss seemed awfully curious about Alexa, although her words didn’t give that away. Despite her calm demeanor, he could sense her sizing up his companion. If the rumors Marty had mentioned were true, it would certainly explain why Bliss Wilde looked at Alexa with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. Wryly, he acknowledged his annoyance that she seemed more interested in his friend than in him.

“The mattress is upstairs. I have a small loft apartment for when I’m too tired to drive home,” Bliss explained, turning away and unlocking a black painted door that blended into the walls so well Max barely noticed it.

They climbed the stairs, and Max’s gaze zoomed in on the movement of Bliss’ well-toned ass. She wore plain jeans and a form-fitting black t-shirt that hugged her lean curves. Max thought she looked sexy as all hell, and the twitching of his cock inside his jeans confirmed his brain’s more objective opinion. In the space of a few minutes, he was completely in lust with her.

The apartment she led them into was unremarkable, until she opened the bedroom door. Then, even Alexa gasped in shock. Deep, dark red carpeting covered the floor. The walls were dark gold, the crown molding in a slightly paler gold. The furnishings were all dark wood, possibly ebony, and included an armoire, a desk and matching chair, bedside tables, a bench at the foot of the chair that held a deep red quilt, and the bed itself.

The bed was riveting. King-sized, draped in red and gold, the four posts of the frame were thick black twists that rose toward the ceiling. Max stared at the exotic bed, his heart racing. He didn’t care about the mattress any longer. When he looked at that bed, all he could think about was Bliss lying naked on it while he licked her everywhere. His cock screamed, “Yes, yes, yes!”

“My brother Lucien found the mattress for me,” Bliss told them, her voice low and even. “I wanted something softer than the usual mattress.”

Max blinked. She’d used his exact words, and although he knew why he needed a mattress like that, he couldn’t imagine why a vampire would. “Where did he get it?” he asked, walking toward the bed.

“A company online that makes mattresses from a substance called space foam. It’s very unusual material.” Bliss followed Max over to the side of the bed, reaching down to grab the embroidered silk coverlet.

She whipped the exotic coverlet back, revealing champagne colored cotton sheets. Max touched them lightly with one finger. High quality, high thread count, Egyptian cotton sheets. They would be softer than satin on naked skin.

In his mind’s eye, Max could see himself lying naked on those sheets while Bliss rose above him, her pale ivory skin glowing in the light from the brass lamps. He suppressed a shudder and sternly instructed his twitching cock to behave.

“Do you mind?” he asked softly as he tested the springiness of the mattress with his hand.

Bliss gave him an amused smile, her dark pink lips quirked up at the corners. “By all means, give it a try.”

Taking a deep breath, which didn’t help calm his dick because the inhalation filled his nose and head with the scent of caramel, Max kicked off his shoes and eased onto the bed. Once he was lying on his back, he let out his breath. The mattress molded to his body, but he could feel none of the conventional things that mattresses were made of. No springs, no coils, no batting… Just soft, cloudlike foam that cradled his body, making him feel as if he was floating.

He breathed in and out, concentrating on his body, Bliss, Alexa, and Marty all fading into the background. One minute went by, then two. Even his cock went quiet while he tested the mattress. All of his senses were trained on how the mattress felt beneath him. Three minutes… elation began to spread throughout his body. He twitched his shoulders. No pain. He wriggled his torso, his chest and abdomen undulating. No discomfort. His heart began to pound. Four minutes…

“Max? Did you fall asleep?”

Alexa’s voice broke his concentration, and he looked up, meeting her slightly worried dark eyes. Suddenly, he grinned and saw relief flood her expression.

“By the Goddess,” she breathed. “He’s found his mattress.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Marty exclaimed.

Max smiled up at them. Alexa’s expression had gone from relief to a slightly mocking smile. Marty grinned happily. Bliss looked at him with an odd expression in her blue eyes, but her beautiful mouth quirked up in a pleased smile. He threw his arms out, feeling how the mattress cradled him without placing any pressure on any point of his body. It felt like heaven.

Reluctantly, he sat up and shoved his feet back into his shoes. Sensing Bliss’ gaze on him, he looked up. “Thank you. You’ve saved my life. Do you have the phone number for the mattress company?”

She walked over to the desk and opened the drawer, removing a card. She wrote something on it and then came toward him, extending the card. Max took it. Carpe Noctem, her name, and a phone number were printed on the expensive card stock. Below it, written in neat, dark letters, were the words “Cloud Nine” and a phone number.

“I’m so happy I could help,” she murmured as she pulled her hand away, her slender fingers brushing against his.

A little electric shock went through him at her touch. His gaze flew to hers. He could tell she’d felt that shock too. A frisson of awareness snaked down his spine. Bliss Wilde was unlike anyone he’d ever met. Special didn’t seem to cover it.

“Well, I gotta get back. I’m glad you found a mattress, Max.”

Marty’s voice was more smug than it had a right to be over a mattress. Max jerked his gaze from Bliss to eye the waiter. Triumph dominated his expression and an evil delight lurked in his green eyes. Max decided Marty must be more than just another guy waiting tables to get through college.

“Bye, Marty,” Bliss said with a smile.

“See you later, Bliss. Good to see you again, Alexa. Take care!” Marty half waved and disappeared through the door. They heard his feet going down the stairs, and then the door thudded.

Alexa drew in an audible breath. “Thank you for your help, Bliss. You saved my feet hours of agony,” she said ruefully, glancing down at her Jimmy Choo pumps.

Bliss chuckled, the sound as rich as her caramel scent. Max’s senses tingled again. “You’re welcome,” she replied easily, walking toward the door.

They followed her downstairs to the club, where Max noticed Alexa suppressing a shudder. He saw that Bliss had picked up on Alexa’s revulsion to the club as well. Just like Marty, a smugness in the back of her eyes told Max something besides helping him find a mattress was going on.

The overwhelming scent of caramel filled his nostrils as Bliss stepped closer, holding out her hand to him. “It was great meeting you, Max.”

She smiled up at him, and Max’s cock began its silent howl again. Apparently, his dick was completely enamored with her. As he shook her hand, the feel of her flesh against his had his heart pounding like a jackhammer. No, it wasn’t just his dick. His whole body was deep in lust with her. For the first time in a long time, he had a huge instantaneous reaction to a woman. He shoved the thought aside though. Time enough to dwell on it later, when he was alone.

Max and Alexa left Carpe Noctem and got in the limo. They were silent during the drive to Alexa’s condo. When the car pulled up at the curb, Max asked, “Did the club bother you that much?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled wearily. “Something did, but I don’t know what.”

Her wide, violet eyes met his and he saw the turmoil in them. Reaching out, he drew her into a big hug and kissed her on the forehead. “Call me if you need me, okay?”

She nodded and he got out of the car, holding out his hand to help her out. “Thanks for coming with me today. You saved me from the rabid fan girls,” he joked.

Her usual snarky smile appeared. “Someone has to,” she muttered sarcastically. “You have no self-preservation skills whatsoever. If I left you to your own devices, those fan girls would be tearing your clothes from your body for souvenirs.”

“I appreciate you saving my wardrobe,” he laughed and gave her a quick, one-armed hug. “Get inside before you get a sunburn.”

He watched her walk into the building, then got back in the limo. It had turned out to be an unusual day. Finding the mattress was key, of course. His relief knew no bounds on that front. However, meeting Bliss had done something really odd to his libido, turning it on full blast in milliseconds. His body’s reaction to her was also weird. Her caramel scent had registered in his brain instantly with a strong sense of recognition.

Max didn’t know what was up with that. He understood why his cock was so crazy about her. She had a body made for lust. It surprised him how quickly his entire being had become one great big Bliss reactor.

He shook his head. His thoughts were a little melodramatic, but he couldn’t help it. Drawn to Bliss Wilde in a way he had never been drawn to a woman before, he wasn’t sure if that scared him or excited him or both.