"Thank you." Darcy located the fifth painting that needed to be removed.
Gregori wandered toward her, studying the portraits. He stopped in front of one and leaned close to read the nameplate. "Adam Olaf Cartwright. Who's he?"
Austin tensed and held his breath.
Darcy froze for a few seconds, then grabbed the fifth painting off the wall. She strode toward the corner. "He's a contestant, of course."
"Mortal or vampire?"
Darcy deposited the painting, then straightened. "We agreed that you wouldn't know ahead of time."
"I know, but—" Gregori glared at Austin's painting. "This guy was staring at you all evening."
Darcy clenched her hands together. "I wouldn't call it all evening. It was more like ten minutes."
"Ten minutes that he couldn't take his eyes off of you."
Austin narrowed his eyes. You got a problem with that, scumbag?
Darcy's laugh was short and forced. "Don't be silly. He was probably looking at the camera, not me. I'll have to remind the guys to ignore the camera and act naturally."
Gregori crossed his arms. "Have you been seeing him?"
She shrugged. "A few times, but it was work related."
Austin snorted. More pleasure than work, sweetheart.
Gregori frowned. "I don't want you to get hurt."
Darcy scoffed. "Don't worry. Nothing's going on."
Austin ground his teeth. Nothing? For the last two weeks, he'd been haunted with the memories of kissing her mouth, touching her breasts, and feeling her sweet rump pressed against his groin. Was that what she called nothing?
"What's up?" Garrett peeked into his room.
Austin jumped in his chair, then quickly turned off the volume on his laptop. "Dammit, Garrett.
Give me a warning, will you? I don't want my roommate to see what I'm doing."
"What are you doing?"
"Making sure all the cameras are working."
"Cool." Garrett shut the door and paced toward the computer. "Anything interesting? Who's that—the host and director?"
"Yeah, but it's really boring."
"Turn it up," Garrett urged. "I want to hear."
With an inward wince, Austin turned on the volume.
"I thought those ladies were going to tear this room apart when they found out about the mortals,"
Gregori said.
Darcy sighed. "Yeah, it wasn't pretty."
Austin relaxed. He was no longer the topic of conversation.
"I just hope your boss will understand," Gregori said.
"Yeah." Darcy headed for the door and turned off the lights.
Austin switched to the camera in the hallway. The sound was faint, so he turned the volume on high.
"I thought for sure I'd be able to tell the mortals from the Vamps." Gregori strolled toward the foyer.
"No one can smell them because of the anklets," Darcy said as she walked beside him. "They work like a charm. Even the vampires are wearing placebo ones. That way, when they're all wearing swimsuits, no one will be able to tell who's who."
"Holy anklet." Austin rolled down his sock and examined the anklet. "I thought it might have some kind of homing device, but it looks like it's just a chemical thing to block our smell."
Garret nodded. "I thought those vampires in the limo seemed too… indifferent."
Austin pulled his anklet off. "I'll give this to Emma tomorrow when she comes with the caterer. She can have it analyzed." Of course, without the anklet, he'd smell like a tasty morsel to the vampires.
"Are you sure you want to take that off?" Garrett asked.
"I'll get another one. I'll tell the director I lost mine."
"You mean Miss Darcy? You still think she's human?"
"Yes. I don't know why she's involved with these vampires, but she'll do her best to protect us from getting bit."
Garrett snorted. "You trust her more than I do. You know what the contract said—DVN isn't liable for puncture wounds."
Austin laughed. "I have no intention of getting bit." But he did have a good reason now for seeking out Darcy. And he knew exactly where to find her. The pool house.
As Darcy wandered about the greenhouse, she let the warm humid air caress her face and melt away all the tension that had built over the course of the evening. Shelves like stair steps lined each side of the path, each shelf filled with pots of brightly colored flowers—impatiens, lilies, peonies, and more exotic flowers she didn't recognize.
One side of the greenhouse was devoted to roses. A few climbing roses had been trained to cover an archway that began the path down the rose garden. In the middle, against the wall, a small fountain trickled water into a pool.
Toward the back of the greenhouse, a small tropical area thrived with lemon and banana trees. A stone bench sat under a willowy palm. Darcy sat and eased off her shoes. This would be the ideal setting for testing the next two qualifications—good manners and charming speech.
"Darcy!"
She spotted Maggie coming toward her. "Hi. Did you get the men settled in their rooms?"
"Yes. And I kept the mortals together like you asked."
"Thanks. I don't know how I'd manage without you." As long as she had Maggie's help, Darcy could avoid spending any time with the mortals. Or rather, one mortal in particular.
Maggie stopped next to her. "Actually, that's what I needed to talk to you about. Tomorrow night, I'm supposed to go back to DVN for another audition."
"Oh, that's right." Darcy gave her an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. You'll be great."
Maggie winced. "I'm awfully nervous. I'm going to read opposite Don Orlando. I hope he likes me."
"I–I'm sure he will." Darcy stifled a groan. She hadn't told her friend about Don Orlando's affair with Corky and Tiffany and God knows how many other women. She couldn't stand the thought of destroying Maggie's dream. Maggie was always the optimist who claimed everything happened just as it should. Even though Darcy couldn't agree with that, she hadn't realized until now how much she needed Maggie to believe it. As long as Maggie believed in happy endings, it still seemed possible.
"I think we should film in here tomorrow night." Darcy stood and picked up her shoes.
Maggie walked alongside her. "You want to test the men's good manners here?"
"Yes, I thought—aagh!" Darcy slipped in a puddle of water.
"Are you all right?" Maggie reached out to steady her. "You shouldn't walk in your hose. It's too slippery."
"Yeah, and I'll tear them up, too. Just a minute." Darcy wiggled out of her pantyhose, then stuck them into her shoes. "You know, this is exactly what we need. We'll make a big, muddy puddle in the middle of a path tomorrow night and see how the guys manage to keep the women from muddying their shoes."
"Oh, I like that! It's like that story about Sir Francis Drake putting down a cloak so the queen could walk over it."
"Exactly." Darcy carried her shoes as she walked barefoot. "We can do a whole obstacle course here in the greenhouse. And I think we'll have Lady Pamela conduct the tests. She seems to be the expert on propriety."
Maggie snorted. "That's true."
They exited the greenhouse and stopped by the stairwell. Maggie opened the door. "I'm going to the servants' floor. You want to join us in the parlor?"
"No, I'm tired. Good luck with your audition tomorrow."
"Thanks." Maggie slipped into the stairwell. The heavy door banged shut. Darcy closed her eyes and felt the cool breeze against her face. The first night was over. Time to relax. With a sigh, she headed across the roof to the pool house.
A splash of water drew her attention. There was a man in the pool doing laps, his long, lean body zooming neatly through the water. He exuded the perfect combination of strength and grace. She stepped closer. His back was bare and tanned, his shoulders broad. The muscles in his back and shoulders rippled with each stroke. His legs were long and powerful.