SINGLE WHITE VAMPIRE Page 0,22

a warning growl, and Kate peered over to see that his eyes were open and sharply focused on his mother.

"Well, Luc darling. You can hardly leave the poor girl here alone tomorrow night while you attend." Marguerite laughed, apparently oblivious to her son's fury.

"Kate has to return to New York," Lucern said firmly. "She won't be here tomorrow ni"

"That sounds like fun!" Kate blurted. Lucern fell silent and aimed his gimlet eye at her, but she ignored him. There was no way she was leaving without first gaining his agreement to at least an interview with one of the newspapers clamoring to speak to him. And falling in with Marguerite's suggestion meant that not only could he not force her on a plane back to New York, but by the time the wedding party was over, it would be too late for Kate to fly home the next night as well. Which gave her until Sunday to work on the man. That thought made her beam happily, and she silently thanked Lucern's mother.

The only thing that worried her was that Marguerite Argeneau was looking rather pleased in return. Kate had the sudden anxious feeling that she'd stepped neatly into a trap. She hoped to God that the woman didn't have any matchmaking ideas about her and Lucern. Surely Marguerite realized what a cantankerous lout her son was and that he wasn't Kate's type at all!

"Well, wonderful!" the woman said. Ignoring her son's scowl, Marguerite smiled like the cat who got the cream, then asked, "Do you have something to wear to the wedding, dear?"

"Oh." Kate's smile faltered. She'd packed something for every possible occasion except a wedding. There'd been no way to see that coming, and Kate didn't think the slinky black dress she'd brought to cover the possibility of an evening out would work.

"Ah-ha!" Lucern was now the one looking pleased. "She hasn't anything to wear, Mother. She can't"

"A quick trip to my modiste, I think," Marguerite cut him off. Then she confided to Kate, "She always has something for just such an emergency. And a visit with my hairdresser will work magic on your hair, and we'll be set."

Kate felt herself relax, and could have hugged the woman. Marguerite was wonderful. Much too good to have a son like Lucern. The woman was clever, charming and a pleasure to be around. Unlike a certain surly man. Kate's gaze slid to Lucern, and she almost grinned at the misery on his face. She supposed she should feel guilty for forcing herself into his home and staying there, but she didn't. He was in serious need of assistance. He was terribly lacking in social skills and obviously spent way too much time alone. She was good for himshe was sure of it.

"Well, now that it's all settled, I'll be off." Marguerite was quickly on her feet and heading out of the kitchenso quickly that Kate nearly got whiplash watching.

Getting up, she hurried after the woman. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Argeneau," she called as she jogged down the hall in pursuit.

Lucern's mother didn't just look young, she was as spry as could be for the mother of a man who had to be at least thirty-five. How old did that make her? Kate wondered. At least fifty-three. Impossible, she thought, but kept the thought to herself and merely added, "I really appreciate your generous offer to help me shop and"

"Nonsense, dear. I'm grateful to you for being here to accompany Luc." Marguerite paused and allowed Kate to catch up. "Why, you should have seen the poor man at his sister's wedding. I've never seen Luc run so fast or hide so much. It's the ladies, you know. They tend to chase after him."

Kate's eyebrows flew up in patent disbelief at that.

A bubble of laughter burst from Marguerite. "Hard to believe when Luc is so curmudgeonly, isn't it? But I think it's the hunt that attracts them. He makes it obvious he isn't interested, and they react like hounds after a fox. With you there to act as his escort, he'll be able to relax and enjoy the celebration this time. And once he realizes that, he'll be grateful for your presence, too."

Kate didn't bother to hide her doubt that Lucern Argeneau could ever be grateful for anything. The man was more than curmudgeonly in her opinion.

"He may seem crusty on the outside, dear," Marguerite said solemnly, obviously reading her thoughts. "But he's rather like a toasted marshmallow, soft and mushy