The Vampire and the Virgin Read Free

exercise room—”
    “They do fencing and martial arts?” Robby asked. He could use some practice with his sword.
    “Well, actually, they’re more into Pilates and yoga.” When Robby snorted, she raised a hand to stop his
    objection. “Now listen. Those are excellent exercises for gaining flexibility and balance. You need that right now.”
    “And do ye expect me to kill Casimir by holding a yoga pose for thirty seconds?”
    Emma frowned. “There you go again with the killing. This obsession is not healthy, Robby. You’re lucky to be
    alive. You need to learn how to smell the roses again. Yoga will help you relax and find your center.”
    “I doona think I ever lost it.” He touched his flat stomach.
    “If you don’t want to do yoga, fine,” Emma snapped. “I was looking at their brochure, and they have lots of
    ways to help you achieve inner peace. There’s the hydrothermic massage in the Tropical Tranquility Grotto or
    the rejuvenating body wrap with aromatic oils. When’s the last time you exfoliated?”
    Robby looked at Angus. “Is she still speaking English?”
    Angus snorted. “Show respect to yer elders, lad.”
    “Are ye joking? I’m a few centuries older than her.”
    “True.” Emma’s mouth twitched. “But when I married Angus, I became your great-great grandmother.”
    “Stepgrandmother,” Robby corrected her, then arched a brow. “Make that evil stepgrandmother.”
    She laughed. “That may be, since I expect you to stay at the spa for at least three months.”
    “What?” Robby gave her and Angus an incredulous look. “Ye canna be serious. If I doona practice with my
    sword for three months, I willna be fit for duty.”
    “They also have an excellent Vamp psychologist—”
    “Nay!” Robby interrupted her. Now he knew why they were pushing this damned spa on him. “I’m no’ going to
    a psychologist.”
    “Lad,” Angus began. “Ye’re suffering from post-traumatic—”
    “I know damned well what I suffered. I doona need to whine about it to a therapist. ’Tis a complete waste of
    time.” There was no way he was going to talk about what had happened to him. Why on earth would he
    describe every painful, humiliating detail? It would be torture all over again. No, it was much better to simply put
    the whole nasty ordeal behind him. And kill the bastards.
    Emma took a deep breath. “If we made it an order—”
    “Then I would quit,” Robby interrupted again. He could hunt down Casimir on his own.
    Angus gave his wife a sympathetic look. “I knew he wouldna agree to yer fancy spa, but ye gave it a good try.”
    He glanced at Robby. “We doona want you to quit, lad. We just want you to get better, both in body and mind.”
    “I’m no’ crazy,” Robby growled.
    “Nay, but ye’re angry as hell, and it makes you too unstable for work. No’ only would ye be risking yer own life,
    but the lives of anyone working with you.”
    Bugger. Robby ground the tip of his sword against the brick pathway. Angus knew exactly how to get to him.
    He could never put the lives of his friends at risk. “I might agree to a short vacation. That’s all.”
    “Good.” Angus nodded. “Ye can use our castle in Scotland, or Jean-Luc has offered his home in Paris.”
    “Been there, done that,” Robby mumbled. He’d been head of security for Jean-Luc in Paris for ten years.
    “Jack said ye could use his palazzo in Venice,” Angus continued.
    “Does everyone want rid of me?” Robby grumbled.
    “We all want you to get better,” Emma insisted. “Roman offered his villa in Tuscany or his new one on
    Patmos.”
    “Patmos?” He’d never been there before.
    “’Tis a Greek isle,” Angus explained. “Verra lovely, I hear.”
    “It’s where Saint John envisioned Revelations and the end of the world,” Emma added.
    “Well, that’s comforting.” Robby shrugged one shoulder. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll go for a week or two.”
    “Four months,” Angus said.
    Robby gaped. “