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Authors: Eve Vaughn

GianMarco

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GianMarco

 

 

 

By

 

Eve Vaughn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.
Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead
is entirely coincidental.

 

All trademarks, service marks, registered service marks are the property of their
respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

 

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

GianMarco

Copyright © 2013 Eve Vaughn

E
lectronic book publication November
2013

 

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used
in whole or in part by any means without permission from the author,
Eve Vaughn
.

 

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is
illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet
or any other means electronic or print, without the author’s permission. Criminal
copyright infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable
by up to 5 years in Federal Prison and a fine of $250,000. For more information regarding
the government’s stance on copy
right infringement visit
:
http://www.fbi.gov/ipr.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

To my readers, thank you so much for supporting me, and keeping me going. I hope you’ll
enjoy reading this book as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once bitten
, twice shy…

 

Private detective Gia
nMarco Grimaldi takes his pleasure
wherever he pleases. A six-hundred-year-old vampire, he
’s
tortured by his past and jaded by immortality. Once a promising artist, a personal
tragedy turned him to a life of bitter solitude, avoiding a
nything
and
anyone who reminds him of the life he used to have.

 

Fed up with GianMarco’s habit of sleeping with the administrative assistants in their
agency, GianMarco’s business partner hires someone he thinks GianMarco will have no
interest in: Maggie Williams.

 

Maggie’s trying to put the pieces of her life back together after her husband of twenty-three
years left her for another woman. Determined to start her new job with pride, she’s
dismayed to meet her arrogant, super-sexy boss.

 

As passion threatens their hearts, a powerful enemy from GianMarco’s past threatens
their very lives.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue 1483

 

GianMarco Grimaldi
was on top of the world. He had just been commissioned to paint Lorenzo de’ Medici
himself. With such a wealthy and influential patron, his career would take off.
At eighty-six, he was still relatively young for a vampire, so this was quite an accomplishment.
It salved his ego after losing out to Leonardo for the job to immortalize Signore
Giocanda’s third wife, Lisa, on canvas.

His brother Dante had offered to use his connections to help him receive more commissions,
but GianMarco wanted to do things on his own. How would he know his own worth if everything
was handed to him so easily? Painting was his passion, and he wouldn’t feel right
if he became recognized only because of his brother’s help.

He smiled as he walked the busy streets of downtown Florence. The air was crisp and
the sun’s rays warmed his face. Thoughts of his beautiful wife, Bianca, filled his
head and his heart. She would be home nursing their son, Giovanni, who was only two
weeks old. Already the baby vampire was a joy to his mama and papa. Images of his
wife’s full-figured body made his cock stir. Just the mere thought of her big, firm
breasts, thick thighs, and bountiful bottom were enough to give him an instant erection.

He loved running his hands over her voluptuous frame. There was no other feeling like
making love to big, beautiful women; their soft, pliant bodies, with all that silky
flesh for him to partake in, were like rare treasures. It was because of him that
his good friend Alessandro began to paint full-figured women. Many people around Florence
were all abuzz over Sandro’s new painting,
The Birth of Venus
. The model for that particular masterpiece had once been one of GianMarco’s favorite
subjects, and he had spent many long nights between her creamy white thighs, but when
Bianca came along, everything had changed.

They met at a festival. The instant their gazes locked, GianMarco knew he had to have
her. Bianca had come from a very conservative family, however, so it had taken GianMarco
several months of coaxing to get her to model for him. To the casual observer, Bianca
would not be classified as beautiful. Some would say she was not even pretty, but
her enticing figure, sweet smile, and kind, gentle spirit had been enough to make
GianMarco fall hard.

Most of his paintings featured her as his subject; she was his muse, and he had never
painted so well until he had met her. Because he was a vampire, his work was already
superior to most artists who were considered masters, but Bianca had inspired him
to even greater heights.

She would be so pleased for him about this feather in his cap. With de’ Medici’s patronage,
more offers would soon follow. They could use the money he earned to buy the little
cottage in the country like Bianca wanted. Florence was an exciting city, but not
ideal for raising children.

He hoped they could have more
bambinos
eventually, but there was no hurry. They had an eternity, after all. He whistled
happily as he walked down the narrow alley to get to his apartment. The icy chill
of premonition struck him as an alarm went off in his head. He sensed something was
wrong with Bianca.

GianMarco hurried the short distance to the front door of his apartment. The door
was halfway open. Something was definitely wasn’t right. On numerous occasions, he
had stressed to Bianca the importance of keeping the door bolted when he was not home.
Young vampires were too vulnerable to the dangers that often awaited them. Bianca
had only been a vampire for a year, and their son was newly born. They were prime
targets for rogues. The very thought of anything happening to his wife and child sent
a made him shudder with fear.

The second he rushed through the door, the smell of blood infiltrated his nostrils.
He sharpened his fingers to talons and allowed his incisors to descend. The heat in
his eyes indicated they glowed.

“Bianca!” he called out as he raced to the bedroom.

His heart temporarily stopped beating when he was greeted by his very nightmare come
true. Lying naked on the bed with her legs spread at an unnatural angle was his wife.
Dried blood stained her mouth and vagina. A huge gaping hole had left her chest wide
open.

“Bianca!” He cried out, this time in despair as he rushed to her side. He grasped
her still body and cradled it in his arm. Her sightless eyes stared at the ceiling.


Carissima
,” he whispered in anguish. “
Cara mia
.” He stroked her silky raven tresses. GianMarco didn’t have the luxury of giving
in to his grief because it occurred to him how eerily silent the residence was.

Gio! He released his wife and flashed to his son’s room. The sight of his dismembered
son nearly made him faint. Rogues! No others could be so cold-blooded as to kill an
innocent woman and her child. As GianMarco numbly walked back to his lifeless wife,
he noticed something in her hand.

She held a large clump of bloody auburn hair indicating she had put up a fight, but
unfortunately, it had not been enough to save her life. He cursed himself for not
having been there to protect his family. The rogues who were responsible for murdering
his wife and son would pay dearly.

He felt as if his heart would explode with the tremendous pain that had taken over
him. GianMarco let out a primal scream before collapsing to the floor in a sobbing
heap. His muse was dead, and so was his reason for living.

 

Chapter One

 

The Present

 

“This has got to stop, Marc. We have been through three administrative assistants
in the past six months, and dammit, I am not here to answer phones and do paperwork!”
Oliver shouted at his partner. “And at the very least you can look like you give a
damn about what I’m saying to you because right now it doesn’t seem like you particularly
care.”

GianMarco shrugged. He glanced at the wall clock in boredom. They’d had this conversation
after the last assistant quit, and the one before. He was sure they’d have this talk
again. And his friend was right: he didn’t care. “What exactly do you want me to
do about it?”

Oliver’s face turned bright red in his apparent frustration. “Stop fucking the goddamn
employees, that’s what you can do! We’re supposed to be running a legitimate business
here, not a brothel. And another thing, you’re lucky we haven’t been threatened with
a lawsuit.”

“It’s not as if they would win.”

“That’s beside the point.”

GianMarco examined his nails casually, giving Oliver only his partial attention. “I
can’t help that they throw themselves at me.”

“You’re the boss; you don’t have to take them up on their offers, for chrissakes.
You know what your problem is?”

GianMarco had little interest in what his friend had to say on this subject in the
first place and didn’t care to have another assessment of his character. “No, Oliver,
I don’t know what my problem is, but I’m sure you will enlighten me.”

“You’re a sex addict. I know you’ve told me time and time again that vampires need
to fuck, but really, I think it’s just an excuse for you to continue doing whatever
the hell you want.”

“Considering all of the things that one can become addicted to, I hardly think enjoying
sex is the end of the world.”

“But you have sex all the time. That can’t be good for you.”

GianMarco grunted, tired of explaining vampire culture to his human friend, who refused
to get it.

“It’s the way of my kind.”

“You keep saying that but it’s almost as if you can’t get enough of it. Shit, even
if I could get it all the time, I wouldn’t because it’s just not normal,” Oliver ranted.

A smile touched GianMarco’s lips. Oliver Townsend was a good friend and an excellent
man of business, but right now he was being a huge pain in the ass.

“Normal according to whom? You? I like pussy; it is not a crime. Perhaps my screwing
that which is so freely given to me makes you jealous because your wife doesn’t put
out. I don’t see why a virile man like you has to beg to have a few moments between
his own wife’s legs. If you need me to set you up with a woman who’s willing to satisfy
you sexually all you need to do is ask.” GianMarco smirked and gave his partner a
wink.

Oliver turned an even darker shade of red than he had before, clearly not amused with
GianMarco’s flippant response. “I’m not jealous, and I will thank you not to talk
about Theresa like she’s some common slut. She’s my wife. Yes, we’ve had our problems
lately, but she had a hard time in childbirth, and it’s taking a little while for
her to get comfortable with lovemaking again.”

“Oliver, your wife gave birth over a year ago. Your son is about eighteen months,
correct?” GianMarco smirked at the other man’s flushed face. He didn’t set out to
embarrass Oliver, but he was tired of being lectured on who he was and wasn’t allowed
to fuck. And he certainly didn’t need an indictment of his morals and imaginary sex
addiction.

The private detective agency he and Oliver had founded together had become a success.
They had a reputation for uncovering things other agencies were hard-pressed to find
out.

It helped to have an over six-hundred-year-old vampire working cases. GianMarco could
get into places others couldn’t, and hear and see things that most humans would miss.
Being a private eye was one of his more interesting professions. Throughout his lifetime,
he had amassed a fortune and didn’t really need to work, but keeping busy stopped
him from thinking about the past.

GianMarco had had many careers over the years. He had been a doctor, a lawyer, a fireman,
and a policeman, to name a few. He never stayed in a profession for more than thirty
years, lest people became suspicious over the fact that he never aged. In his opinion
it was stupid for immortals to live in anonymity, just so humans could sleep better
at night. The misconception about beings like him could fill a book. Most vampires
had better things to do with their time than stalking innocent victims simply to bite
their necks.

His last job as a police officer in Washington, D.C., was where he’d met Oliver. They
had been partners and quickly became friends. Oliver, who was very perceptive, soon
realized GianMarco was something out of the ordinary. However, he didn’t believe the
man he’d worked alongside of was in fact a vampire.

Though he’d witnessed many unexplainable events, like the time when GianMarco had
been shot in the neck by a stray bullet in a shootout and the gash instantly healed,
it still took a while to convince the nonbeliever. Once Oliver finally accepted GianMarco’s
immortality, their bond grew stronger. They had been partners for nearly ten years
when Oliver was injured on the job, receiving a gunshot wound that missed his heart
by a mere inch. It was just the thing his wife needed to convince Oliver to leave
the force. GianMarco suspected the real reason Theresa wanted Oliver to leave the
force was because police officers didn’t make enough money for someone who spent most
of her days shopping.

Though GianMarco had offered to help Oliver financially, his friend was too proud
to accept. That was when GianMarco suggested they go into business together and thus
their agency, G and T Associates, was born. Oliver had insisted that he put up half
of the capital; otherwise he wouldn’t feel it was a true partnership. GianMarco didn’t
mind one way or the other. When the time came for GianMarco to move on to his next
adventure in life, the agency would belong to Oliver exclusively.

The first administrative assistant they had hired was Oliver’s cousin Molly, who had
lasted about a year. Eighteen and fresh out of high school, Molly spent more time
making phone calls than answering them and coming on to GianMarco. They had been willing
to overlook those transgressions, but when they discovered Molly was helping herself
to the petty cash, she was dismissed.

Next was Georgia, a cute blonde who seemed competent enough in the beginning but soon
seemed more interested in getting into GianMarco’s pants than doing her job. After
she had been throwing herself at him over and over again, he finally gave in to temptation.

One afternoon when Oliver had been out of the office, GianMarco threw Georgia on his
desk and ate her pussy for hours. That had been their only sexual encounter, because
she’d made no secret of wanting a relationship, something he wasn’t willing to offer
anyone. She handed in her resignation with a few choice words for GianMarco when he
made it clear she was just a piece of ass to him.

Then came Sally, a tall, willowy brunette who liked anal sex above all else. She quickly
went the way of Georgia, lasting only a month.

Their last administrative assistant was Josephine, a haughty redhead who acted as
if her shit didn’t stink. GianMarco liked a challenge, and it had been a pleasure
to seduce and screw her bowlegged. Josephine had only been a redhead on top.

It was only when Oliver had come back to the office from a stakeout earlier than he
was supposed to that he caught GianMarco with his cock thrust to the hilt in Josephine’s
pussy. To add insult to injury, they had been fucking on Oliver’s desk. The woman
had been so mortified she’d quit on the spot. GianMarco didn’t miss her. He had only
fucked her to wipe that superior sneer off her face. There were others but they were
forgettable.

Oliver interrupted his thoughts.

“Marc, are you listening to me?”

“What?” GianMarco frowned. “What were you saying?”

“I said, this time I am going to hire an administrative assistant you won’t screw.”

“Ah, so do you intend to hire a man? Although I prefer women, the right guy could
make me change my mind,” GianMarco joked.

“Stop it! I’m serious. No more fucking the employees, and to ensure that you don’t
I will make sure that the next person is someone you couldn’t possibly find attractive.”

“And what do you know about what I will find appealing and what I won’t?”

“We’ve known each other for quite a while, Marc. I think I’ve learned a few things
about your taste in women.”

“Oh? Since you know so much about my preferences, please tell me what it is that I
like,” GianMarco prodded, suddenly amused.

“If I’m being honest, I’d say you’re one of the shallowest bastards I know where women
are concerned. You like the drop-dead-gorgeous types without an ounce of meat on their
bones. That’s why you hate Theresa so much, because she weighs a little more than
you think is the ideal of beauty.”

GianMarco didn’t want to piss Olivier off any further by telling him the real reason
he couldn’t stand Theresa was because she’s a bitch. The argument that would ensue
wasn’t worth it.
“If you say so.” He shrugged, bored with the conversation. “Do whatever you want.
I’ll be out of the office for the next couple of weeks to deal with some family issues.
I won’t touch the precious administrative assistants anymore,” he stated with disinterest.

Oliver didn’t realize just how far off he was in assessing GianMarco’s true preferences.

<>
<>
<>
<>
<>

Maggie Williams carefully looked through the classified section of the newspaper.
There were three possible jobs that she might be qualified for.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” She threw the paper down and buried her face in her hands.
She wanted this nightmare to be over. This process of getting back on her feet was
going to be long and painful. If she hadn’t been so stubborn and taken Eugene up on
his offer, she wouldn’t be looking through the classifieds now. But she didn’t want
anything from him. It was time she stood on her own two feet.

If someone had told her three months ago she would be living in a tiny efficiency,
barely scraping together enough to make ends meet, she would have laughed in their
face. Though her marriage had been going through a rough patch, Maggie had believed
she and her husband would work things out eventually.

Her life was now officially a joke. The one thing she had ever wanted above all things
was to be part of a loving family. Having been bounced from one foster home to the
next as a child, she had longed for stability. When she had met Eugene in high school,
she had thought of him as her knight in shining armor.

She had been a sophomore and he a senior. Maggie had never had a boyfriend before
and she was flattered when he asked her out. Eugene had told her she was beautiful
and her smile was like a ray of sunshine. He would buy little gifts for her just because.
He made her feel special. With all the attention he lavished on her, Maggie couldn’t
help but fall head-over-heels in love. When she became pregnant at seventeen with
his child, Eugene had offered to marry her. Once he slipped that gold band on her
finger, it seemed as if her prayers had been answered.

In the beginning things were good, but after a while he stopped doing the little things
she’d come to expect from him, though she never complained. Perhaps over the years
she had turned a blind eye to the fact Eugene wasn’t the most sensitive of men, or
that at times he had treated her as though she was stupid when she said something
he didn’t agree with. Maggie had so desperately wanted to be loved, and was so afraid
of being cast aside she had pretended she had a normal, happy family. She often found
herself ignoring Eugene’s late nights and the smell of a perfume that wasn’t hers
clinging to his clothes.

She didn’t want to believe Eugene could casually discard her like an old piece of
furniture after twenty-three years of marriage but his callous treatment of her had
been a huge warning sign. She’d simply ignored it. She shivered as she remembered
his final cruel words as if it were yesterday.

Maggie had been packing their suitcases for a long week in North Carolina. She dreaded
the Williams family reunions. Her mother-in-law was less than friendly, if not downright
hostile, to the woman she felt had “trapped” her baby into marriage. The rest of Eugene’s
family was no better, referring to her as “that woman.” The only person in the Williams
clan who had even treated Maggie like a human being had been Eugene’s grandmother.

When the other members of the Williams clan ignored her, the dear old lady would always
have something nice to say to Maggie. Many times, she got Maggie through unbearable
family functions. At one particular function she had confided to Maggie that when
she herself had married into the Williams clan, she hadn’t been considered pretty
enough for one of the precious Williams boys. Those in her social circle had not been
very nice to her either, until her husband died and she had inherited all his money.
She took glee in the fact that they all had to kiss her butt if they wanted something.

Grandma Williams had been a sweetie, but Maggie had not been allowed to attend the
funeral a few years back because Eugene had said the family was upset enough without
her showing up. That had led to a huge argument and Eugene had left for a month. Maggie
was so grateful when he returned the subject was never brought up again. Eugene had
disappeared before, but never for that long. While there were many incidents where
Eugene would say something hurtful and storm off if she dared to defend herself, that
particular time had been one of the more painful memories. Still, she somehow found
the wherewithal to keep a smile on her face and pretended everything was okay for
the sake of her children.

It didn’t help matters that Eugene had never stood up to his family on her behalf.
She wondered why she was even bothering to go to his family reunion where she would
be virtually ignored or treated like a trespasser. At the last reunion, she had brought
her peach cobbler which had always been a hit when she took it to the farmers’ market.
Everyone had loved it and couldn’t get enough of the tasty confection, but when it
was discovered that Maggie had made it, her mother-in-law had gone so far as to dump
the remainder of the cobbler in the dumpster.

Eugene had laughed it off, saying his mother could be eccentric at times. In Maggie’s
opinion, ‘evil, old battleaxe’ would have been a more accurate assessment.

As Maggie finished putting the last article of clothing into the suitcase, Eugene
had come into the room with an inscrutable expression on his face. She should have
known something was up right away because he refused to make eye contact, something
he never had trouble doing when he was hurling insults her way. He was below average
height for a man, with smooth onyx skin, slightly darker than her own rich chocolate
complexion. He was not what one might consider handsome, but he exuded an aura of
confidence that women found attractive.

Maggie shut the suitcase and took a deep breath hoping she wasn’t in store for another
verbal assault. “I’m done packing. I was thinking I could pack a few sandwiches and
sodas so we won’t have to stop as much on the way down since you’re not a fan of making
unnecessary stops. I can be done in fifteen minutes.”

“That won’t be necessary, Margaret.” Eugene sighed heavily. Now she was certain something
wasn’t right. Eugene never called her Margaret unless he was mad at her about something.

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