The Renaissance ball was awful. When thinking about the era, Lucern had forgotten one thing: the dresses the women wore. He remembered unhappily just as Kate stepped out of her bedroom and into the shared living room.

She wore a full-length Elizabethan gown of burgundy brocade and white lace. It had a velvet bodice with the traditional pointed stomacher. Her long skirts and sleeve caps were pleated. She looked lovely. Truly. But the bodice was what really made the gown; it forced her breasts together and up so that they appeared ready to tumble out at any moment. Lucern's mouth began to water the moment she appeared. Then it struck him that he wouldn't be the only one looking at those luscious round orbs on such display. Kate was going to wear this damn thing in public. He didn't like that thought at all.

Lucern had opened his mouth to tell her so when she froze and blinked at him. "What the hell are you wearing?" she asked.

He stiffened in surprise. Glancing down at the dark blue costume he wore, he said, "This is traditional sixteenth-century wear," he said. "Did you not order it?"

"Yes, of course. But I just told them the sizes and didn't specify" Kate's voice trailed off, and she frowned at him.

"You don't like it?"

"Like it? Well, it's just you look kind of er froufrou," she said at last. "I mean the black leotards show off your legs nicely, but ?"

"They are called trunk hose," Lucern informed her. He was still trying to figure out what froufrou meant. It didn't sound complimentary, the way she said it. Unhappily, he did not keep up with modern euphemisms. He really should get out more. "I thought you edited historical romance, too," he said, perhaps a touch peevishly.

"Mostly medieval," she explained. "Renaissance hasn't been that popular." Her lips pursed, then twisted somewhat to the side. "So, what is that er"she waved in the general direction of his groin"that duck thing?"

Lucern sighed. "It is a codpiece."

"Oh." She nodded slowly, considering the rather exaggerated item.

Lucern peered down and considered it as well. It was huge, a puffed and slashed bag ornamented with several jeweled pins. It was also a tad misshapen from storage and did vaguely resemble a duck. This was obviously an early Renaissance costume. The codpiece had fallen out of favor during Queen Elizabeth's reign.

"I have read about those, but I thought they were supposed to be er rounder or something. You're going to hurt yourself. Someone will walk past you, bang into it and"

"Hey! You two look great!" Chris came out of his room wearing a red and burgundy outfit not unlike Lucern's. His codpiece was a tad more normal, however.

Lucern smiled at the younger man, feeling the tension seep out of him. He hadn't cared for having Kate pick on his costume, and even worse was having her attention focused on his codpiece. Knowing she was staring had made the bit of anatomy it covered stir with interest.

"So"Chris glanced from one of them to the other"are we ready to go?"

Kate was positive her breasts were going to pop out of her gown. She was doing her best not to breathe, in order to prevent it from happening, but every time she had to curtsy she also said a little prayer that they stay in place. Fortunately, they didbut each time she straightened it was to find Lucern glaring at every man within looking distance. Kate found it rather amusing. What she didn't find amusing was the way women were staring at Luc's codpiece. The damned thing sparkled and glittered, to jeweled pins catching every passing light. Kate's own eyes had been drawn repeatedly as well. It was damned embarrassing how distracting the thing was. Not that Lucern seemed to notice. If he was aware of the way two thousand women in the room were gawking at his groin, he pretended not to be and walked with pride. She didn't know where he got the courage. Had she walked in wearing sparkling cones on her breasts, she would have been cringing and trying to hide them.

"Wow, what a bash, huh?" Chris commented.

Kate peered around at the entertainment. There were musicians, jesters, dancers and minstrels. It really did resemble how she imagined a ball of old would appear. Her hand tightened on Lucern's arm, and she leaned up to his ear to whisper, "Is this how it really was?"

He hesitated. "Somewhat. Of course, the lighting would have been dimmer. We had only candlelight then, no electricity. The floor would have been covered with rushes. Dogs and rats would have been scavenging for spare bits of food. The smell would have been far less pleasant and"

"That's okay," Kate interrupted. "I like our ball better."

"Hmm." He nodded.

They found a table and were barely seated when Jodi and several other writers joined them. The conversation was at first dominated by amazement at Lady Barrow's accomplishment. The jesters were amusing, the minstrels played ancient instruments. The dinner, when it was served, was delicious if not quite true Renaissance fare.

Once the plates were cleared away, the dancing began. Lucern murmured that he would be back in a moment, and Kate, presuming he had to go to the men's room, nodded absently, her attention on the dancers swirling around the room. She turned to say something to Jodi, who had taken the seat on Lucern's other side, but paused when she saw Lucern was still there. "I thought you were"

Her voice trailed away as she noted that his hands were under the table. He appeared to be doing something. "What ?" she began in amazement.

"I am caught on something," he said shortly.

Kate blinked, confusion filling her mind. "What do you mean, you're caught on something?" She was imagining well, it was best she didn't think too long on what she was imagining. She soon learned it was worse than that.

"The tablecloth," he said, ducking slightly to the side in an attempt to see the problem. "One of the pins."

It was all he had to say; Kate got the picture at once. One of the jeweled pins on his codpiece had somehow gotten caught on the tablecloth. Much to her horror, a burst of laughter slipped from her lips.

Lucern wasn't amused. "This isn't funny," he told her grimly. "I have to relieve myself rather urgently. And I can't get up."

"So you people have to go to the bathroom, too?" Kate asked with interest.

Lucern glared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Where do you get your thoughts?"

"Well," she explained in self-defense, "Bram in his books, never had Dracula relieve himself. I just never thought"

"I doubt if he had Mina relieve herself, either," Lucern growled. He jerked at the tablecloth, making it and everything on it slide an inch or so toward him.

The conversation around the table stopped. Kate glanced up to see that everyone was staring at Lucern with varying levels of horrified fascination. Knowing that Lucern would never ask for help, Kate decided to save him from his pride. She drew attention to herself by clearing her throat, then smiled at Chris. "C.K., can you help Lucern? He's in some difficulty."

"Sure, what's the problem?" Her friend started to rise.

"One of the pins on his codpiece has attached itself to the tablecloth. Maybe you could crawl under the table and set him loose," she suggested.

Chris laughed and paused. "You're kidding, right?"

When she shook her head, he dropped abruptly back into his seat. "Sorry. Codpiece removal is not my department."

"Chris!" Kate said grimly.

"Kate," he responded dryly. "He's your writer. You crawl under the table and undo him."

"I thought you liked him," she said accusingly.

"Not that much," Chris shot back. Then he glanced apologetically to Lucern. "Sorry, Luc."

"I quite understand. I'll manage." He responded with dignity, but he was blushing fiercely, Kate noted with interest. She hadn't known that vampires could blush.

He jerked the tablecloth again in his efforts, and Kate frowned. He was going to upset the table or wreck the costume she'd rented. Neither option was a good one. She had no desire to find the remnants of the dinner on her rented costume; she didn't want to have to pay to clean it. Nor did she want to replace the ridiculous codpiece Lucern wore because he'd ruined it. Swallowing the last of her wine, she set her glass down and turned to Lucern.

"Okay. Get your hands out of the way and let me have a look."

Lucern hesitated, then brought his hands out and onto the table. Kate promptly bent down to try to see what was going on. She was at the wrong angle. "Can't you back any further out?" she asked.

"Not without taking the tablecloth with me," he snapped.

She straightened and peered around selfconsciously, not surprised to see the tableful of writers all watching avidly. Her gaze found Jodi's on the opposite side of Lucern. "I can't see anything from this angle. I'm going to have to get under the table."

Jodi's eyes rounded; then she got to her feet. "Come on, girls. There's no need for everyone to know what's going on. We can act as a barricade."

The other authors all promptly got to their feet and moved around the table. Kate watched with relief as they formed a semicircle around her seat and Lucern's, their wide skirts making a nice curtain. Chris was the only one left seated. He watched the operation with wide eyes, apparently unsure whether he should be horrified or laugh.

"Go ahead," Jodi said once everyone was in place. The other writers nodded.

Kate felt ridiculously like a soldier being sent on a solo secret mission. Wishing she'd had more wine, she took a deep breath then slid off her seat and under the table. It was terribly dark. And hot. She knelt to the side of Lucern's hosed legs, her head twisted, attempting to see the pin and what it was caught on, but she wasn't quite at the right angle and wasn't close enough.

Muttering under her breath, Kate eased closer, around his leg until she knelt between his knees; then she reached tentatively for the bunched-up tablecloth. She was absolutely not going to touch his codpiece, at least not if she could help it. She lifted the cloth a bit, but it really was attached.

"Do you need a candle or something under there?" Jodi asked helpfully. Her head suddenly appeared under the table, then it disappeared and Kate heard her ask, "Does anyone have one of those pen light things in their purse? I usually carry one, but"

The rest of what she said was lost to Kate as the other woman straightened.

"You sure get yourself into some interesting situations, Katie my girl," Kate muttered, trying to unbunch the cloth so that she could find where it was attached to Lucern. It was her job to be sure that things ran smoothly for her writers at these things, and to help them out of sticky situations. But it was her considered opinion that this situation was beyond the call of an editor's duties. If it hadn't been Lucern in this bind, she wouldn't even have thought of fixing it herself. Which was an interesting point, one she would contemplate later. She gave a start when something bumped the underside of her hand. It was the codpiece, Kate realized with amazement. It was growing and had bumped into her. Well, what was under it was growing. It seemed Lucern was finding the ordeal something more than just embarrassing.

Lucern wished the ground would open up and devour him. It could even take every one of the writers surrounding him, and Kate too if it liked, so long as it ended this misery, the most embarrassing moment of his life. It wasn't bad enough that his codpiece was attached to a tablecloth, but now Kate was kneeling between his legs trying to untangle him, and that was giving rise to thoughts that had nothing to do with getting free so he could visit the men's room. He was imagining what it would be like if, instead of untangling the tablecloth, she would simply shift the codpiece aside, pull him out and wrap her lips around him. Then he realized he had gone hard, and he hoped to God she didn't notice.

How had he ended up in this position? He was a man who liked order and routine. He did not attend conferences, or Renaissance balls. How had his life got so out of control? Something nudged against his codpiece, and he jerked upright in his seat, drawing the attention of the women around him.

"Sorry." Kate's voice came muffled from under the table. It sounded like she was speaking through gritted teeth. Lucern closed his eyes in humiliation and wished himself staked through the heart.

"Did she stick you with the pin?" Beth, one of the writers, asked in concern.

Lucern grunted in answer, but it came out more like a whimper. Taking that for a yes, Beth patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"Here you are!"

Lucern turned his head to see Lady Barrow making her way to him through the gathering of authors, Jodi pressed herself against the table next to his leg, blocking the view of Kate underneath. Lady Barrow appeared a little curious as to why the women were all clustered there, but she didn't ask. Instead, she smiled at Lucern.

"Allison told me you were feeling better, but I wanted to see for myself."

Lucern stared at her, knowing his eyes had gone as round as pumpkins. Normally, he would have stood when a lady approached; but that was impossible. That wasn't the reason his eyes had gone round, though. The fact was, unaware of Lady Barrow's presence, Kate had just grabbed his codpiece and shifted it. She had alsounintentionally?grabbed hold of the part of his anatomy that was expanding in size, filling to capacity the overlarge codpiece.

"Sorry." Kate's voice came from under the table again. "I'm having trouble seeing this pin."

Lady Barrow's smile froze. Her eyes shot down to where Jodi's skirts hid the table, then traveled up to the writer's alarmed face, then slid to Lucern's mortified expression. Before she could say a word, Kate's voice sounded again. It was irritated and short. "Dammit, Lucern! The moment I get you unhooked, I insist you take these damn pins out. They're a bloody nuisance."

"Luc's codpiece is stuck to the tablecloth," Jodi blurted as Lady Barrow opened her mouth. "Kate's trying to free him."

"His codpiece, she means," Beth put in helpfully. "Kate is trying to free his codpiece from the tablecloth. Not him from his codpiece."

"I see," Lady Barrow murmured, looking not at all sure how to handle the situation. Her dismay lasted only a moment, however; then she gestured for Jodi to move aside, lifted the tablecloth out of the way, and knelt to peer under the table. "Can you see in there, Kate? Or shall I have someone bring a light?"

Lucern felt Kate's hand tighten on him in alarm, and he closed his eyes with a moan.

"Lady Barrow?" Kate's voice sounded incredibly small.

"Yes, it's me. Do you need some light under there?"

The muffled curse that came from under the table was almost drowned out by a sudden guffaw from above. Lucern opened his eyes to see Chris covering his mouth. The man was losing it. Lucern supposed he couldn't blame him. Were he not at the center of this debacle, he might find it horribly amusing as well. As it was, he just found it horrible.

Lucern couldn't hear Kate's muttered answer to Lady Barrow, but it must have been in the affirmative, for the woman straightened, peered around, then summoned one of her workers to find a flashlight. The man was off like a shot; then Lady Barrow turned to survey Lucern's pained expression. She patted his shoulder soothingly. "Never mind. This sort of thing has happened to all of us at one time or another." Her mouth quirked. "Well, not precisely this sort of thing, but you know what I mean."

Lucern groaned and closed his eyes again. Then a bluff voice said, "Well, what's going on here? Why are all my writers just standing about?"

Kate recognized Chuck Morgan's voice and could have wept. Instead, she leaned her head weakly against Lucern's knee and wondered if the situation could possibly get any worse. First Lady Barrow was witness to this humiliating event, and now the president of her company had arrived. Oh, she was really impressing her superiors with this conference! It had all been much easier when Edwin had been in charge and she had only been an assistant.

"What?" Chuck's horrified roar was probably heard from one end of the reception hall to the other, Kate thoughtand judging by the way the general talking and laughter suddenly quieted, she knew she was right. Dear God, soon everyone was going to know she was under here.

Kate heard Lady Barrow's voice, sharp and firm, and she smiled to herself. Kathryn could be as kind as anyone, but she wasn't a woman to take guff and she wasn't afraid of anyone, as far as Kate knew. She had probably just put Chuck in his place for drawing attention to what they had all been trying to hide, and Kate could have hugged the woman.

"There you are!" she heard Lady Barrow exclaim. "Thank you."

The tablecloth lifted, and the woman appeared. Much to Kate's amazement, rather than hand over the flashlight, Kathryn Falk, Lady Barrow, knelt and slid under the table next to her. "It's hot under here, isn't it?" she commented conversationally, as if she did this sort of thing every day. Lady Barrow situated herself, turned on the light, shined it where the tablecloth and codpiece were tangled, then nodded solemnly at Kate. "Get to it, girl. The sooner you get it untangled, the sooner we can get out of here."

It was easier said than done. Lucern was well and truly caught. At least three of the half-dozen pins on his codpiece were stuck at various places in the tablecloth. One pin had probably just snagged at first, then Lucern's tugging had entrapped the others. It took a bit of work to free him.

Lady Barrow remained patient throughout, keeping the light steady, holding the cloth out of the way when Kate needed an extra hand, giving advice and cracking the occasional joke to relieve the stress of the moment. However, even with her help it seemed an excruciatingly long ordeal. And embarrassing, too. As much as she wanted to avoid touching Lucern's codpiece, it was impossibleand more often than not she was holding it in her hand. She was terribly aware of the hard flesh beneath as she twisted the material this way or that, trying to unhook all the pins without getting others caught. She didn't even want to guess at how Lucern felt. It had to be some horrible torture.

If Kate didn't soon stop, Lucern was positive he was going to shame himself right there at the table for all to see. She wasn't touching him in any sexual way, but the very fact she was between his knees and shifting him had him reacting like a teenage boy. He had lived a long, long time, but Lucern had never found himself in quite this situation before. And he hoped to God he never did again.

"There's another one free."

Kate's voice came from beneath the table, and everyone standing around made noises Lucern supposed were congratulatory and encouraging. He tried not to wiggle in his seat as her grip on him again shifted. Generally, his erections didn't point that waybut he supposed she was trying to get at the last pin. By looking down, he could actually see her fingers wrapped around him where they poked out from under the cloth. He glanced up at Jodi and saw her wide-eyed gaze fixed on his lap. He managed a lame smile.

"Oh, dear."

That exclamation from one of the other writers drew both his and Jodi's attention. It was Beth, and she looked absolutely horrified. Lucern felt his heart sink. He had thought that the arrival of the president of Kate's company was the worst thing that could happen, but the writer's expression suggested otherwise.

"What is it?" he asked, deciding it was best to find out.

"You know those documentary people? The ones who have been filming everything?" she asked.

"No." Lucern hadn't heard of any documentaries being filmed.

"They're always shooting documentaries at the R.T. conference," Jodi put in. "They love filming all the women and the finery and such."

"Yes. And don't look now, but they're coming this way. And so is that photographer from the local paper."

"Oh, dear," Jodi murmured. "He's probably looking for Lady Barrow. He's been trailing her all night."

"Damn," Lucern breathed. It had all definitely just got worse.

"Last one," Kate told Lady Barrow with a relief that was echoed by the founder of Romantic Times.

"Good," the woman said.

Kate couldn't blame her; they were both bent, heads tilted to the side and backs pressed against the bottom of the table. Kate had to really respect the woman for coming under here with her. There had been no need, but Lady Barrow had that kind of if-there's-something-to-do, let's-get-it-done personality. Energy and enthusiasm seemed to shimmer off her.

Sighing, Kate forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. One last pin to free and they would be out of there. Then she was going to insist Lucern head straight to the men's room and remove the jeweled pins. She couldn't imagine he had put them on his damned codpiece in the first place, and was grateful she hadn't danced with him before this had happenedshe might have found her dress caught. Wouldn't that have been fun, to untangle right there in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see? As it was, enough people knew she was under a table working on Lucern's codpiece; she didn't need every last attendee of the conference seeing her author's predicament.

"Got it! You're free," Kate called out in relief as the last pin came loose. She started to pull away, only to find her sleeve pulling up short. Somehow, while she had been untangling the tablecloth from the last pin, her sleeve had gotten caught on another. She was now attached to Lucern, wrist to codpiece.

"Damn," she said.

"What is it?" Lady Barrow asked, frowning. Something of an uproar started on the other side of the tablecloth. Everyone seemed to be talking at once.

"I'm caught on one of the pins of his" Kate gasped, rushing forward on her knees to keep her sleeve from ripping as Lucern suddenly scooted backward. The squeal of his chair legs on the floor drowned out her cry of alarm, and she was forced to hurry out from under the table as he started to rise. Kate blinked against a sudden flash, heard Lucern cursing, but was briefly blinded. It had been dark under the table.

"Watch out, Mr. Amirault," Lady Barrow warned, crawling out from under the table. "She's got her sleeve caught on your"

Lady Barrow went silent upon seeing the newest additions to their audience. Kate became aware of them, too, her eyes adjusting and slowly noting the film camera pointed in her direction. There was a photographer, too, with a very professional-looking camera. The flash had been him taking a picture, she realized.

Lucern, doing his best to ignore her hand hanging in front of his groin, said in a pained, polite tone; "Call me Luc, please, Lady Barrow."

"My, my, my," the man with the professional-looking camera said. "You didn't mention this event to me, Lady Barrow."

"Who ?" Kate began, just knowing she didn't want to hear the answer.

"The local paper," Lady Barrow said grimly. She got to her feet. "And now that this emergency is over, I guess I'd better take care of the next."

Jodi and the other writers helped the woman brush down her skirts; then Kathryn Falk took the reporter's arm, turned him away and started to walk him toward her own table.

"I'll lay money she has that man eating out of her hand in ten minutes," Jodi said with admiration. Turning to Lucern and Kate, she smiled encouragingly. "That picture won't make the papers. I guarantee it."