VirtualDesire by Ann Lawrence Page B

helped Gwen
haul the door closed. A crack of lightning flashed over the water, painting the
black water silver, spotlighting a small boat near the horizon.
    “Shut up, Neil. I could cry. Look at my decorations.”
    She stared miserably about. Her red rocks were barren; her
drifts were all on the south side of the ballroom.
    He put an arm around her shoulders. “No one cares. They’re
either three sheets to the wind or just happy to be here.” He gave her a gentle
squeeze.
    “You’re right.” She sighed, and dropped her head on his
shoulder. “No harm done, I guess.”
    Vad did not enjoy the uncomfortable pang of jealousy that he
felt when the snake man—Neil—embraced Gwen.
    “May I have your autograph?” a tiny woman with hair a
strange color, like melting metal, said. In her hand was a bound set of papers
of magnificent colors. Each time he touched the beautiful papers, he thought of
the hours it must have taken to write each word and paint each design. With
reverence, he wrote his name.
    The woman seemed to value the documents more once he had
written on them.
    The snake man came to his side. “Gwen told me to see if I
could help fend off some of these fans.”
    “Help me?” Vad frowned. “Everyone is very polite. I enjoy
their conversation. They see to my comfort.”
    “Really? How many cups of punch have they brought you?”
    “Punch?” In truth, he understood only one in every five
words they said. But he was learning their language. Caramel, com, turmeric,
quickie . Each woman added to his vocabulary. “What is your status here,
Neil? What is the meaning of the snake in this place?” What harm could come
from asking?
    “I’m part owner of Gwen’s shop. When my father died, he left
me a little money, and I used it to invest in Gwen’s business. She wasn’t doing
so well after her husband—lifemate to you—died. She needed a partner. I used to
work at Virtual Heaven when I was in high school, so I knew the business.
    “And the tattoo means I was drunk one night and not thinking
clearly—typical college state, I’m afraid. Other than that, don’t read too much
into it.”
    Vad took a deep breath, but kept himself from asking for a
better explanation. Involuntarily, he looked about the room for Gwen. So she
had lost a lifemate. It explained the contrasts of wealth and poverty in her
home.
    These festivities did little but delay his mission. He
kicked a boot at the polished floor. Snow lay over everything—or had until the
loud one had opened the door. Sparkles radiated from glowing colored glass in
the ceiling. It was all false. Like the spectacles after the harvests.
    His head ached. When he lifted his hand to his brow, it
trembled. Quickly he tucked it into his knife belt.
     
    “You’d be perfect!” Liz yelled over the loud hum of
conversation. “Come on.”
    “Where?” Gwen asked as Liz hauled her through the crowd.
    “Over there!” She pointed vaguely toward the ceiling. “I
need an ordinary woman to kiss that hunk in the corner. What a shot that will
be—front-cover material.”
    “Whoa.” Gwen skidded to a halt. “No way. I’m not kissing
anyone.”
    Liz leaned down from her nearly six-foot height. “What’s the
matter with you? Think of the PR for Virtual Heaven. Not to mention an
opportunity to lock lips with—”
    Liz’s words were lost as she hustled Gwen at a quick trot
through a wall of people. “There he is!” Liz cried as she halted in front of a
mob of women waving programs for Vad to sign. Mini-explosions of camera flashes
reflected on the wall of windows behind him. So Liz was not the only woman
intent on a photo op.
    “We’ll need to stand on a chair to see over this crowd,” she
said to Liz.
    “Watch this…” Liz’s iron grip on Gwen’s arm tightened as Liz
used her elbows to hurl Gwen through the mass of women and into Vad’s chest.
    Vad grunted and closed his arms about her.
    “Liz, I don’t think—” Gwen began.
    “Quick. Kiss each