Free Her Vampire Husband by Michele Hauf Page B

more than two feet.
    By observing the crews of wolves and vamps camped out front, she’d learned they took breaks on alternate shifts. Around four in the afternoon, both factions were trading shifts, which left the estate unwatched for about twenty minutes.
    She’d always wondered what it would be like to be acelebrity for twenty-four hours, having the press drooling over every tidbit of her life. Now she’d changed her mind. This was plain ridiculous. Who cared what she was doing? And could they actually get shots of her with those cameras?
    She didn’t need to avoid the snoops; she just preferred doing this out of their interest. They couldn’t sight her at the back of the property. She hoped.
    Pushing aside the wide glossy leaves, she grabbed the cool iron fencing. A weird vibration hummed through her fingers and at her wrist. Not like electricity, but almost like the vibrations Blu felt when Bree used sidhe magic.
    Something mechanical clicked.
    Blu startled, releasing the fence. Her T-shirt tugged across her stomach, as if someone pulled it from the side. The hot burn of metal grazed her skin.
    Stumbling backward, she landed on her butt, legs sprawled and arms catching her from a complete backward body slam into the grass.
    “What the hell?”
    Lifting her shirt, she studied the torn fabric. A red burn mark slashed across her stomach. It hadn’t cut skin but the abrasion stung. Something had come close to doing some serious damage.
    “Damn, that stings. Feels like…” A substance she didn’t want to consider.
    Crawling forward, she cautiously searched the grass, being careful not to get too close to the fence again. Touching the fence had activated something. She’d thought it sidhe just moments ago, but that made little sense.
    A ward? Possible. The vampire would very likely have his land warded as a means to security.
    “Would have been nice if he’d told his wife about that.”
    Though they could do physical harm, wards were usually invisible. Yet she’d felt something solid touch her. And it had burned her flesh. Inspection of her stomach showed an abrasion, though the skin hadn’t been torn.
    A glint of silver on the ground attracted her. She reached for it but pulled back before touching it.
    “A silver dart? Is that some kind of joke?”
    No wonder, despite it not opening flesh, it burned liked a mother. She’d have to douse the abrasion with alcohol to see that no trace of silver remained on her skin.
    She prodded the deadly thing with her running shoe.
    “Silver. Which means this ward is specific for werewolves. Lovely. Forget Green Acres, I’m a prisoner at Stalag Vampire. The hubby is so going to hear about this one.”
    T HE WEREWOLF PRINCESS of the wild hair colors and revealing clothing could do subtle well. Almost too wellafter she’d trained him to look forward to her sexy exposed curves.
    The clingy black velvet dress rose to the base of Blu’s neck and plunged to her knees. Her arms and lower legs were the only part revealed. Even the back was covered. Unfortunate. Creed would enjoy a lingering study over that tattoo.
    Tonight’s wig was snow-white. She preferred the chin-length style that emphasized her fine bone structure and sensual red lips. Was it the thick lashes or the dark eye shadow that kept his attention straying to those gorgeous gray eyes?
    All in all, understated glamour, he decided. The only thing she needed was a string of pearls to fit with the silver-screen Hollywood types. But this was Minnesota, and she would stand out, silver screen or not.
    The restaurant was so exclusive he’d had to offer the maître d’ a large tip to secure a table on short notice. It was worth it. Creed had not accrued billions to let it spoil in a dusty bank vault.
    Blu hadn’t surprised him this morning by asking for money. It bothered him little to give her a credit card. Again, why let it rot in a bank? Even if the princess could shop a blue streak, she’d never dent his finances.