They were there when she arrived. Kasey Lynn and Bryan, looking flushed and profoundly tousled. Mac, his expression politely pained as he listened to the two speaking over each other about the day’s spectral sightings. Stanley Ayer sat sullen and angry in a chair by the fire, ignoring the others. His behavior had gotten worse with each passing day, his contempt for his hosts barely veiled. Honestly, Margo wasn’t sure why they hadn’t kicked him out.
Secrets. Saint had mentioned something about Stan’s secrets being interesting. And hers. No more. She knew that, job or no job, she wouldn’t be mentioning the contract to these men. She was honestly relieved to have it taken off the table. But her mind was reeling from the reason why.
“Margo Sheffield, glad you decided to join us. Who are we kidding? We’re just glad you can still walk after the busy week you’ve been having.”
Thomas came from nowhere to tower over Stan’s chair. “Careful, Slayer.” He turned to Margo and smiled slowly, his gaze heating as he studied her outfit. “You look beautiful.”
He came to take her hand, and she couldn’t help it. She flinched. She was in shock. Who wouldn’t be?
Thomas narrowed his gaze, taking a deliberate step closer to slide his arm around her waist. “What’s wrong?”
“It may have something to do with me telling Esther to hurry her along.”
Margo turned at the sound of Saint’s voice. He was sitting with his legs crossed beneath him on a large antique billiard table in the corner, his palm-sized device, as ever, in his hand.
She heard Thomas swear under his breath beside her. “Thanks, Saint.”
Margo pulled away from him and glared pointedly. “Yes. Thank you, Saint. Esther and I had an enlightening conversation.”
Saint caught her gaze with his own and smiled. “Thought you might. Now that everyone’s here, we should begin. The viewers are jamming the site with their questions and requests.”
Margo came further into the room, nodding at the filming Liam, and smiling her thanks when Mac stood gallantly, offering her his seat. Mac is a vampire. She was having a hard time believing it. Her job was filled with fantastic stories easily explained by CGI and makeup. This couldn’t be explained away.
It didn’t make much sense. Mac wasn’t a leering, neck chasing monster. He was moody, sure, but a gentleman. Saint couldn’t be less like her idea of a demon. He didn’t frighten her. He didn’t look old enough to vote. And Thomas? He certainly fit his stereotype. Confident, cocky and oversexed. And she distinctly recalled him purring once or twice after making love.
She really needed a drink.
“First question comes from Fanglvr353. We all know her, don’t we? Part of this is a private message for Mac, he can look at that later,” Saint chuckled. “But she also has an important question for Slayer. She asks what you’ve been doing sneaking around the lower floors in the morning. She has a feeling you’re up to no good.”
Everyone looked toward Stan, whose expression was reminiscent of someone who’d sucked the pulp out of a lemon. “I have no earthly idea what you mean. She must be mistaken.
The only time any of us are up and about is late afternoon and evening, in deference to our hosts.”
Margo wasn’t buying it. Neither was anyone else from their expressions, especially Mac’s. He didn’t look surprised. Just alert. She had a feeling he knew more about Stan than he was revealing.
“This one is for Bryan and Kasey Lynn. They want to know what it was like to have a ménage with a ghost.”
“Oh no.”
“Damn it, Bryan. I told you they might have cameras in that hallway.”
Mac covered his grin with one elegant hand, stepping closer. “I don’t remember you sharing this story with me. Let me guess. Rory?”
Kasey Lynn blushed and nodded. “Ever since that first night he’s been, well, very persistent. We just thought… I mean Bryan wanted to so—”
“Kasey Lynn Hollister.”
“What? You did.”
Margo was fascinated. The handsome Scot from their first dinner? “I’m curious too. How was it?”
Kasey Lynn glanced over at the red-faced Bryan before sending Margo a wink and stage-whispering her answer. “Really good.”
Saint chuckled and shook his head. “Why didn’t we let any of my fans win? When a ghost gets more action than a demon, something is not right with the world.”
“It’s disgusting.” Stan’s voice dripped with disdain.
Bryan jerked to a standing position and clenched his fists. “Excuse me?”