Holidays Bite

Holidays Bite Stephanie’s annual holiday trip turns near-fatal when an accident sends her plunging into an icy creek. She regains consciousness in a cabin with her dangerously sexy, muscled rescuer. Despite her injuries and the frigid storm outside, fantasies about her erotic hero fire her imagination...especially when it seems obvious the attraction is mutual. Still, as things heat up, there are some odd facts about this almost-perfect man that don’t add up--facts that point to an impossible and frightening conclusion: the man of her dreams is a vampire in self-imposed exile during the annual blood cravings that plague him each December. Can she escape his urges and her own desires before his animal nature gets the better of them both? Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves Length: 36,842 words

HOLIDAYS BITE

J. Rose Allister

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

HOLIDAYS BITE Copyright © 2010 by J. Rose Allister E-book ISBN: 1-60601-997-X First E-book Publication: December 2010 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Holidays Bite by J. Rose Allister from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is J. Rose Allister’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Allister’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION To everyone who looks to this season as a time to embrace peace and love—may you find the magic of the holidays within the pages of this romance.

HOLIDAYS BITE J. ROSE ALLISTER Copyright © 2010

Chapter One “You can’t back out at the last minute,” Stephanie said, pressing a cell phone to her ear with one hand while the other rested on her hip. “The truck’s already packed.” “I’m sorry.” Funny, Marcie didn’t sound the least bit sorry. “Besides, you might want to rethink the trip yourself. They’re talking snow up there.” “Gee, snow in December. What a rarity.” “I mean real snow, smart ass. As in a storm is coming in.” “Pops took us when we had to face a little weather. If need be, we can pack out before the bad part hits.” There was a pause. “I just think maybe it’s time to move on. Make new traditions instead of embracing what’s gone.” Stephanie’s teeth clenched. “What’s gone is our father. Why are you so eager to be rid of him?” She heard her sister hiss. “Don’t be so dramatic. His reasons for dragging us up there during the holidays don’t exist anymore, Steph. It seems like a waste to drop everything and freeze my ass off on a hilltop for nothing.” “I don’t consider Dad’s memory nothing. Sorry to hear you find it such a waste.”

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Marcie was still rebutting when Stephanie hung up. She burned with indignation over her sister’s insensitivity and typical stellar timing. The trip to Stanton Peak had been a Mars family tradition for fifteen years. Well, a tradition for Ted Mars and his daughters, anyway. If Marcie wanted to throw those memories away, fine. Stephanie would make the pilgrimage alone. An hour later, she parked her truck at the base of Stanton Peak and eyed the thick roils of ominous clouds overhead. “Great,” she said to no one. “Just effing perfect.” Flakes of snow had already begun a lazy drift downward, and frosted bits stuck to her eyelashes while she made her way to the back of the truck. A storm was indeed coming, so camping overnight was out. No need to drag her tent uphill. She shoved belongings around the truck bed a bit harder than necessary while she decided what to lug and what to leave. She made two trips through ankle-deep snow to haul her camping stove, plastic tub of food and miscellany, a travel chair and a sleeping bag a few minute’s walk up to the peak. The ethereal sound of snowfall, the crunch of fur-lined snow boots, and the swish of nylon snow pants were the only sounds while she made tracks back and forth, and she missed the chatter normally shared among the family during this part of the journey. Once she was set up on the peak, she stamped her boots to chase away a numb tingle in her toes. Her breath came in foggy puffs, cold air stinging with every inhalation. Her nose was running, and she knew it must look bright pink by now. She tugged her knit cap down tight over her ears and checked out the view in front of her. Though her climb up Stanton Peak was barely a challenge, the back side of the hill was another matter. The edge dropped off a steep slope down to Yeltin Creek, cutting through the woods the Mars’ gang lovingly referred to as the “wilds.” The land should probably be part of some state preserve but was privately owned by someone with

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no interest in selling out. Looking out over the wondrous vista, she supposed she couldn’t blame them. The woodsy view from up here was breathtakingly beautiful and familiar. She watched the swollen creek tumble below in a mad fury, rushing off to some unknown destiny. Turning away to make some hot cocoa with the camp stove, a dozen memories trailed her of past holiday seasons when the bickering between her mother’s Jewish and father’s Protestant families came to its annual head. Who would celebrate what holiday where and why had driven Ted Mars nuts every year. Stephanie had been ten the year he’d finally snapped and fled, taking the girls for a camp out to escape the drama. This sparked an annual tradition, and when their father passed away just before the trip last year, she and Marcie went themselves. Now her sister couldn’t be bothered to brave a little chill in order to share a cocoa toast in his honor. Fine. “Heya, Pete,” she said. “At least you’re always here.” Stephanie stooped to gather pine cones scattered around Pete, the lone pine standing near the pinnacle of Stanton Peak. Every year they decorated Pete the Pine with edibles for the birds that they left, and battery-operated lights they took home when their camp out was over. She wouldn’t be staying long enough to bother pulling those out of the tub this year. She popped open her plastic tub and pulled out her decorating supplies. Before long, the snow-capped pine sat adorned with cranberries strung onto thin yarn and pine cones smeared with peanut butter and bird seed. The birds would have a festive treat for her efforts, at least. She finished reciting a Chanukah blessing while she lit the fifth candle of the Menorah sitting atop the lid of her plastic tub. “She-oso Nissim La-avoseynu,” she said in rusty Hebrew. “Bayyomim Ho-heym Ba-zzman Ha-zze.” She sat back and checked out her handiwork. The tree décor looked sparse, lonely. But she’d done it. She sipped her cocoa, the

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welcome warmth of steam thawing her face while she sat on her travel chair. “Happy holidays, Pops,” she said, holding her cup aloft while she recited the only seasonal greetings they’d been allowed to say. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her heavy black parka to erase tears. Then she noticed the top of the tree. “Dad’s topper,” she said. The rough star had been whittled by Pops their very first trip and had graced Pete as high up as they could reach each year while the now twenty-foot Douglas Spruce climbed steadily upward. No trek to the peak could be counted complete without the memento. Night was rapidly darkening an already dim sky, and she was glad for the light of the menorah in her hand while she rummaged in her tub for the wooden star. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found it, and after re-situating her Chanukah display she took the topper over to the tree. After she tucked the star among the branches she’d fry up some of the latke batter she’d brought on the little camping stove. Thoughts of the heady onion scent brought a smile as she reached up to stick the star on Pete. Standing on tiptoe was a difficult feat when she kept sinking into snow, but she balanced as best as she could to nestle the star on a high branch. Then her clumsy, half-frozen feet stumbled. As she flailed out to steady herself, the star flew from her hand. “Damn it!” She whipped her head toward the edge of the peak, afraid to confirm with her eyes what she knew in her heart. By some holiday miracle, however, the star had not skittered over the side as she’d feared. Its top point stuck fast in the snow near the edge. With a sigh of relief, she crunched through the white powder that was falling around her more heavily now, then skirted a large stone and came to a cautious stop by the edge of the cliff. Her boot slipped a bit toward the edge when she bent to retrieve the topper, and panic clutched her stomach when she realized too late that she wasn’t truly

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standing on the peak’s edge at all. The snow’s thick pile was deceptive and gave way under her foot. She hit the top of the peak stomach-down and then slid until her legs hung over the edge. “Help me! Oh, God.” Her gloves scrabbled frantically to gain purchase for a moment, then with a shriek she plummeted down the side of the hill. The star was somehow in her hand as her body twisted and rolled, snow burning the side of her face. She bounced hard on one hip and kept skidding at high speed to the bottom of the hill. Sharp sticks and rocks and who knew what else sliced through her nylon pants while she rolled along like a helpless rag doll, but all other sensations from the terrifying fall ceased in an instant when she heard a loud splash. Her body hit the creek with an agonizing clench of muscles seized by icy water. Every inch of her failed in that moment, from the breath in her lungs to flaccid arms and legs that couldn’t function enough to drag her out of the rapidly moving torrent. The current had her before her brain even registered the fact that she had made the splash, and having the wind knocked out of her was the only thing that spared her a lung full of ice water. Her hat dislodged and rushed away. She’d barely managed to pull her head up out of the current when her body remembered how to draw in air, and she choke-sobbed while she hurtled downstream into the night. The last thing she remembered was how sad it would be for her sister to have to mourn two holiday deaths in the family in as many years. Then Stephanie slammed into something hard, and everything she knew sailed away into black.

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Chapter Two Sharp popping and crackling drew Stephanie’s awareness back, and she frowned at the annoying, insistent sound. “Marcie,” she said with mumbled aggravation. “Quit snapping your gum.” “You’re awake.” The voice held a tinge of surprise and did not belong to her sister. On the contrary, it sounded quite male. She pried an eyelid open, regretting the action when a lance of pain stabbed through her temple. She groaned and tried again, slower this time. Through gritty eyes and the haze of a monster headache, she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. First off came the realization that this wasn’t the bedroom she and Marcie shared, and thoughts scrambled to right themselves. Wait. She and Marcie didn’t share a bedroom anymore. They’d long since grown up and moved away. Stephanie’s current bedroom had sunshine yellow bedding Marcie liked to make fun of, because yellow was supposed to be a kitchen color or some such bullshit. Her voice sounded hoarse when she forced words from a raw throat. “Where am I?” “A cabin near Yeltin creek,” the man’s voice said again. “My cabin.” He stood across the moderate-sized room, tall but shadowed by the edges of firelight from a nearby hearth where wood hissed and popped. That explained the annoying gum-snapping noise. “How did I get here?”

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The shadowy figure shifted. “I pulled you out of the creek. Don’t you remember?” The creek. There was something familiar about that. How did she get in the creek? Her memory was muddled, her head spinning. “No.” She frowned and thought harder. “I remember being on Stanton Peak, though.” “Not very fitting weather for a swim.” She glanced down at the hearth to see clothing laid out by the fire. Her eyes flew wide when she noted her parka, pants, and sweater were among them. She took further inventory and discovered she was lying on a couch, heaped with what looked like a pile of Grandma’s oldest quilts. With an uneasy feeling, she peeked beneath them and gasped. “You took my clothes off?” “I couldn’t leave you in them. They were soaking wet and you were freezing to death.” Another look at the floor showed a man’s jeans and sweater lying alongside hers. She didn’t try to keep the suspicion from her voice. “So you figured you may as well take your clothes off, too?” “I went into the water after you and wound up a bit damp myself.” “Oh.” Still, her pulse fluttered. “God, you saw me naked.” He moved toward her, and her breath caught when he stepped out of the shadows. Her rescuer was achingly handsome, with silvery blue eyes and broad, powerful shoulders. What woman wouldn’t want to be saved by this god? “I tried not to look,” he said. “I didn’t pull you from the water because I wanted a date, you know. I was trying to save you from drowning.” An image of this hunk carrying her in his arms and stripping her naked sent a shiver through her. “Who are you?” “My name is Thomas. And yours? You know who you are, I hope.”

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She huffed. “Of course I know that.” She hadn’t meant to sound harsh and softened her tone. “I’m Stephanie Mars. And thank you so much. For saving me.” She pushed herself straighter, every muscle groaning with the effort. A pain shot through the side of her head once she managed to sit up. “Oh, man. Ow.” The man appeared at her side, kneeling on the floor in front of the worn, but comfortable couch. She held back a gasp of surprise at his quick movement, as well as the discovery that he was even sexier up close. His hair fell in streaked caramel waves to brush below his shoulders, and his brown knit pullover fit tight enough to define admirable muscles. “You hit your head,” he said. “There’s a nasty bump on this side.” Her hand brushed his when they both reached for the spot, and though his hand was chilled, she felt a warm tingle shoot through her. She pulled the quilts higher, and after what seemed an endless moment with their eyes locked he cleared his throat and dropped his hand. Hers went up to feel a tender lump on the right side of her head. She winced, and when she withdrew her hand it was speckled with dark red. Thomas went rigid for a moment. Then he all but launched himself away from her to stand back near the fireplace. She arched a brow. “You’re squeamish about blood?” He faced away from her, leaning against the mantel. “You could say that.” He flicked a measuring gaze her way. “You weren’t bleeding when I found you. The ice water must have staunched the flow.” “Sorry. Guess I should probably check out the damage. Is there a bathroom?” He nodded to a door on her right, beside an archway leading to what appeared to be a kitchen. She glanced over at her clothes. “Any chance my things are dry yet?”

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After a brief hesitation, he scooped up her clothes and carried them to her. “Wow,” she said, squeezing her thick pink sweater with her nonbloody hand. “This is bone dry. How long was I knocked out?” “About six hours.” She gasped. “What?” Stephanie swung her feet off the couch and onto the floor. She pushed all but the bottom quilt aside, which she pulled tight around her for cover while she struggled to stand up. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” “I’m fine.” She stuffed her gloves into her coat and clutched her sweater, pants, and socks against her while she tried twice to convince sore muscles and a dizzy head that she needed to stand. She finally sighed and held a hand out to him. “Maybe a little help?” He pulled her to her feet, and she stood still for a moment, trying to ignore the spinning room and woodsy, pure male smell of him. “Thanks,” she mumbled, then moved away. Her knee hitched as soon as she put weight on her left leg, however, and she yelped. “Damn.” “What’s wrong with your leg?” “Nothing. I’m fine.” Her gait became more of a hobbled limp as she staggered to the bathroom door. She sagged against it to wait for a round of nauseating dizziness to subside. “Are you sure about that?” “I have to get back,” she said, closing her eyes to stop the room from spinning. “Marcie and Pops will be worried sick.” His gaze narrowed. “There were others with you?” “Of course. The three of us always go to the peak together to…” She trailed off with a groan as pieces of memory broke through her daze. “No, wait. That’s not right. Shit, I must have hit my head hard.” Tears tried to come, but couldn’t quite penetrate the thick fog clouding her thoughts. “So there’s no one waiting,” Thomas said.

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She shook her head and swallowed the wave of nausea the motion brought. “I forgot for a moment. Dad died just over a year ago.” The memory reminded her of those first mornings after the fatal heart attack, when she would wake up without the pang of loss for a few blissful moments. Then she’d remember he was gone. “Maybe you shouldn’t be alone in the bathroom,” he said. She wrinkled her nose. “Thanks, but if there’s one place I insist on being alone, it’s in the bathroom. I’ll try to make a lot of noise if I decide to pass out.” He started to argue, but she pushed her way inside and shut the door behind her. There was no lock. “Figures,” she whispered. A scary stranger stared at her from the medicine cabinet mirror in a pine bathroom as dated as the main room of the cabin. Her green eyes looked frightened, exhausted. Damp, straw-colored hair hung limp and tangled to her collarbone. Blood was matted on the right side, where the egg she’d sprouted rested high on her skull. Her chin was scraped, and a bruise purpled her left cheekbone. What a prize her gorgeous rescuer had collected in return for his heroism. With a nervous glance at the door first, she shed the quilt to examine the rest of her body and shivered while she stood barefoot on the cold wood floor. The mirror was too small for much of a view and her head was pounding at her to sit down, so she lifted the lid of the commode and tugged down the pink panties Thomas had thankfully left on her. She did her business while checking the rest of herself as best as she could. Her knee was scraped and puffy, and she had to stick it out straight while she squatted on the commode because bending it hurt. Most of her right hip was discolored a nasty reddishpurple, and both legs were covered in scratches and bruises. Still, nothing seemed broken. She pulled on her fluffy sweater, and the thought of Thomas peeling it off brought a stab of regret that she hadn’t bothered with a bra for once. Her black snow pants were torn in a couple spots, and while putting them back on she remembered bits of the accident.

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After the brilliant move of flinging her father’s star half over the cliff, she’d managed to go over the edge herself. Sheer genius. She’d lost the star forever—and almost her life along with it. If Thomas hadn’t pulled her out of the fast-moving, frigid water… A knock startled her from visions of the worst-case scenario. His voice came muffled through the door. “Stephanie?” Her eyes widened. “I’m fine. Don’t come in.” She dragged herself to a stand and flushed, then hobbled to the medicine cabinet. Inside she found hydrogen peroxide and a hairbrush. She doused a nearby washcloth with the liquid, then sucked in a deep breath for courage and dabbed it against her head. “Ow! Crap, that’s cold—and it stings.” The burn as the peroxide bubbled in the wound brought tears to her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and cleaned the area as best as she could. She probably needed stitches, but this was better than nothing. Afterward she cleaned the blood out of her hair and ran the hairbrush through it, mostly on the uninjured side and in back. Eventually she realized the mirror was not going to stop shouting “accident victim” and gave up. Thomas was stoking the fire and scowling when she came out, still clutching the quilt. The main room was much warmer than the bathroom, but the fire had died way down and the temperature was declining along with it. “Fire’s going out?” she asked. A drop-dead sexy aquamarine gaze raked over her in an appraising manner that sent a tingle through her. Then Thomas went back to jabbing logs with an iron poker. “I’m having trouble keeping it lit,” he said. “The fresh pine I chopped up is too wet.” She frowned. “You can’t burn freshly chopped wood.” “There wasn’t any choice. You were freezing, and I didn’t have any on hand.”

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Her head was still spinning, so she limped back to the couch and eased onto it. “How can you live in a cabin during winter and have no firewood?” He shrugged. “I don’t get cold easy.” “Apparently not.” She resisted the urge to curl up under the rest of the quilts still piled on the couch and go to sleep. “Thank you for going to all this trouble for me. I should get out of your hair and try to head back, pack up the truck.” Thomas laughed. “Hike three miles in this weather with those injuries and then drive home?” He shot her a glance that warmed her stomach. “You must be in a big hurry to get away from me.” “I’m not. I just left my stuff when I fell down the hill and…wait.” His words sank in, and she gaped at him. “I came three miles downstream?” He gave up on prodding the fire that had died down to embers and leaned the poker against the hearth. “No. I grabbed you about a halfmile from Stanton Peak.” “Why drive me back here, then? Why not to a hospital?” “I don’t have a car.” Her eyes goggled. “Don’t tell me you carried me two and a half miles dripping wet through the snow?” He shrugged. “Like I said, I can tolerate cold.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Who are you, Superman?” She sat back against the couch, stunned. “Now I feel really horrible. I can’t believe you went through all that for me. Saying ‘thank you’ just seems so lame.” “It’s no problem.” She stared at him for a moment until the electric sizzle of his gaze interrupted her amazement at the details of her rescue. She glanced away to ease the heat pooling in her abdomen. “Yes, it is.” “I could put you back in the river if it would make you feel better.”

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Stephanie blinked at the teasing tone. His smile set loose the butterflies in her stomach, along with untamed fantasies of him stripping them out of their wet clothes, then deciding the only way to save her was to press his naked body against hers for warmth. Her cheeks flamed when his intense stare seemed to read her thoughts. She had to get out of here before she did something stupid, like offer her gratitude in a less than ladylike fashion. She swallowed. “Can I use your phone? I can call my sister and ask her to come get me.” Not that she wanted to freak Marcie out with her near-death holiday story. Her sister had warned her not to come. “I don’t have a phone.” Her jaw dropped. “What? How can you not have a phone?” “I don’t need one.” She bit back the obvious statement that he could use one right about now when she remembered. “I have one.” When an attempt to spring up off the couch shot pain in varying directions, she eased back and pointed to her parka on the floor. “In there.” He raised a brow, but said nothing. He brought the jacket and stood over her while she dug through it. Though her other things were long past dry, the heavy coat was still quite damp. She dug through deep front pockets and felt a surge of encouragement when her hand closed around her cell phone. Her happiness was short-lived, however, since the screen was blank. Pressing the power button had no effect. “Great,” she said with a sigh. “It got wet.” She tucked it back into the jacket pocket and looked up at the man still looming over her. “I guess there’s no choice. I have to get back to my truck. After all you’ve done I can’t impose on you to go with me, but if you could just point the way it would be a big help. I have no idea where we are.” His gaze narrowed. “You can’t leave.” If the words hadn’t come out sounding sinister, his tone added a definite dark, foreboding edge.

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“I have to,” she said, shrinking back into the couch a bit. She couldn’t keep a touch of pleading from her voice. “I left my truck and gear out there. They could get stolen or damaged, or someone may find them and launch a search for me.” In light of the turn the conversation had taken, this seemed like a smart angle to play up. “People will worry about me if I don’t check in.” “People like your dead father?” Her stomach twisted at his flat tone. “I was confused when I first came to. No need to say something so hurtful about it.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean it to be hurtful.” She glared at him. “I meant people like my sister, my nosy landlady, and my employer, all of whom will get freaked out in that exact order when they realize I’m gone.” Powerful arms folded across his chest. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing you can do about it right now.” Fear pulsed hard against her throat. “You can’t keep me here.” “I’m not keeping you.” He stalked to the front door, grabbing a flashlight off an adjacent table on the way. He flung open the door and clicked on the light. “You want to go out in that?” She blinked at the furious snowfall visible in the beam of light just off the porch, white gusts flying sideways against the black of night. A determined blast of frozen air swept in, and she grabbed a quilt to wrap around her. He shut the door. “The storm is here,” she said. “And not expected to let up tonight,” he added. “Maybe not tomorrow, either.” Well, that changed things. “I forgot about that. Guess I get a little one-track-minded.” She added a guilty grin for good measure. “Sorry I’ve been such a pain.” Upset as she was she couldn’t get to her truck, at least this explanation ruled out the fear that Thomas was a crazed psycho trying to hold her captive. Although, the thought of him holding her at all lit a happy little fire in the pit of her stomach.

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He gripped the door handle a bit tighter, his mixed expression both disturbing and arousing her. “I’ll be back,” he said. “What, I can’t go out in that, but you can?” The door tugged open with a pop and creak. “We’ll need more firewood to get you through the night.” She stared at the door he closed behind him. What was he, some survivalist madman? He hadn’t even taken a coat. Or gloves. Or a hat. As much as the temperature had dropped in the brief moments the door had been open, she couldn’t imagine being out in it without proper outerwear. Despite her alarm at this, the day’s toll dropped on her like a sudden, heavy curtain. She settled back on the couch, pulling more blankets over her. It felt good to lie down, with the cushions cradling her throbbing body and pounding head. Now that Thomas had mentioned the weather, she could hear the wind moaning and the wood cabin creaking in reply. Though it should sound foreboding, she found the noise oddly lulling. She stared at what little orange glow still remained in the fireplace until her eyes fluttered closed. “Stephanie.” The word crept into the crevices of a deep sleep that did not want to be disrupted. “Mmm.” “Wake up, honey. Stephanie.” The veil of black lifted a bit, and she tried to pry open her eyes. “You called me honey,” she mumbled. “Open your eyes.” When she forced her eyes into slits, they flew wider at the sight of Thomas’s beautifully carved face and intense gaze leaning right over her. Close enough to kiss. Or imagine him lying with her on the couch, his hands moving under the blankets. “Hi,” she managed. His smile tingled through all the parts her little fantasy had roused. “Sorry to wake you.”

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God, he smelled good, as though the winter outdoors and a male cologne model had spawned a love child. “’Sokay. I just dozed off for a minute.” “More like an hour, actually.” She tried to sit up, but he put his hand against her to hold her down. His touch seemed to burn fire into her through the thick blankets. “Don’t get up. Go back to sleep.” Stephanie fought off the urge to press her lips against the irresistible curve of his mouth. “You woke me up to tell me to go back to sleep?” “I remembered that with a head injury, I should wake you periodically during the night.” “Oh.” She settled back, unhappy that her eyes were so quick to shut out the gorgeous man looming invitingly over her. “Okay.” “Sleep well. I’ll wake you again in a little while.” She felt the cool press of his lips to her forehead, and she sighed. “That’s not a very good incentive for me to want to sleep,” she said, and she heard a sexy little laugh from the back of his throat just as sleep claimed her against her will.

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Chapter Three Groggy eyelids fluttered, and Stephanie was not particularly grateful for the return of consciousness. Her head pounded in fury and the rest of her fared little better. Her body felt battered, as though she’d been in a wrestling match. Which she had been, of course. A wrestling match with a hillside and a raging creek. There was one thing to be glad about, however, which was why a smile breached her lips despite her litany of aches and pains. Thomas had wakened her with his soothing tenor several times during the night. He hadn’t kissed her again, though she’d badly wanted him to. But he stroked her hair on the uninjured side, stoking a flame inside her hotter than the one he kept going in the fireplace. Now she felt warm and safe, snug with heat radiating under her quilts. She would have been perfectly content to stay that way all day, were it not for the fierce growl her stomach unleashed. Little wonder. She hadn’t eaten since early yesterday. Thomas was nowhere to be seen when she glanced around the cabin. Light glowing through a dark green curtain beside the door confirmed that daylight had arrived. The cot against the far wall appeared not to have been slept in, or perhaps he had taken the time to make it neatly upon waking. The bathroom door was closed, but she heard no sound from inside. The fireplace had died down again to a few embers. Perhaps he’d gone after more firewood. Though her body was stiff and pain seeped from every pore, she struggled to her feet with a groan and hobbled to the bathroom. A timid knock went unanswered. “Thomas?”

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When no reply came, she pushed open the door to find the bathroom empty. After relieving herself, she returned to the medicine cabinet to use the hairbrush. No aspirin, but there was toothpaste. She squeezed some onto her finger to do the job as best she could and grimaced at the icy stream of water coming from the faucet. At least the plumbing wasn’t frozen, which seemed miraculous for a simple cabin in the midst of a blizzard. Thomas must wrap or heat his pipes. Her next stop was the kitchen, with its pine cabinets and a matching dining table. She blinked in surprise at how clean it was. She’d learned from the guys she’d dated that most bachelor kitchens were a force to be reckoned with. Here, every surface was neat. No dishes were piled in the sink. She limped to an antiquated yet humming fridge and pulled it open. It was completely empty. She frowned, then turned to the walnut-stained cabinets and began tugging them open with her muscles protesting every move. Old Mother Hubbard was better stocked than this guy. There was nary a cracker to be found, and the man owned almost no silverware or crockery of any kind. There wasn’t even a microwave. Had he just moved in? Finally she pulled open a cupboard near the cast iron sink and saw evidence that a man lived here. Inside she found a bottle of Jack Daniels and a crystal decanter of what smelled like brandy. Great. Thomas drank his breakfast. She knew he seemed too good to be true. As tempting as it would be to follow suit and ease the aching in her joints, considering her fuzzy head and empty stomach she’d probably pass out if she tried. “You’re awake.” She whirled to see Thomas leaning against the doorway, his glassblue eyes regarding her with interest. He had showered and shaved, and his wavy hair shone delectably while snug black denims and a white knit shirt hugged every muscled inch of him.

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“You keep saying that,” she said, glancing at the bottle in her hand. Guilt shot through her until she remembered she wasn’t the one who apparently lived on eighty-proof. She held up the bottle. “I’m not being nosy, I swear. I was just looking for something to eat. I’m starved.” Now it was his turn for a guilty look. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting company.” “Don’t you eat?” He walked toward her. “I hunt for what I need.” She set the bottle down and leaned on the counter behind her to take weight off her throbbing knee. “How do you prepare what you catch? There’s nothing to cook with in here.” “I usually eat outdoors.” Ah. So he was a super mountain survivalist, after all. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any bacon and eggs sizzling out there?” He shook his head. “It’s still snowing pretty good. Not an animal in sight.” “Don’t you stock up ahead for when the weather turns?” He shot her a look, and she flinched. She didn’t mean to sound so critical and ungrateful. He’d saved her, after all. But apparently, a concussion and starvation did not make a good combination when it came to exhibiting social grace. “I had a carcass hanging outside, actually,” he said. “Something must have grabbed it.” He sounded genuinely remorseful. “Sorry. It’s just my idiot stomach talking.” She started toward him, but the sore knee faltered. With all the grace of a giraffe on roller skates, she stumbled into the wood table and chairs. Thomas was there in an instant to bear her up. “You keep saving me.” Her voice sounded breathless, but not because she’d nearly taken a header over the table. “You keep needing me to save you.” His eyes glittered with something possessive when she gripped his wide, muscled shoulders and extricated herself from the wooden

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chair. They were pressed close together, his arms circling her. She left her hands in place and gazed up at him, and he leaned his face closer. Her heart skipped. When he wavered, a sudden fit of insanity overtook her. She stretched up to close the gap and pressed her lips to his. The sensation was immediate and powerful, and a little sigh escaped the back of her throat. She knew she was being rash and brazen, but she was helpless to stop herself. Thomas stiffened for a moment, and then his hands slid over her back and his mouth claimed hers with fierce hunger. She heard him growl, a sound that tightened her stomach with need. His tongue probed along her lips first, and she opened to let him slide it inside her mouth. She danced her tongue along his, delighting in the way the motion shot tingles of desire between her dampening thighs. Thomas pressed the hard length of an obvious erection against her pelvis, but when her hand slid past his waist toward it he broke off the kiss. He still clutched her to him, his breathing as uneven as her own. Still, his eyes were clouded with uncertainty. “You smell woodsy,” she breathed. “Like pine and campfire.” He leaned down to her again. “You smell like…” His nose nuzzled her as he trailed off, and she felt his fingers dig hard into her upper arms. His voice quivered when he finished the thought. “You smell like blood.” He pulled away and took several steps back. Her emotions churned at this sudden abandonment, and embarrassment flooded her cheeks with heat. “I’m sorry. I forgot you’re squeamish.” She gripped the chair back. “I’d better go shower.” And then never come out. She pushed past him as fast as she could limp. “Hey,” he said when she got to the doorway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” She didn’t trust herself to look at him. “For the record, I do bathe every month whether I need it or not. Turns out today’s your lucky day.” “You aren’t steady enough to shower alone.”

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Her laugh sounded thick and sardonic. “I’ll manage.” “If you need help—” “I don’t.” After shedding her clothes in the bathroom, a hot flush of shame kept her warm while she turned on the shower. A gorgeous, erotically charged man had wanted her enough to kiss her, or rather, to get an erection for her when she’d kissed him. Then she’d ruined the moment by smelling bad. God, what she wouldn’t give for a back door in the bathroom so she could slink out and never look back. While she considered the best plan for climbing into the tub shower with a bum knee, she realized help would be nice after all. Images of being washed by Thomas and returning the favor by running her soapy hands over his hard, toned flesh kept her wet and aroused. Still, there was no way she would be calling him in. If she ever came out of here again she wasn’t sure she could look him in the eye, and she damn sure wasn’t going to try and find out until she smelled a whole lot better. She leaned against the wall and grasped the shower head to bear some of her weight, then stepped in fast with her good leg first. Steam caressed her like heaven, and the hot water felt great despite the stinging along her cuts and scrapes. The soap smelled like lemon and spice. Like Thomas. She smiled as she lathered herself all over with it. Her hair was the bigger challenge thanks to the head wound, and she massaged his shampoo into the good side first, then very gingerly around the painful bump. The swelling had gone down some, and her dizziness had improved a bit. No doubt some of her current lightheadedness was due to an empty stomach, anyway. She blocked most of the spray of water with her hand so just a gentle trickle rinsed suds from the injured area, and for her last trick she grabbed the panties she’d flung over the shower rod and washed them out. She wasn’t keen on going commando, but second day undies were out of the question. It was bad enough she had to wear the same clothes, but she

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couldn’t put Thomas out even more by asking to borrow his. She’d been enough trouble. Besides, she’d have to leave sooner rather than later, considering his entire lack of food. She could change at home and trash her torn snow pants. Once she’d toweled off it was time to navigate back over the tub, only this time while slippery. She wrapped a towel around herself tight before repeating her earlier procedure. When she was halfway out, her hand slipped along the steam-slicked wall she was bracing against. She stumbled onto the sore knee, cried out and lunged for the sink. A wayward hand crashed into the medicine cabinet. She heard the bathroom door bang open behind her. “What happened?” “Nothing,” she said, glancing into the mirror. She couldn’t see him there, just her own embarrassed, stringy-haired reflection. “Just my trademark grace in action.” She struggled for a moment to push upright, still looking at the mirror. He’d thankfully stayed out of sight in the hallway, no doubt to spare her modesty. Good thing she’d put on a towel before executing this embarrassing maneuver. When she felt his hands close around her arms, she jerked upright with a gasp. She stared in the mirror, confused when she saw only her own reflection. When she twisted around, however, he was right behind her. After another whip of her head to confirm the anomaly, she saw him glance at the mirror. Then he let go of her and stepped back, his expression grim. Several odd facts about Thomas registered. She could not see him in a mirror. He had no firewood and no food in his home. He was impervious to cold and had carried her for miles dripping wet through the snow. These facts added up to something preposterous. Something that made her very much wish she hadn’t been so obvious just now about noticing he cast no reflection.

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Or did he? Maybe her concussed brain was distorting facts again, like when she’d thought Pops was still alive. If not, however, then a vampire had her cornered half-naked in his lair right now. Could it be true? Maybe she could play this off, make him think she hadn’t figured it out. She could buy time to get dressed and sneak out the front door at the first opportunity. Once again she found herself wishing for a bathroom back door, though her boots and parka were out by the couch. Escaping into the snow without those wouldn’t get her far. “Stephanie,” he said. “I can explain. “I’m fine, really.” She pasted on a smile. “Since I’m not decent, though, I’d appreciate it if I could get dressed.” “But we should...” She cut him off. “Now, please. I’d like to be less naked the next time you have to save me.” And why did he keep saving her, anyhow? If he was what she suspected, shouldn’t he be trying to hasten her demise, not prevent it? His gaze narrowed. “We need to…” She laughed loudly, kicking herself for the phony edge she heard in it. “We need to let me get dressed before I freeze.” Her visible shaking lent weight to the claim, and she made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go on.” He stared at her with a dark, unreadable expression, and for a moment she thought he’d lunge for her. She pictured him tearing away her towel and clutching her naked body against him while biting her throat. She swallowed hard. Then he backed off. “Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry.” When the door closed behind him she couldn’t move, couldn’t stop staring at it. Like any moment he’d burst back in, eyes glowing and saliva dripping from long, yellow fangs. Then he’d finish the job the creek had started on her last night. “Come on,” she whispered to herself. “Get it together.”

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Still, beyond the obvious fact she didn’t believe in vampires, one other item didn’t add up. Why did Thomas hate blood so much if he was a vampire? Maybe he was the world’s first vampire to be allergic to blood or something. Of course, that didn’t seem to be the way her luck was running these days. God, was she seriously entertaining the thought that he was undead? More likely her injured brain was conjuring up tricks. Maybe she didn’t need to hurry up and escape in order to avoid having her blood sucked. Maybe she needed to hurry and get a brain scan before her head dreamed up any more wild delusions. She was shaking so hard she could barely pull her sweater over her head. She kept the towel wrapped around her until the last possible second, tugging her pants on underneath. Only after she’d pulled them up over her naked ass did she strip off the towel and smooth down her sweater. A glance in the mirror showed her a woman who was pale, bedraggled, and scared out of her wits. She sought out Thomas’s brush one more time to deal with shower tangles, and then stared at her reflection for a while. She knew she couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. The longer she did, the more suspicious he’d become. Stephanie walked out of the bathroom with as little limp as she could muster, thankful when a flood of adrenaline aided the cause. She wanted to give the impression she was less helpless and pathetic than the picture she’d painted thus far. Thomas stood by a newly stoked fire, and she ignored his searing gaze while she headed for the couch. Her socks, boots, and parka lay nearby, tempting her. Donning the latter now would be too obvious, however. She’d have to make a grab for the coat on her way out. “Brr,” she said, making a show of rubbing her arms. “Cold after that shower.” She sat on the couch and pulled a quilt around her shoulders to give the appearance of settling in while she tugged on her socks and footwear. “But hopefully I smell better now.” “Stephanie.”

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She went on ignoring him and laced her boots tight. “Stephanie.” He moved toward her. “Hmm?” She threw him a quick glance and a smile, refusing to meet his eyes. Then he knelt in front of her and took hold of her chin so she couldn’t look away. His eyes searched hers. “I know what you’re thinking.” “What I’m thinking?” She tried to keep an innocent tone. “I don’t know what you mean.” His arched brow told her he knew she was lying. “You think I’m a vampire.” She laughed. “Vampires don’t exist.” Please, God, let him laugh along. Her smile faded when he didn’t. “So, it’s true then?” He glanced away, his lack of response providing all the answer she needed and didn’t want. She shook her head. “Guess I didn’t do a convincing job pretending I didn’t know.” “We can sense those who see us for what we are. It’s a built-in survival trait.” “Handy skill.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to figure this out.” She rubbed her arms again, this time against a true chill. “You’re a vampire. That just figures.” “What does?” She raised her arms. “Oh, just the old Stephanie Mars luck. I go for a simple outing and get dragged off by a raging creek. I meet the perfect guy, and he turns out to be an undead monster. No offense.” His brow rose. “You think I’m the perfect guy?” She shrugged. “What I think is that none of this is really happening. Maybe I bashed my skull so hard that this conversation is all going on in my head while I’m lying unconscious in a hospital somewhere. So yeah, if I have to be stuck in a concussive hallucination, why not include the perfect guy?”

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A smile lit his dark expression out of nowhere and threatened to steal her breath. When white teeth flashed, she couldn’t help but look for sharp points. She saw none, and the smile vanished as fast as it had appeared. “So what if it turns out this isn’t a hallucination?” he said. “What if your so-called perfect guy is real, and he’s a vampire?” Smiling or not, this man unhinged her. His penetrating stare did dangerous things to her insides. Did he have to be so damned gorgeous? It was hard to stay in a state of terrified alert with his pheromones disrupting her instinct to run away. On the contrary, she was fighting off images of his naked body sliding over hers while he claimed her. “Well,” she said, “I suppose that would complicate things a bit.” “It doesn’t have to.” He sighed. “I never meant for you to know. I just planned to bring you here long enough to warm up and recover your strength.” He glanced around at the cabin and heaved a sigh. “I’ll admit I’m going to miss this place.” She frowned at the sudden change of subject. “What do you mean?” “I can’t stay here now. I’ll have to move on. It’s just a winter home, anyway.” Still, his expression as he glanced around said otherwise. “But why do you have to move?” He snorted. “You know the truth. I can’t very well sit around and wait for the angry mob with torches and pitchforks to show up.” She shifted away from him a bit. “Don’t you mean torches and stakes?” The hard look he shot her sent a stab of guilt through her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But that won’t happen. I won’t tell anyone.” The words surprised her. Did she mean it, or was her survival instinct kicking back in? Maybe she was just blurting out whatever she thought he wanted to hear. He shook his head. “I can’t risk that.”

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“Like anyone would believe me, especially with a concussion.” “You’d be surprised what people will believe, especially when it is least convenient.” She forced herself to meet his liquid stare. “So you didn’t bring me here to have me for dinner?” Those eyes raked over her in a way that made her feel as though the quilt and her clothing were invisible. “I could have drained you while you were unconscious.” “Maybe you prefer your meals to be awake,” she challenged, wondering why she was baiting him this way. “For better flavor.” The smile he flashed was far from reassuring. “In which case, I have still had plenty of opportunity.” He leaned closer. “Like when you were in my arms in the kitchen.” She shivered at the memory of that kiss and the feel of his hard cock pressing against her. Did an imminent feed create sexual arousal? Or had Thomas truly wanted to make love to her? “Or you could have done so in the bathroom, I guess,” she said. “The moment you sensed I knew the truth.” “We’re not just killing machines.” He glanced away. “Not all of us.” “But you do kill.” He failed to reply, and she decided to stop skating on such thin ice. “You’ve lived here in the cabin a long time, I take it,” she said. “Just during the winter. I move around the rest of the year.” Her eyes took in the cozy, wood paneled room. “What happened to the owner of this place?” His eyes flashed. “He was made into a vampire.” She sucked in a breath. “You killed him?” “I am him.” “Who?” “Thomas Yeltin. I built this place.” Her mouth fell open. “Yeltin? As in Yeltin Creek?” He nodded. “You own half the woods around here.”

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“My family did. For three generations.” She glanced around at the sturdy wood construction of the cabin, the rock fireplace, the furniture. All bore evidence of careful, loving craftsmanship. “You built all this before you were turned.” “Most of it isn’t the original construction. I’ve had to rebuild over the years. Upgrade things.” “How old is this place?” She’d wanted to ask how old he was but couldn’t bring herself to say it. “I was turned in 1871.” His smile held a tinge of darkness. “On my twenty-ninth birthday.” Her jaw fell open. “Did it happen here?” “Right where you are sitting.” She jumped up with a gasp, wobbling when her knee and head joined in a chorus of protest. He reached out and steadied her, his cold hands even more obvious now that she knew the reason for them. “Not on that couch,” he said. “It’s only ten years old.” “Oh. Right.” She glanced at the worn brown fabric, not wanting to mention it looked a good deal older. Thomas, on the other hand, had weathered the years admirably. He had died more than one hundred years before she was born, but he didn’t seem like a throwback to a distant era at all. He looked every bit like a contemporary erotic god, albeit a rugged, outdoorsy one. Hollywood would be happy to get their hooks into the likes of him. Her libido warmed in appreciation of his chiseled features and intense stare. He certainly didn’t look like a vampire, though now that she thought about it, he was a bit pale. So was she at this time of year. He let go of her and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, and she glanced at the couch that marked the spot where his life had ended. “So how did it happen? If you don’t mind telling me.” The smile he shot her was less than kind. “It all started when I rescued a woman I found unconscious in the woods.” She flinched at the implication. “I brought her here, only to find out she wasn’t really unconscious. Nor was she a woman, in the strictest sense.” He shook

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hair out of his eyes. “She found out about my birthday. Said she was going to give me a gift to thank me for helping her.” He tugged aside the high neck of his sweater, showing her two black marks where his neck met his shoulder. “Some gift, huh?” Stephanie balled her hands into fists to fight the urge to reach out and stroke the scars. “I’m sorry, Thomas.” “Ancient history.” “So what happened to her?” She shifted her weight, settling more firmly on her good leg. “The vampire woman.” He folded his arms. “She lived to regret her decision to change me. Briefly.” She shuddered at the cold tinge in his blue eyes. “So I guess finding me unconscious didn’t exactly trigger fond memories for you.” His genuine laugh was unexpected. “It did occur to me that bringing a stranded woman to my cabin hasn’t traditionally gone well for me.” His expression sobered. “I considered leaving you there.” She glanced down at the wooden floor. “Why didn’t you?” “Because while I was busy convincing myself it was a bad idea to save you, I had already pulled you from the creek.” Her chest hitched at the thought of him standing by, watching her drown in the icy water. “I’m grateful you did.” He sighed. “I just wish things had worked out better. I guess it’s true what they say about no good deed going unpunished.” “What do you mean?” “I’d rather not have to move right now.” He blinked. “It’s a bad time for me.” She stepped closer to him, and his eyes widened a fraction. “What can I do to convince you I won’t tell? You saved my life, Thomas. I owe you.” Before he could reply, a thoroughly embarrassing growl from her stomach punctuated the tense silence. She slid a hand over her abdomen. “Wow. It’s got a mind of its own. Sorry about that timing.”

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“Don’t be sorry. You need to eat.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I apologize for that. I tried to go out and hunt for us this morning, but the storm seems to have driven animals deep into their burrows. There hasn’t been food fit for a mouse the past few days, really. I can grab you some fish from the creek, if you’d like.” Her stomach rumbled agreement. “I could definitely use something, but fishing sounds like a lot of time and trouble.” “Time and trouble aren’t issues. I’ll go now.” He paused and stared at her. “You’ll be here when I get back, right? The storm has let up some, but you don’t seem in good enough shape to make it far.” “I’ll be here.” To prove her point, she settled back on the couch. He nodded and headed for the door, this time grabbing a thick wool coat on his way out. She suspected he did so more for her sake, but what did she know? An hour ago she’d have sworn there was no such thing as vampires. Stephanie looked around the simple wood cabin with fresh eyes. A vampire lived here. Who would guess a quaint homestead with braided rugs and a warm hearth housed an undead demon who crafted his own wood furniture before sucking the blood of…what? Who? She wandered to the window and pushed aside the curtain. The day outside was bleak, and snow still fell at a good clip. Trees were heavily laden with glistening ice against the dark gray backdrop. She considered the sky and thought of Thomas. Could he venture outside on a normal day, or would the sun burn him to a crisp? Soon after, a figure appeared through the nearby trees. She caught her breath. Thomas had only been gone fifteen minutes, but was already returning bearing some sort of long stick with fish speared onto it. The thought chilled her, and she tried not to think about what kind of hunter he made when in search of larger game. Like the kind who walked on two legs. She closed the curtain and heard him stamp his hiking boots on the porch before the door squeaked open. “That was fast,” she said as he strolled in with his catch.

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“I hope you know how to clean fish,” he said. “It’s been a century or so since I’ve had to.” The fish lacked a strong aroma, and she wondered whether it was because they were so fresh, or whether the chill air had already frozen them. “It’ll be harder without any utensils,” she said, though at this point she was almost too hungry to care. She gasped when he reached into a boot and withdrew a knife with a wicked looking serrated blade. “I think we’ll manage.”

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Chapter Four There was truly no meal more delectable than one eaten when food was scarce, and Stephanie reveled in the feel of a warm, full belly while she sat on the couch by the fire. Despite the lack of kitchen accouterments and Thomas’s self-proclaimed inexperience with meal preparation, she’d been impressed by the way he helped her fillet the fish, and then douse it with a liberal shot of brandy before baking it to perfection in his oven’s broiler pan. Afternoon was fleeing fast, and snow still fell outside. She thought about her truck and belongings, which by now would be well buried. Thomas had been out twice to shovel snow away from the cabin, creating berms several feet away. He said he wanted to keep a clear path and make it easier to warm the cabin, but she wondered whether he really wanted to keep prying eyes at bay. Not that there seemed to be any around here. Or maybe he was just trying to keep himself busy so he wouldn’t be tempted to sample her neck. When had he last eaten? But if he was telling the truth about heating the cabin, then his actions were mainly for her sake. She couldn’t understand why he was going so far out of his way to be kind to her, especially if he believed she was a threat. He came out of the kitchen, the sleeves of his white knit pullover pushed up to the elbow to reveal sinewy, pleasantly masculine forearms. In each hand he bore a highball glass filled with brandy. She lifted a brow. “I didn’t know you owned glassware.” “You didn’t look far enough back in the alcohol cabinet,” he said. “I don’t generally slug my booze straight out of the bottle.” He handed a glass to her. “Thank you.”

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Now that she’d eaten her fill, a little something to wet her whistle sounded appealing. For the first time since she’d arrived, Thomas pushed aside the quilts folded on the couch and sat beside her. The brandy tingled on her tongue and sent heat all the way down her throat, but with him seated so near she didn’t need a shot of alcohol to warm her insides. They sat together in awkward silence punctuated only by the insistent crackling and popping of green wood in the fireplace. Finally, Thomas seemed to recover the ability to speak. “Can I ask you something?” She twisted her body toward him, her good knee putting a little distance between them. “Sure.” “What were you doing alone in the snow at Stanton Peak, and what happened up there?” Another sip of brandy slid down easier, and she swirled the remaining fluid in her glass. “Dad used to bring my sister and me to the peak every year for a holiday camp out. We decorated a pine tree, sang carols and recited verses, lit candles, ate latkes and drank hot chocolate until we were sick.” She smiled at the memory. “When he died last year, Marcie and I went to honor him. This year…” she sighed. “What?” “I guess Marcie doesn’t need tradition anymore. But I do, so I went by myself. I wanted a piece of our history to live on, so Dad wouldn’t be quite so gone.” She glanced at him. “I suppose that sounds stupid to you.” Her shoulders hunched, and she stiffened when Thomas reached out to push back a strand of her wispy hair. “Not at all. It’s not easy to lose those you care about.” She heard echoes of past sorrow in the words and regretted her insensitivity. No doubt he’d experienced much loss over the years. She raised her head to meet his fire-and-ice blue eyes. His hair

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shimmered with mesmerizing highlights courtesy of the firelight, and her stomach somersaulted when he continued to stroke her hair. “Anyway,” she went on, “I slipped on the edge of the cliff and fell.” His hand froze. “I tumbled all the way down until I hit the creek, and the rest of what could have been a much uglier story you already know.” She downed another swig of brandy, too much this time. The large gulp burned enough on the way down to trigger a coughing fit. He pulled his hand back. “Are you okay?” She nodded, her body softening into the effects of the drink even if Thomas’s proximity made the task of feeling relaxed difficult. Between flashes of what might have become of her and thoughts of what she wanted to do with Thomas right now to remind herself she had survived, she decided to veer off the subject of her accident. “This is a nice cabin,” she said, trying to ignore the way his eyes turned her insides to warm honey. “Very homey. And normal, if you don’t mind my putting it that way. Not the kind of place I’d expect a…well, someone like you to live in.” A twist of a smile warmed his expression. “That is somewhat deliberate. I wanted the cabin to keep a more normal appearance in case people come along. And they do, on occasion.” “Like having a kitchen you don’t use?” “I do use it, once in a while. The icebox can be handy. Granted, I’ve upgraded quite a bit for appearances.” “You forgot to include dishes and food, for that truly authentic touch.” He shot her a wry grin. “True, but most guests don’t poke around inside my cupboards.” She grunted. “Point taken.” She paused. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded. “You would really rather move than just silence me?”

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He eyed her, and the folly of her question hung between them. Obviously the alcohol was loosening her tongue farther than it should. When he didn’t answer, she changed the subject. “You only live here during the winter?” The shift in his mood was palpable. “Yes. I come here when it gets too hard.” “Too hard to do what?” His eyes pierced her with fire. “To resist.” “Oh.” She tried to suppress a shudder while the bottom of her stomach seemed to drop out. “So I take it now is one of those times?” He held her gaze. “Winters are hardest for me.” She clutched her glass tighter, wishing she could scoot away from him on the couch without looking obvious. “Why?” “It’s when I was turned. The anniversary of our passing seems to stir primal urges among my kind.” He snarled his lip. “Some see it as something to embrace and celebrate. Others flee from it.” “Others like you.” He nodded. “Damn. So holidays bite for you, too.” The irony of the words hit and she hid her embarrassment by taking another slug of brandy. She tried to swallow, but the lump in her throat prevented it. Not sure she wanted to know the answer, she ventured, “And just how successful are you at fleeing your celebratory cravings?” He glanced away. “I am usually successful.” “Usually.” She repeated the word slowly. “As in sometimes not.” Thomas folded his arms across his broad chest. “I’ve been around for well over a century, Stephanie. In your twenty years of living, haven’t you ever made any mistakes?” “Twenty-six,” she said, lifting her chin. “And no, I can’t count murder among my many mistakes.”

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His eyes glittered with warning. “If your survival depended on it, you might not be able to make that claim. Even human law allows for killing under certain circumstances.” She snorted. “Yeah, but ‘Sorry, but he tasted good with a light Chianti,’ doesn’t fit in that category.” “What about the Donner party?” “You had to go back more than one hundred and fifty years for an example,” she said. “Just one of many.” “I’m not going to debate cannibalism in life or death situations,” she said. “A being with supernatural abilities, which is what I presume you have, is certainly evolved enough to find options besides killing.” “We all kill, Stephanie, whether it be plants or animals to eat, or an insect unlucky enough to make a human’s arm their perch. You didn’t think twice about tearing into the fish you gutted in my kitchen.” “That’s different.” He lifted a brow “Is it? The circle of life is nothing more than a food chain. Pretending humans aren’t part of that circle is ridiculously naïve.” Her stomach churned with a mixture of fear and anger. Hearing him justify eating humans was hardly reassuring her she would not be next. “If you believe that, why do you run away from your own instinct to be on top of that food chain?” He turned away and stared at the fire. “Killing humans openly draws unwanted attention. It is a risk.” She folded her arms. “So you resist to avoid being killed off yourself. How noble. Is that the only reason?” There was a pause. “No.” “So you do place some value on human life, then.” He whirled around, regarding her with those unsettling crystal blue eyes. “I place some value on all life.”

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Stephanie wasn’t certain whether they’d just come full circle in this conversation or not. With a bit of resistance from her knee and sore hip, she got to her feet. Dizziness returned, but she stood her ground and waited for it to pass. She was hyper-aware of his presence, of how he watched her every move with unnervingly rapt attention. She searched his gaze, trying not to think about how her insides melted at his intense expression. “I feel like I might be better off taking my chances in the storm right now.” He stood, too, and took a step toward her until they were almost touching. “You shouldn’t try to run from a predator,” he said, his voice low and quiet. Deathly quiet, she thought. “Why not?” His eyes shone with an eerie inner glow. “Because their first instinct would be to chase you.” Her heart skipped a beat. “You wouldn’t chase me.” “What makes you so sure?” She lifted her chin to project an air of false courage. “Because you’d rather move away from the home you built over a century ago than simply kill me to protect your secret.” He leaned toward her, assailing her senses with his heady scent while he brushed his lips against her ear. “On the contrary,” he breathed. “I think I would enjoy chasing you very much.” She jerked her head around so his lips weren’t so maddeningly close to her ear, but the motion put their lips in a more dangerous proximity. “You’re just trying to scare me,” she whispered. “Is it working?” She shivered. “No.” “Good. Maybe that means you trust me enough to do this.” Considering how close their lips were, the kiss shouldn’t have surprised her. Nevertheless, she stiffened in shock when his mouth laid claim to hers. As good as he smelled he tasted even better, like brandy and sin and sex. When he prodded her lips with his tongue,

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she opened for him without a thought. Her head spun with a sensation having little to do with concussion-induced dizziness. His hands slid beneath her sweater, his cold skin blazing a fiery trail upward along her stomach until he found her breasts. She moaned when he rolled both nipples between his fingers. Damp desire spread between her legs. Thomas inundated her every sense, and the only thing she wanted was more. More of his hands. His tongue. His body pressed to hers. As if he’d heard the thought, he picked her up and laid her on the couch, settling himself over her with obvious caution to avoid her injuries. Stephanie had forgotten all about the pain, her need for him was so great. He pushed her sweater up to expose her to his hungry gaze, and a small growl of approval escaped his throat. “God, these breasts.” He lowered his head and trailed kisses around her puckered nipple, and she rolled her eyes back. “The thought of how perfect you are has haunted me since the moment I pulled off your wet clothes.” To prove the point, he pressed his rock-hard erection against her. “I thought you said you didn’t look,” she said, panting with breathless anticipation. “I said I tried not to.” His voice was husky, impatient, and the feel of his breath against her nipple tormented her. “Not that I succeeded.” The flick of his tongue against her hardened bud sent a gasp of delight from her, and she arched up to rub against the tantalizing erection in his jeans. Her body pulsed and throbbed while he sucked each nipple in turn. Every inch of her begged to be claimed by Thomas, ached for the explosive release she knew he could give her. It had been so long since anyone had made love to her, let alone a man so potently sexual. He was dangerously arousing, in more than one sense. Heaven help her, she was ready to come just pressing her pubic bone against the thick bulge in his crotch. She ran her hands along his back under his shirt, feeling the knotted hardness of his muscles before sliding them down to where snug jeans covered his

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tight ass. Her damp palms itched to curl around his shaft while she pulled his backside against her more firmly and wriggled her hips back and forth. “Stephanie,” he growled, and to her chagrin he pushed away. He silenced her whimper of protest with a kiss while he reached between them to undo the zipper of his jeans. Her hands followed his, and she gasped when she found the huge, pulsing erection straining toward her. She gripped the silken flesh, shocked at how warm it was. His whole body seemed to be heating up, in fact. He was literally getting hot for her, a thought that fueled her desire even higher. “Now,” she murmured, and when he met her gaze she found his ice blue eyes had gone dark with longing. “I can’t wait.” A sexy smile twisted his lips, one that prompted her to lick her own. “Now might be easier if your pants weren’t still on,” he said. “Right. Damn.” Thomas laughed at the slight irritation in her voice, and she shot him a mock scowl. He drew back to where she could see his cock, and she licked her lips. He was massive, even more than she realized with him in her hand. She tugged at her ski pants, and Thomas helped while she lifted her hips. The pants slid down over her ass to expose her to the slight chill in the air, but her flesh heated instantly under her lover’s passionate stare. “Your scent is so arousing,” he said, his voice rasping and his eyes closing for a moment. “You’re so ready for me.” Impatient to be rid of the pants and feel him thrusting inside her, she shifted her body to finish shoving her bottoms off. She groaned when she realized her boots were still on. She was trying to kick one off when she managed to scrape the injured side of her head but good against the sofa back. “Ouch!” Her hand flew up to the stinging throb, coming away with blood. “Great. I’m such a klutz.”

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A sudden stillness followed by a low, prolonged growl drew her attention away from the reopened injury on her skull. She glanced up at Thomas and froze. Gone were the blue eyes tinted dark with his passion for her. His eyes had turned red-gold, and every muscle in his body was rigid. More important, a pair of wicked, curved fangs turned his sexy mouth into a fatal threat. She swallowed, almost afraid to breathe. “Thomas?” she whispered. He kept staring, his every breath punctuated by another low growl. Slowly, cautiously, she began to slide herself back. “Stay still.” The words were half-whispered, but no less commanding. Nevertheless, his demand had the opposite effect. She pushed herself up until her bare backside pressed against the arm of the couch and then tugged her sweater down over her breasts. “You don’t want to hurt me,” she said, trying to keep panic out of her voice. His eyes held something cold and not at all Thomas in their depths while he stared at the blood in her hair. “That’s not entirely true at the moment.” “You saved me.” His glowing eyes lowered from her throbbing head, down along her clenched jaw to linger on her throat before dropping to the thatch of dark hair between her thighs. Her pants were near her knees now, and she reached down to tug them back up. In a flash, he caught hold of her wrists. “You know you’re meant to belong to me,” he said. She shook her head. “I don’t belong to anybody but myself.” “No?” He leaned close, inhaling deeply. “You want to belong to me. I smell your desire. Your woman’s scent begs me to take you.”

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The entire cadence of his speech had shifted into something old, primal. She twisted free of his grip. “That’s not desire you smell. It’s fear.” “Yes,” he whispered, his reddish eyes rolling upward when he sniffed again. “So intoxicating.” His hand slipped down, and he pushed his fingers through her patch of curls. The gentle drag of his finger across her wet clit shot a pang of pleasure through her, and she saw his still-erect cock twitch. He ran his tongue along a fang, the sharp point drawing a dot of blood. He drew it back into his mouth and groaned. Her stomach twisted in fright. Would he force himself on her, bury his cock inside her heat and his fangs in her throat? Worse, as much as her body responded to him, would she truly care if he did? A chill washed over her, but it was Thomas who began to quiver. She forced words through parched lips. “You don’t want to do this.” He shut his eyes, a laugh rumbling deeply through him. “You’re wrong about that.” His eyes blazed hot with red-gold fire when he reopened them. He leaned toward her, holding her gaze. “I’ve never wanted anything more. I’m sorry.” Before she could push him away he retreated, reaching for his thick cock. She gasped and made another grab for the waistband of her pants, then blinked in surprise when he tucked his erection back into his jeans and zipped up. She pulled her ski pants back on while he got to his feet and turned away from her. He strode to the fireplace and stood with his hands on the mantle and head dropped forward, his breath coming in ragged gasps while his body shook visibly. “I’m not myself right now,” he said. “Or maybe I’m more myself, more the monster I’m destined to be.” She rose as quietly as she could manage. Her foot nudged the parka still lying on the floor. “I don’t believe that.”

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Why she was defending the animal that wanted to sink its teeth into her neck, she wasn’t certain. Maybe part of her felt she could still get out of this alive if she helped calm Thomas down. “I don’t know what to believe right now.” He flicked a look over his shoulder. “Other than maybe you should clean that injury.” Probably a wise move, except he stood between her and the bathroom. But not between her and the front door. She glanced down at her jacket. “I don’t trust you,” she said. “I have to walk right past you to get there. Go into the kitchen so you won’t be tempted.” He paused, and she thought he would argue. She released a breath when he nodded and moved away. Before he even made it to the kitchen doorway, she quietly snatched up her parka. Once he disappeared into the other room, she shrugged it on and crept to the front door. It would creak when it opened, giving her away, but maybe with distance between them, his clearer head would prevail and he would let her go. Maybe. She gripped the doorknob and held her breath, then tugged the door open and stared in amazement when it made no sound. Still, she only trusted her luck so far. She slipped through as soon as it was barely wide enough, and rather than risk it creaking shut behind her she left it standing open and headed out into the snow.

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Chapter Five Night had not yet fallen, but the late afternoon wind was cold enough to sear Stephanie’s nostrils and lungs with frigid air. She raised the hood on her parka and pulled her gloves from her pocket while she stole around the side of the cabin. The eaves kept most of the snowfall at bay while she edged around corners to the back of Thomas’s home. From there, she struck out through a crunch of snow already ankle-deep since his last shoveling. Her knee throbbed as she step-thunked through a thick white carpet, but she moved with as much speed and stealth as she could manage. She wished she could cover her tracks, but no doubt he could just follow her scent if he decided to come after her. Considering his on-again, off-again hesitancy about feasting on her neck, she hoped he wouldn’t. Navigating was a much tougher prospect beyond the berms he’d shoveled to almost shoulder height. Snow drifts were deep in spots, and one wrong step might strand her for good. But straight ahead, a cluster of woods offered shelter, camouflage, and little snow beneath pine boughs. If she could make her way to the woods, she had a chance. Falling snow stung her eyes and clung to her cheeks while she did her best to navigate to safety through pockets of snow. What she wouldn’t give for a good pair of snowshoes or skis right now. Just a few more feet and things would be easier. Her bad leg stepped into a deep thicket of loose powder, and she pitched forward with a shriek. Snow stuck to her front while her knee pounded with stabbing pain. Tears sprang to her eyes. She wondered whether Thomas had figured out her deceit yet, and what he would do

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about it once he did. Was he right behind her even now, watching her with fiery eyes as she sprawled helpless in the snow? She gasped, but a panicked glance behind showed she was alone, at least so far as she could tell. She straightened herself up and dug out of the pile, then tried to step again. Her sprained knee wouldn’t hold her weight enough to comply. She dug away more snow until she had room to maneuver, her gloves wet and thick with ice that burned her fingers. Then, inspiration struck. She lay down flat on the snow, an image of making snow angels as a little girl flashing to mind. She rolled her body over and over until she reached the edge of the woods, ignoring the pain shooting from every part of her. Standing up proved more of a challenge with her knee hurting worse than ever, but after a few tries she was hobbling weakly into the cover of trees. She sighed in relief, grateful that no snow fell in here and that she could walk with relative ease around the occasional stones and icy white patches dotting the bed of pine needles, wet leaves, and rich brown dirt. Still, her clothes were crusted with white, and she was exhausted and aching from her throbbing head to tingling toes. After several minutes of stumbling around, she realized one of the many flaws in her escape plan. She had no idea where she was. By coming this way, she’d hoped to throw Thomas off track. He’d probably figure she’d go straight out the front door and would be slower to check this direction. Yet had she done so, she could have ducked into the woods she’d seen Thomas carrying fish out of. No doubt those woods led to the water, and following Yeltin Creek would be her best chance of finding her way back to Stanton Peak. She couldn’t climb up the steep cliff there, but at least she would have her bearings. And she knew of cabins and settlements within a mile or so from there. Here, however, she couldn’t even hear the rushing water. How could she be so stupid? Obviously, thinking on the fly during survival situations wasn’t her strong point.

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What now? Her thoughts were already sluggish from the cold. She couldn’t stumble around out here indefinitely. The temperature was dropping, and she was already wet. Her best bet was to find the creek fast. She turned around and backtracked a few minutes, ducking in and out of trees to keep hidden while staying on the lookout for any sign of Thomas. He was nowhere to be seen. If he’d intended to chase her down, he likely would have her by now. The thought encouraged her a bit. She changed direction and headed to the edge of the trees, where she peeked out to find her patch of woods had indeed veered up and away from those spanning the front of his cabin. The distance between them appeared to be maybe fifty yards here and less than half that if she dared venture back to where she’d entered the woods. The snow was discouragingly thick between the two points either way, meaning she’d be rolling herself like a cheap cigar again to traverse it. But better that than wandering around until she froze. She sighted out what appeared to be the shallowest accumulation of snow between the wooded areas and stepped out from the cover of trees. Then a twig snapped behind her, and she spun around with a gasp. The wolf was huge, staring at her with an intensity that reminded her of Thomas. Wolves were common in this territory, and her father taught her long ago that although they were getting a bit too used to humans for comfort, they almost never attacked. A good shout would chase it off. “Hey!” she yelled. “Go on. Get!” The wolf backed up a step, but didn’t run and didn’t take its eyes off her. She swallowed. Then she saw the second wolf coming up from the edge of the tree line. She took a step back, almost falling when her boot sank into a shin-deep drift. “Get out,” she shouted, this time waving her arms. “Shoo. Go away.”

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The closer wolf, its gray and black fur half blending into the dirt surroundings, laid its ears back. She stopped waving, her pulse fluttering wildly in her throat. Wolves didn’t attack people. Well, rarely. She could just back off slowly. Then something Thomas said hit her. There hadn’t been any animals in sight for days. It wasn’t even quite nightfall yet, and these wolves were already out. They were no doubt hungry and desperate, and not having any more luck in hunting than Thomas. Until now at least, when they’d stumbled over an opportunistic kill. To them she wasn’t a dangerous human, but a lone creature dumb enough to be staggering around in a storm while injured and bloody. Weak, easy prey. She tried to clutch her hands into fists, but they were numb and stiff. If she tried to run, she’d fall, and the results wouldn’t be good. Yet the way the animals leered at her now, if she didn’t run they might attack her anyway. As soon as she moved again, the other wolf stalked forward, creeping along with hackles raised and lip snarling. She froze, her eyes shifting rapidly between the two canines. “Oh God,” she whispered, her teeth chattering as much from fear as the cold seeping into every pore as she edged farther out from under the protective cover of the trees. The wild, raw growl that followed scared her into action. She turned to run and stumbled immediately, cursing her unending stupidity as she reached out to stop her fall. The growl became a loud roar of rage, and when she turned the animals leapt at her. She instinctively balled up and covered her head and neck, waiting for the weight of wild dogs to slam into her. When it didn’t happen, she peeked out to see one of the wolves hurled off course in mid-air by a larger animal. Stephanie screamed as the thing wrestled with the beasts, fur and teeth flying. Glowing eyes and rabid growls flashed as the battle churned up piles of freshly fallen snow. Her eyes wide, she scooted

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back through wet powder to get away from the melee. Every nerve ending pounded with adrenaline as the scene before her registered. The other predator was Thomas. He snarled in rage when sharp teeth clamped down on his arm, then he picked up the dog by the throat and twisted. With only a little effort from his powerful arms, a sickening crunch cut off the animal’s yelp of pain. After a final growl from Thomas, the other dog took off and disappeared through the trees. The dead wolf lay in red-stained snow, torn and bent. She stared at the bloody animal, then at the feral man hunched over it. He dropped down and tore into the creature’s neck with his fangs, guttural sounds coming from him as he drank. Her heart pounded, and her stomach lurched with sick dread, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the sight of Thomas feeding. When he rose, there was fiery confusion glowing in his red-gold eyes. Blood dripped from his chin, and his shirt was torn and wet with blood and ice. The two of them stared at one other for a long span of moments, her throat too choked with emotion to speak. “You came after me,” Stephanie managed at last. Thomas didn’t respond. His chest heaved with low, quiet growling noises. “Did you come to help me, or were you on the hunt?” He reached down for a handful of snow, and she grimaced when he used it to scour the blood off his face. “Yes.” “Yes to which?” His eyes, now fading to gold with a tinge of ice blue, found hers. “Both.” She tried to back up, but grabbed her knee with a grimace. In a heartbeat he was beside her. “I told you not to run,” he said. His eyes were back to normal, and his fangs had vanished. “You really have a death wish, don’t you?”

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He picked her up in his arms and headed back to the cabin. Where her steps had been halted and choppy in the deep snow, his strides were long and smooth. “I don’t have a death wish,” she said, pushing at the wet strands of hair that stuck to her face. “I have a stay-alive wish.” He shook his head. “Running injured into a storm after nearly freezing to death doesn’t really support that theory.” “Neither does staying alone in a cabin with a bloodthirsty monster.” She saw muscles tense in his jaw, but he stayed silent and stared straight ahead. “Put me down.” “No.” She grunted in irritation, but soon found herself fascinated by his determined gaze and the finely sculpted angles of his face. Her breath was visible as roiling white clouds, but nothing fogged in front of his nostrils or mouth. He carried her without effort while making the trek through snowdrifts, the way he’d no doubt carried her when he pulled her from the creek. She must be crazy, lying there complacent in the arms of a fierce predator while he toted her like a trophy back to his lair. A predator who admitted he wanted to harm her, though he had saved her life. Twice. Why? So he could do the job himself? The warmth of the cabin enveloped her as soon as they entered, and she wondered why she’d been mad enough to leave it. He deposited her near the fire and turned back to the front door. “Thank you for saving me again,” she said, holding her anesthetized fingers toward the fire. She turned her head to find his expression unreadable. “Whatever your reasons.” He stripped the ruined shirt over his head, and her eyes widened. Her gaze slid over his broad chest and shoulders, down past the taut, rippled abdomen where just a faint line of hair dropped from his navel to disappear into the waist of his jeans. His muscles were pumped

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from the battle and from carrying her, bulging and veined wherever she looked. He yanked open a chest of drawers nearby, and she saw blood from jagged puncture marks where the wolf had torn into his forearm. “You’re hurt,” she said. He wiped the arm with the ruined shirt and dropped it into a garbage can beside the bureau. “I heal fast.” With that, he grabbed a long-sleeved black turtleneck from one of the drawers and pulled it on. Then he headed for the front door and paused. “Wait here.” He studied her face for a moment. “Please.” “Where are you going?” The cabin door closed behind him before she’d finished her sentence. She frowned after it for a moment, debating whether to obey. Was this a test? Or maybe he was truly gullible enough to believe he’d tamed her into submission with his display of animal dominance. She sneered and walked toward the door, wary. Did she prefer to face a monster inside where it was warm and dry, or a monster and wolves out in the bitter snow? With a sigh she turned back and went over to the fire to lean in as close as she dared. Her face was numb, and most of the rest of her body prickled with the tingle of sluggish circulation. The heat felt like heaven, so she shrugged off her wet coat and let it fall to the floor behind her while she rubbed feeling back into her arms and legs. Her pants were soaked, and she wished she had another pair to change into. Her glance fell on the dresser, and she rushed over to pull open drawers. “Yes,” she said, yanking out a pair of his jeans. She felt guilty caving in like this, but she couldn’t sit in wet clothes. His pants would no doubt be big for her, but at least they’d be dry. She hop-limped back to the warm fire to kick off her boots and peel off her wet slacks, realizing she was naked beneath. Her underwear was still in the bathroom, by now hopefully just a bit damp. Good enough.

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She started for the bathroom while fiddling with the button fly of his jeans, but spun around when the front door flew open. Thomas stood in the doorway, appearing stunned by the view of her naked ass he’d just had. She held his jeans against her crotch, willing her heart to stay inside her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d mind me borrowing some pants. Mine are wet again.” He remained rooted in place, icy cold air rushing in to steal the cabin’s warmth. After a moment he blinked and reanimated himself. “It’s fine. Take whatever you need.” He turned away and bent over something out on the porch, and she took advantage of his distraction by hustling into the bathroom to get dressed. His pants dragged on the floor and were a bit loose for her, but they weren’t ripped or wet and they covered her from his rabid gaze. Next she carefully washed traces of blood from her hair again, wishing she hadn’t lost her hat in the river. She’d at least be able to cover up. When she came out again, the strong scent of pine needles found her nostrils. “What are you doing?” He shot her a guilty look. “I brought you something.” She hiked up the waist of her pants and wandered to where he was fiddling with seven-foot fir. “A tree?” “A peace offering. You said you’d gone to the peak to celebrate the holiday. I thought…” he shrugged. She felt a little hitch in her chest at the pensive, almost innocent glimmer in his eye. Could this be the same deadly hunter she’d just been running away from? Still, the gesture was a touching apology. “That’s very thoughtful. Thank you.” “We can broil some wolf steak for you later.” He looked around and tried to lean the tree against a wall. It slid sideways, and she had to laugh. “It needs a tree stand.” “I’m afraid I haven’t done this in quite some time.” “It doesn’t matter. It’s fine the way it is.” He frowned. “I’ll be back.”

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He was out the door in a flash again. Stephanie sighed at his rapidly shifting moods. She shouldn’t have laughed at the tree, though she hadn’t meant it to make fun of him. He returned with a circle of pine log several inches wider than the tree trunk. She watched as he carved out a hole with his curved knife and wedged the tree in it. “Genius,” she said when it was finished. “Thank you so much.” He ran a hand along its branches. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I never should have brought you here.” “I would have died if you hadn’t.” “I hadn’t fed in days. And”—he huffed out a frustrated sigh — “it’s this time of year. It sounds like a bad excuse, but I don’t have my normal control. The alcohol didn’t help, either. I let my guard down, and my nature came snarling out.” She sighed. “That sounds very much like my family.” “What?” “There was a lot more feuding in my family around the holidays when I was growing up. Something in the air and punch bowls, I guess.” He seemed to consider her words. “I didn’t mean to let things go so far. You stir something deep inside me, Stephanie. Something powerful. Then the blood...” She hugged herself when he paused, his gaze traveling up to the wound on her head. A hard look crossed his features. “I should have been much more careful. Please believe me when I say I don’t want to hurt you.” “I do,” she whispered, trying not to flash back on the image of him breaking a wolf’s bones and feeding from its neck. His gaze caught hold of her, shaking her emotions until she gripped her arms tighter around herself. When she started considering something suicidal, like kissing him again, she broke eye contact and coughed.

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“I wonder what we can use to decorate this tree?” Her attempt at a casual tone failed in light of the quiver in her voice. “I’m guessing you don’t have any popcorn or cranberries.” His eyes lit. “That reminds me,” he said. “Be right back.” “Again?” He was out the door, and she shook her head. Maybe he had a stash of popcorn somewhere after all. Then he was back. “How about this?” he said. “Oh!” A sting of tears rose, blurring her view of the object he held out to her. “Where did you get that?” “You were holding it when I found you in the creek.” “I was?” She took her father’s star from him, turning it over in her hands with awe. The wood was cold and wet but otherwise intact. “It dropped out on the porch when I was carrying you up, and I kicked it out of the way. Forgot all about it until now. This might be good for the tree, yes?” “Better than good,” she said. “It’s perfect. My dad made this as a Christmas tree topper years ago.” Thomas stared at the star. “I didn’t realize that’s what it was,” he said. “I wondered why it was important enough for you to hang onto, even unconscious.” She nodded. “It was part of some very fond memories. Would you do the honors?” “Sure.” He took it and scratched his head. “How?” “We just stuck it on as high up as we could get it to fit.” He propped the star among the branches, and her stomach warmed at the sight of it. She hobbled closer to him, then hugged his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you. Is it okay for me to do this?” He bent down and pressed a kiss to her head. “I’m better now that I’ve fed, I promise. And sobered up.” She offered a smile. “No more brandy for you, mister.”

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He sighed and turned to her, lifting her chin. “I don’t mean that, really. When you sent me into the kitchen to wait for you, all I could think of was what I could have done. It sickened me. Then when I realized you’d gone, that you’d rather risk fleeing injured through the snow than stay and be near me, I knew I could never live with myself if anything happened to you.” His eyes traveled along the angles of her face. “The sight of you facing down those wild animals is what sobered me. I saw what I must have looked like to you, and who I truly want to be was demonstrated more clearly in that moment than anything in a hundred years.” He gripped her shoulders. “Thank you, Stephanie.” She blinked. “For what?” “This time, you saved me.” When he drew her to him, Stephanie realized no holiday moment could be more magical than having a vampire kiss her in front of a Christmas tree. Their lips met in a rush of heat, and soon she felt his hard cock pressing against her. She pushed a hand against his chest and broke away. “Wait.” “I’m sorry,” he said, stepping back. “I had no right to do that.” She shook her head. “There is something I need from you.” “Name it.” “Do you own a hat or some bandages so we won’t have problems with my head again?” He blinked. “Your head isn’t the problem.” “Please.” He nodded and appeared to think for a moment then went over to his chest of drawers and rooted around. “The best I’ve got is a Tshirt.” He came back and draped the blue shirt over the top of her head. “Not quite what I had in mind,” she said, her voice muffled beneath the fabric hanging over her face.

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“Give me a minute.” He folded the shirt up over her forehead so she could see, then pulled the ends around the back of her head and tied them. “Go check it out,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom. “I look like a pirate,” she said when she came out after checking out her new head scarf. “Not very sexy, but at least it should help keep my wound from causing you any more discomfort. I’ll just be sorry if blood ruins your shirt.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry about that. And you look damn sexy as a pirate.” “You didn’t mention vampires have such poor vision. Sexy is the last thing I am right now.” Thomas moved around the couch, stopping short mere inches from her. “Then why do I want you so bad?” “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe because I’m lost and helpless?” He stepped into her space, invading every inch of her with potent male attraction. “Maybe because you’re so beautiful it makes me remember the man I used to be.” “You’re still a man, Thomas.” She reached a hand out and stroked it down the front of his chest. “Very much so.” He covered her hand with his. “I want to believe you.” She smiled. “Why else would I want you so bad?” “Maybe you feel sorry for me. Or you feel you owe me because I rescued you.” Stephanie pulled her hand away. “Yes, you saved me, clearly the actions of a good man, not a monster. A man I am very attracted to.” He shook his head and started to turn away, but she grabbed the front of his shirt. “Don’t go soft on me now, vampire.” The gaze he turned on her shot heat down her spine. “Soft is the last thing you make me.” He pulled her free hand down to the front of his jeans to prove it.

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This time when their mouths met, the air was charged with desperation. Her heart pounded in warning and desire. Why couldn’t she stay away from Thomas, even knowing the risk? She hobbled a bit while she pushed him backward toward the couch, their lips still joined. “Not here,” he said. “Let me take you to bed.” She glanced over at the tiny cot in the corner. “I don’t think we’ll both fit on that.” He smiled against her lips. “That’s just for appearances. I sleep in the basement.” “Basement?” She glanced around for a heretofore unnoticed doorway. He kicked aside the larger braided rug near the fireplace. “Ah, I should have guessed,” she said. “There’s always a secret compartment hidden in the floorboards.” He pulled open the entry with a squeak of hinges and picked her up in his arms. “What are you doing?” “You’ll have a hard time making it down there like this.” Without warning he jumped down into the dark hole, and her scream as she clutched at him was only halfway out when they landed on the floor below. Here it was too dark to see, and when he deposited her on shaky legs she wobbled and blinked against inky black. A hurricane lamp warmed the space a few moments later. Her throbbing need momentarily forgotten, she couldn’t help but stare at the room where Thomas obviously spent much of his time. The basement was furnished in a more modern style than upstairs, including a plush black rug and matching velour couch. The full-sized bed against the far wall was made up with numerous pillows and bedding with geometric patches of black and blood red. Figured he would be attracted to the color. A large armchair sat in the corner beside a standing electric lamp and floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books. The wall behind the step ladder he’d bypassed featured more

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typical basement fare, including storage shelves and a washer and dryer. She raised a brow at the latter. “So you do have some modern conveniences aside from the refrigerator.” She wandered to his bookshelves. “And you like to read a lot, I see.” “Not much to do out here.” She leaned over and plucked one off the shelf. “Beauty and the Beast?” He shrugged. “When you’ve been around a while you wind up reading pretty much everything.” She leafed through dog-eared pages. “But you like this one enough to read over and over.” She replaced the worn volume and turned around. “Ever hear of big screen TV and remote control?” He grunted. “I’m not much for television, and I was never fond of the old pail and washboard routine. A washer and dryer made more sense for me.” She hugged herself against the damp chill. “So you’re not a Monday night football fan?” Thomas moved closer, the possessive gleam returning to his eyes. “There are sports I find far more invigorating than watching men run around in tight pants.” “I don’t know.” Her voice quivered a bit from cold and his erotic stare. “Men in tight pants have their advantages.” “Some of us are at even better advantage with our pants off.” Her pulse pounded in her throat. “So I’ve seen.” In a heartbeat she was whisked up into his arms again, and he strode across the room. “You don’t have to keep doing this,” she said, whispering against his ear in a deliberate sultry tease. “I can walk, you know.” “Not fast enough.” He eased her down until they stood facing each other alongside the edge of his bed. His smoldering stare while he peeled the turtleneck over his head threatened to unhinge her knees. The sight of

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his bare chest dried what little moisture remained in her mouth, and her hands slid of their own accord over his muscled pecs. She felt him tremble beneath her palms while he tugged her pink sweater upward, and the two of them worked to keep her T-shirt bandana on her head so he could get her top off. Strong yet gentle fingers brushed over her shoulders, then grazed across her breasts. Her nipples stiffened, and her head fell back. He growled and bent immediately to her exposed throat. She froze for a moment, but his tongue merely flicked into the hollow where her collarbones met. She gripped his shoulders tight, feeling his flesh warm up beneath her hands. His mouth heated, too, while he moved back upward. His hands drew lazy circles around her breasts until she thought she would go mad. “You feel like a dream,” he whispered against her jaw. “A dream I don’t belong in.” Her hands moved down to the fly of his pants and worked his thick cock free. “I belong with you. You said so.” He moaned, and they helped each other finish disrobing. She shivered when they stood naked together. His hard body felt as warm as hers now, but it wasn’t enough to ward off the basement chill. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her face near his large, pulsing erection. She licked her lips and kept her sore knee stretched out while she leaned her head in to taste the salty tip of his cock. The groan in response held a note of torment. “I won’t last if you do that.” She ignored the warning and plunged her mouth straight down over his length, disappointed when she couldn’t manage to take all of him in. She held the base with one hand and slid him in and out, savoring the taste of his veined, velvet flesh. He froze, sucking in a deep hiss. Then he relented and pumped himself against her for a short time. “Jesus, Stephanie. Your mouth is like a honeyed furnace.”

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She gripped his ass cheeks with one hand and swirled her tongue around him with each stroke. Soon Thomas swore and pulled himself from her eager lips. “Not this time,” he said, lifting her up to position her farther back on the bed. “I want all of you.” She wiped her mouth and leaned back on the pillows in invitation. Then he was finally naked in her arms, like she’d been fantasizing almost since the first moment she’d seen him. His hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere at once, and goose bumps rose wherever he touched. He kissed his way down her stomach, where he teased her by spreading her labia and sweeping his tongue along her slit from her opening all the way up to her clit. After a few brief, maddening strokes he pulled away with a smile. She cried out in frustration but quieted when he settled his body over hers. She felt his cock barely graze her entrance and spread her legs for him as wide as her sore knee and hip would allow. Thomas gazed down at her right when she winced in pain at her eager motion. “Am I hurting you?” “Only if you stop,” she said. She raised her head to bite his nipple playfully. Her hands slid over his round, firm ass and pulled him forward until she felt the tip of his cock drive into her heat. Her moan sounded desperate, animal. She was no cold fish in bed, but she’d never been quite this aggressive before. Part of her wondered whether teasing him like this was such a smart idea. He nuzzled into her neck. “You’re driving me insane. I can’t decide whether you bring out the man in me or the animal.” “So fuck me and we can vote later.” His cock pushed into her until she cried out with pleasure, filling her until the world dissolved and all that was left was the need for Thomas to thrust into her like a hedonistic animal. She could tell he was trying hard to start off tender and slow, but Stephanie’s body revolted. The moment he was inside her she became a woman

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possessed. She bucked and writhed beneath him, her nails raking along his back while she tried to use her good knee for leverage in grinding her pelvis against his. She’d never needed sex with such desperation. Never felt such longing to be dominated like a cave woman being claimed by her man. She had no idea whether she was responding to the part of him that was a feral animal, or if she’d finally found a man her body resonated with like a tuning fork. Right now, she didn’t care. “Please, Thomas,” she said. “I need you. Don’t hold back.” “I have to,” he said. “Let me set the pace this time. Trust me.” A groan of frustration escaped her throat, but she heard the warning in his words and forced herself to relax. He lay still, bottomed out inside of her for endless moments of torture. She could feel her walls growing slicker, contracting around him while his cock pulsed in response. Their breathing fell into a jagged rhythm, and though he seemed maddeningly in control, his body temperature continued to rise until he blazed hotter than she did. By the gods, even with him refusing to work his cock inside her she already felt delicious tension gathering between her legs. He was going to make her come without so much as a twitch from his hips. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth to try and slow her frantic pulse, whimpering when a slight adjustment of his torso shifted one of his nipples deliciously across hers. “How can you stay so calm?” she said, her body shaking now with the effort of trying to keep still. His growl in response was one she remembered, and her eyes flew open in panic. His eyes were open, too, staring down at her. Gold seeped into his blue irises from the outer edges. “Thomas,” she whispered. “You’re mine,” he said. “Say it.” Heat flooded her abdomen. “I’m yours.” Then at last he was thrusting his cock into her with desperate abandon. She sighed in gratitude, clutched his powerful arms and

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hissed out his name. His tongue plunged into her mouth while he fucked her, and she wound her arms around his neck to hold him against her while their bodies arched and connected. They matched each other’s passion, action for reaction. He drove into her, and she forced the matter by pressing upward against him. He circled his hips to rub against her clit, and she reached a hand beneath their legs to stroke the balls slapping against her ass. Her other hand went for his nipple, and he countered by dipping his head to her breast. When she felt a soft graze of his sharp teeth there, however, she jerked back. “I’m sorry. It’s okay,” he told her. “I’m okay.” His voice held the foreign, dated tone she recalled earlier, and when he pulled his head back his fangs were extended. Her eyes widened, and she began to protest, but he put a finger against her lips. “It’s a natural reaction when sex is this good,” he said. “Don’t be afraid.” He kept riding her hips, though a bit slower. The concern in his golden gaze held a challenge, as if he were daring her to stop him. Still, she could see Thomas was still in control, and soon the rhythm of his lovemaking took hold of her wits all over again. “I trust you,” she said. This time when his growls escalated and grew increasingly inhuman, she didn’t shy away. On the contrary, she had to admit the sound of his animal desire and the sight of his fangs drove her into a wild, untamed sexual rhythm. He fucked her in long strokes that sent his torso sliding up and down her perspiration-slicked body, and before long he cradled the sides of her covered head and pressed his lips to hers. Her orgasm exploded and robbed her of all thought. He could have sunk fangs into her at that moment and she would neither have cared nor felt the pain. She was simply gone, lost in the sensation of nerve endings shattering with a pleasure principle never before known to her. He announced his release soon after with a near shout, and she felt his cock spasming inside her. Thomas coming with such force jolted

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her senses, reviving her need for him until she ground her clit against his pubic bone. Within moments she toppled over the edge again, and the two of them writhed together in sweaty orgasmic ecstasy. He laid on top of her for some time, his cock twitching inside her while she listened to their breathing slow in tandem. Her head pounded with a fresh ache, but she refused to acknowledge it and focused instead on the glorious aftermath of lovemaking. She’d cut loose and been totally wild with someone she’d known little more than a day, yet she felt no shame. She felt blissful lying in the arms of a man who grew fangs when aroused and admitted to wanting to bite her. She had either gone stark mad, or had discovered why falling for a guy could turn a woman utterly blind. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish your celebration on the hill,” he said at last. “I hope this helps make up for it just a little.” “More than a little,” she whispered. “Happy holidays. Now you can make up for scaring me out into the snow earlier.” Those were the last words spoken until well into the night. She began to move her hips in deliberate arcs against him, and with a groan his thrusts resumed.

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Chapter Six Stephanie awoke the next morning to Thomas’s tongue working against her clit and then dipping into her pussy. With a sigh she parted her thighs wider, her hands snaking into his hair while she arched her hips against his mouth. He moaned against her, the vibration spiraling her need higher. His eyes were a fiery blue-gold when signs of her stirring awake brought him sliding up her body to mount her. His skin was already hot when he positioned himself between her thighs, and both of them sucked in a gasp when he slipped his cock into her soaking wet opening. His motions were slow and deliberate this time, and she gave herself over to the lazy rhythm. She fisted the pillow behind her head and reveled in the joyous feeling of her lover pushing himself into her inch by inch until his cock head pulsed against her womb, then drawing back with steady torture until the mushroom tip stretched her entrance wide. He supported himself on straightened arms so only their pelvises and thighs touched. His hair fell in a sexy tumble over his face, but she could still see his eyes smoldering with an erotic passion that sent stabs of delight through her stomach. Even if she wasn’t able to feel the telltale heat and see the rapid advance of gold in his eyes, she still would have sensed how much he burned for her, how much he ached to drive himself inside her until the lines between their separate identities were irrevocably blurred. The knowledge of his desire sent a growl from her that wasn’t any more human than the noises he made in the heat of their passion.

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The sound seemed to unhinge Thomas. His upper arms began to quiver, and his eyes rolled back for a moment. When they reopened the blue shade was gone, and he returned her growl with one that sent her pelvis into action. She let go of the pillow, meaning to clutch his shoulders and force him down on top of her so their bodies could connect, but he grabbed her wrists and held them captive over her head. His head dipped to her ear, where his tongue ringed the sensitive edge. When his lips moved lower she arched her back, and goose bumps tingled along her flesh when she felt the graze of his teeth over her nipple. This time when she noticed the sharp points, fear didn’t dull her lust. Instead, her need for him spiked. She pressed her hips upward and whimpered for more. She tried to pull her hands free to run them over his hard ass, but he gripped them tighter, and she felt the sharp points prick into her breasts just a bit. Stephanie gasped in surprise, not out of painful fright but because her pleasure heightened with the feel of his fangs on her. The danger excited her, there was no denying it, and stupid as it was to admit, she didn’t give a damn. She tried again to wrench her hands free, whining with impatience when his supernatural strength proved no match. The fangs punctured a bit deeper, barely enough to draw blood. Then he pulled back and nestled the side of his head between her breasts. “Don’t fight me,” he growled in a low whisper. She immediately stopped twisting her hands but bucked her hips against him. “Then stop playing nice and fuck me hard already, Big Bad Vampire.” He swore, and she moaned in loud relief while his cock finally thrust into her without restraint. He released her hands and circled her torso with his powerful arms, pressing his feverish body tight to hers until she burned as hot for him as he did for her. His hips slapped against her hard enough to elicit guttural sounds from both of them, and soon she was screaming out a grinding climax. He came while the

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first shudders of her pulsing orgasm shot her into heaven and didn’t stop until she’d coated him with her cream twice. When he pulled out of her at last she groaned with regret, and he let out a low, sexy laugh while he settled his length against her side. “Good morning,” he said. “I’ll say.” She turned to face him, and they lay gazing at each other while he stroked her arm and upper thigh. She watched his fangs retract, but his eyes took longer to fade back to their normal shade. His body heat also decreased, as did hers until she shivered in the cold of the basement. The temperature had plummeted down here overnight, but while Thomas’s naturally cool skin couldn’t offer shared warmth, she hadn’t suffered. When he noticed her nipples puckering from cold, he rolled aside long enough to help her settle under the covers. “It’s fascinating how your body changes,” she said. “And how you seem to heat and cool so rapidly.” He climbed in beside her and pulled her into the crook of his arm. “Not on purpose. A vampire’s body uses energy for chemical reactions just like humans. We’re more efficient at it, though, so our baseline core temperature isn’t as high.” She slid a hand over his cool abdomen. “Yet sometimes you feel even hotter than I am.” He shot her a lazy smile. “Certain activities generate a lot more energy.” “Certain activities?” His hand found her breast and pinched her nipple, sending a surge of pleasure between her thighs. “You obviously guessed one of them.” She arched a brow. “There are other things that get you hot, so to speak?” “Fight or flight,” he said, “though I don’t encounter that too often.” He paused for a moment. “And hunting.”

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Some of his approach to lovemaking sprang to mind, a thought that did little to curb the pang of desire his touch had sparked. “Is that why sex makes you hotter? Because there’s a component of hunting behavior involved?” He rolled onto his back and folded his hands behind his head. “There are similarities. Mostly it’s just that the functions our bodies perform when in any excited state involves more output of energy, hence the greater heat.” She thought of how his growling sounds and scrape of his fangs turned her on even more while he fucked her. “So hunting puts you in an excited state? As in sexually?” “Not usually outright sexual.” He threw her a sidelong glance. “Why all the questions?” She shrugged. “Sorry. I just want to understand you better. I won’t ask if it makes you uncomfortable.” He sat up, covers pooling around his bare waist. “I suppose I’m feeling a little self-conscious. I keep thinking the next thing you hear is the thing that will send you running for the hills.” She pulled herself upright, too, a bit slower considering the throbbing pain in her leg. “In case you forgot, I’ve been there, done that. But I came back.” “Because I carried you. I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had a human try to understand me.” He caressed the side of her jaw. “Are you hungry?” Her pulse hammered under his touch. “I’m still full from the midnight wolf steak feast.” She flicked a gaze downward at the blood red quilt over her. “So other humans have tried to understand you? Human women?” “Are you jealous?” She looked back up to find him gazing at her quizzically. “Is there anyone I need to be jealous of?” He laughed. “Isn’t this the wrong side of the sheets to be asking that question from?”

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“That’s not an answer.” “I’m a hermit who retreats to the mountains every winter to avoid people. You’re a sexy, healthy human who probably has men falling all over her doorstep.” He frowned. “Maybe I should be asking you whether any guys are sitting on your stoop right now, wondering why you haven’t come home yet.” She wiggled the shirt-bandana that had slid askew overnight into a more comfortable position. “I haven’t slept with a man in almost two years,” she said. “I hit a dry spell before Dad died. Then things went downhill from there.” “And you kept sliding downhill until you landed in the creek.” She snorted. “True. A trip that ended my dry spell in more ways than one.” She shot him a suspicious look. “Thus ends my sexual confession. How about yours?” He stared at the ceiling for a moment. “It’s been over sixty years since I slept with a human.” Her jaw fell. “You haven’t had sex in sixty years?” She shook her head and grinned. “And here I was feeling like the world’s singularity of sexual deprivation.” His quirky smile held a note of mischief. “I said I hadn’t slept with a human in sixty years. Vampire women are another matter.” Her smile faded. “Oh.” She wasn’t sure she should have opened this topic for discussion, but now that it was out there she might as well hear the rest. “So let’s have it, then.” “Have it?” “A warning would be nice if a harem full of snarling vamp chicks is about to descend and bite me for stealing their sexual sultan.” His laugh tickled her stomach. “Sexual sultan?” She shrugged. “You get the drift.” “Believe me, women of any species haven’t beaten down my door for quite some time.” “Humor me, since the concept of time seems to have different meanings for us.”

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He shook his head, still laughing. “You’re serious about this.” “I showed you mine, now show me yours.” “Fair enough.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, then employed his trick of holding her chin so she couldn’t avoid his liquefied gaze. “I haven’t been with any woman since last winter.” She knew her secret wish that he’d waited decades for this moment was ludicrous, but she had hoped to at least find out she’d had the last hoo-rah. She frowned, wondering why it mattered. They were both adults, after all, and he was a sex god who had been around for more than a century. What else did she expect? “Whatever you’re thinking,” he said, “don’t. It wasn’t anyone I was serious about.” He heaved a sigh. “It was a lot worse than that, really.” “Worse how?” “I used her rather badly. Not that she minded in the least. It was more of a desperation fuck.” She folded her arms. “You were that horny?” He closed his eyes for a moment, and when they reopened she saw remorse. “I told you winters are difficult for me.” She nodded. “Last year I had a close call. I almost fed off a human woman.” Her fingers gripped her upper arms harder. “What happened?” “The girl caught me off guard just before I made my annual trek here. She was a pretty thing, with designer clothes, expensive perfume and a sucker-punch smile. When she claimed she’d been mugged, I didn’t stop to question what a woman like that would be doing alone in an alley.” Her eyes narrowed. “Claimed she’d been mugged?” “She was crying and begging for help. My lust for the hunt had already set in, so I was all too happy to chase after her imaginary attacker.” He shot her a grim look. “I didn’t think twice about running into the alley where she said he’d gone, right into a dead end where her three accomplices were waiting to relieve me of my valuables.”

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The wolf in the snow flashed to mind, and she felt a stab of pity for the crooks. “What did you do?” “One of them made the mistake of sticking a knife in my ribs. He never made it out of the alley. The other two ran out screaming and left their girl toy behind.” Her face fell when she saw a glimmer of red gold light his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry I brought this up. If you don’t want to talk about it...” He shook his head. “I didn’t hurt her. But blood lust had taken hold, and her fear smelled like heaven. I dragged her into the alley and had my fangs to her exposed throat before I knew what I was doing. It took everything I had to let her go.” She shivered. “But you did.” “It didn’t matter. Once that kind of craving sets in, it’s damn near impossible to just walk it off. We need a kill or something close enough to it to drain off the explosive energy. So I scented out a female vampire and all but dragged her home.” Her stomach knotted. “And that works?” He blew out a breath. “Our night together, needless to say, was solely about my need to cut loose the destructive energy so I wouldn’t harm a human. The next day I all but fled here to the cabin.” She shifted a bit on the mattress. “That doesn’t sound so bad. A rigorous roll in bed eases vampire cravings.” She offered a hopeful smile. “Good to know.” “Hardly. I didn’t just sleep with her. I fed from her.” Stephanie’s lip curled. “Vampires bite each other?” “Our blood doesn’t sustain one another. But it tastes similar, and the act of biting relieves the oral obsession a hunting urge produces. So it’s more a recreational thing between us. Or in my case, an act of desperation.” “Oh.” Her tone went flat. “I guess that blows my suggestion to offer myself as a love slave whenever you feel peckish.”

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His eyes darkened. “Only a suicidal fool would make such an offer to a vampire.” She began to wonder how much she fit that description, considering who she had just slept with. “Please understand,” he said, taking her hand in his cold palm. “I would do everything in my power to keep from hurting you. But I am what I am, and part of the package includes a Hyde lurking inside Dr. Jekyll.” He ran fingertips lightly over the back of her hand, and a tingle ran up her arm. “The reason I fed off that wolf in front of you the way that I did was to protect you from my hunting instinct. Not just because I needed food, but because the fight sparked my lust to bite. Had I not unleashed that energy on the animal...” he trailed off. She swallowed a dry lump. “Better it than me.” The words came out more like a croak. “You kept enough presence of mind to go that route rather than hurt me, though. I’m grateful for that.” “Stephanie,” he said in a low whisper. “You don’t sound grateful. You sound disgusted.” She forced her fists to uncurl. “No I don’t. I asked for the truth, and you gave it to me.” “You should be disgusted.” He looked away. “I am, every day.” “Which is why you are not the monster you try to claim you are.” She reached out and stroked his cool cheek. “You care enough to exile yourself when necessary to avoid harming humans. God knows humans don’t have enough sense to keep from hurting each other.” His eyes fell to her bare breast, and then widened. “Jesus. What the hell is that?” She looked down at the pair of red marks he’d left. “What the hell do you think?” “Shit.” He shook his head. “I really did it.” He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before glancing back at her breast “I barely even remember. God, I’m so sorry.” “It’s no problem.” “It is a problem. Eventually the animal will win. It always does.”

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“We’re all animals.” He released her hand. “Surely you aren’t trying to justify the things I’ve done? Our talk about the food chain was a hard enough sell with you.” She sighed. “I don’t justify your deeds any more than my own. But we are both trying to be the best people we can be, and I respect the fact that your struggle is in some ways far greater.” He paused for a long time, too long for her comfort. “This can’t work between us,” he said at last. “I’ll do something you or I can’t live with.” Her stomach flip-flopped. “That isn’t a problem reserved for vampires, you know. Human couples deal with it, too.” “Their problems don’t typically involve murder.” Her stomach turned itself over. “The man in the alley stabbed you. It was self defense.” “It hasn’t always been self defense.” “How long has it been since you murdered a human?” He hesitated. “Sixty years.” “That’s more than twice my lifetime. I don’t see why history that old has to become a dividing force between us.” “Because you don’t know the whole story.” Thomas shoved the covers off and got to his feet, and she watched with her heart in her throat while he stalked to a small dresser and covered his sculpted perfection with a fresh pair of black jeans and a sweater the same shade of red as his bedding. His crimes may have been decades back, but shades of blood seemed to be ever present in his mind. That was good, right? It was his subconscious way of reminding himself to avoid past mistakes. At least, she hoped that was the psychology behind it. He finger combed his hair and turned to face her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let things go so far with you.” Heat boiled up from her stomach, flooding into her cheeks. “Yeah? Which time?”

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“It was a stupid risk. One we can’t repeat.” “In the words of a famous vampire, isn’t this the wrong side of the sheets to be saying that from?” She shoved away the covers and hissed at the feel of stiff, painful joints while she slid off his bed. She hurt even worse today, probably in part due to the wild sex they’d indulged in a few times already. Sex Thomas now regretted. A dull ache tapped at her skull the moment she was on her feet. Her limp was pronounced, and she still had the ridiculous shirt wrapped around her head, but she took deliberate pleasure in watching his eyes skim over every inch of her naked, if not bruised curves while she went to his bookcase. “Maybe you haven’t read this one enough, then.” She tossed Beauty and the Beast into his armchair, then stalked over to him and stopped just far away to offer him a full view of her body. “Look, I’ve never been gracious about the whole morning-after remorse thing. It’s bad for my complexion.” “This isn’t a joke, Stephanie.” “No, it’s not.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “I would have died in the creek if you hadn’t saved me. You took care of me even after I found out what you were. Even though you knew you would have to leave here because I knew. I admit I freaked and ran out into the snow, but when I did, you were there to save me again.” She waited for a response, but he remained silent. “I knew what I was getting into when I let you make love to me, Thomas.” She took a step forward. “Over and over again.” His gaze dropped to her breasts, and he reached a hand out to brush his fingers lightly over his bite mark. “Did you? Did you really know? God, how could I have let myself do that to you?” She glanced down. “Is that what this is about? Not to sound like a big tramp, but trust me when I say I’ve had worse love bites in the sack. It doesn’t hurt. In fact, it kind of tingles.”

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Thomas growled and flashed out. Before she could react, he twisted her around and pressed himself against her back, his arms wrapped around her breasts and stomach. He bent to her ear. “Trust me when I say the love bites I could give you in the sack would be decidedly more than you could handle.” She struggled to keep a quiver out of her voice. “So this is a contest over who is more twisted in bed?” She turned her head to see part of his profile. “Fine. I already know you win.” He pulled himself away. “No. We both lose.” She turned back to face him. “I don’t understand why you’re being like this. I just woke up with your face between my thighs, and now you want to claim you shouldn’t screw me? That it was just a stupid whim?” Icy blue eyes flashed. “I didn’t screw you, and it wasn’t a whim. But it was a mistake.” She ran her hands over her breasts, pinching her nipples until she felt them peak. “Tell me you don’t want me.” “Don’t.” “Why? You made love to me all night, like you couldn’t get enough. You liked it.” One hand slid down her stomach to part her curls, exposing her labia to him. “Touch me again and say you don’t still like it.” He growled and strode over to pull her hands away from herself. “I liked it plenty. Too much. A smart girl would stop teasing a vampire into showing her how much he can like it.” “You didn’t hurt me, Thomas. You won’t hurt me.” His eyes flicked down at her chest, but she shook her head. “That doesn’t count. I can take some rough play in bed. Just because you found me during a rather helpless moment in my life doesn’t mean I’m a china doll.” When he didn’t answer, she stepped closer and pressed herself against him. “Look, I get you’re a big bad and did things in the

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ancient past. But you said you would do everything in your power not to hurt me, and I believe you. We can just be careful.” He jerked back. “No, you don’t get it. The last person I fed on was sixty years ago, yes. She also happened to be my last human lover.” He glared at her. “Someone who thought we could be careful.” She gaped at him while he stalked across the room and dropped into his armchair, head in his hands. A chill seeped into her bones, and she quietly returned to his bed, pulling his quilt around her while she sat on the edge. “Maybe it’s time you told me the story you should have brought up before you took me to bed.” He glanced up at her, then leaned his elbows on his thighs and stared at the floor. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to. I hoped things would be different now.” “Were you serious about this woman?” “I was.” “I take it things got carried away.” “No. Things didn’t get carried away.” His voice was gruff, almost unrecognizable. “I lost control.” She clutched the quilt around her until her fingers ached. “I’m listening.” “It might sound hard to believe, but some women aren’t afraid of vampires,” he said, his eyes glittering with something dark. “They like taking the risk. They get turned on by the element of danger.” She swallowed, but said nothing. “Helen didn’t start off like that. She was truly terrified of me, at first.” “Who was she? Your girlfriend? Wife?” “She was my prey.” He rose and moved about the room, picking up their discarded clothes from the previous night as though the activity would help get the story told. “The Nazis did a lot of human experimentation back then. They were also interested in vampires. Helen was part of a research team studying our hunting habits.” “You lived in Germany?”

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“Ja,” he said in a flawless dialect. “Ich lebte dort seit fünfzehn Jahren. For fifteen years.” “And they experimented on you.” He grunted. “They tried. I had a rather strict policy against cooperating with experimentation.” His lip curled. “Especially by Nazis.” “If you hated the regime, why live there?” His grin held an edge of cold steel. “Good hunting grounds.” “You hunted down Nazis?” “I did my part. This was during a phase where I was still debating how to battle my nature. For a while I decided to hunt bad humans.” “Wow.” “At the time I didn’t understand why it was doomed to fail.” “Because they caught you.” “No, because the instinct backfired on me.” He laid Stephanie’s clothes on the bed, including his loaner jeans. She took the silent hint and began tugging things on while she listened. “Helen was used as bait to lure vampires into captivity.” He walked over to the washing machine and deposited his other clothes on top. “I saw through their ploy, however, and was waiting for her the night she sat alone in the park. I’d slipped her out from under their noses and dragged her to an adjacent quarry before they even saw me coming.” Stephanie expelled the breath she’d been holding. “And you fed on her rather than let her experiment on you.” “No. I made her a deal.” “But she was a Nazi.” “Not exactly. She was interested in the science. She never agreed with the ideology.” She grimaced while she bent her knee to tie her shoes. “So what was the deal?”

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“I agreed to let her study my hunting strategies, but on my terms.” He folded his arms and leaned back against the washer. “Which involved her passing me information on good targets to take out.” Her brow rose. “You got her to go turncoat.” “Like I said, she was there for the science, not the regime.” “And at some point the two of you got involved personally.” He nodded. “She truly was frightened of me at first. And watching me hunt, well, that certainly didn’t help.” He shut his eyes as if closing out memories. “But that began to change. I saw a glimmer of excitement in her eye when I’d make a kill. Admiration. Attraction. Finally, she seduced me one night. Sex between us was good, but not desperately passionate. I thought I could keep things restrained with her.” He met Stephanie’s eyes with a haunted look. Though she was obviously about to hear this woman met with a bad outcome, Stephanie couldn’t help but feel jealous. Stupid, considering the affair ended so long ago. Still, two Nazi spies working in the shadows to take down bad guys sounded a lot more exciting than pulling a half-dead, bedraggled klutz out of a river. She licked parched lips. “Sounds like you two were rather Bonnie and Clyde.” He flicked a dark glance at her. “Our successes and my animal methods drove Helen’s curiosity to a critical point. She started pressing me to be more aggressive in bed. To role play the wild urges she saw me give into on the hunt. Just for fun, she said. Just to help her understand.” He gave Stephanie an accusing look. “Still, I saw the truth. Though I felt strongly for her, I don’t believe she was really falling in love with me. She was falling in love with my power. Her passion pounded for danger.” He moved toward the bed. “She had experienced what it was like to be my prey,” he said, “but ached to know what it would be like for me to lose control with her, to want her so much I would sink my fangs into her flesh.” Stephanie’s mouth went dry. “But that’s insane.”

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“Is it?” He stood in front of her now. “Is it insane for a human animal to admire the prowess of an even greater predator? To wonder what it would be like to be dominated by that superior strength for just a moment?” She blinked rapidly. “Yes. It’d be crazy to want that.” “Are you crazy, Stephanie?” When he bent down face to face with her, she noted with a tinge of alarm that gold speckles once again ringed the outer rim of his irises. “No. Of course not.” She scooted away from him on the bed. “No.” He knelt on the mattress while she continued to move back, his muscles flexing while he stalked her on hands and knees like a panther on the prowl. “So I haven’t seen that same hunger in your eyes? I didn’t smell your lust to be claimed by an animal?” “No.” The wall behind her stopped her retreat, and he slid his knees between her thighs. His hand squeezed the breast which still tingled with the erotic aftermath of his bite. “You didn’t cry out in hot pleasure when you felt my teeth sink in? You didn’t just stand here and tell me it didn’t matter that I hurt you, because you can take it rough?” Her cheeks flamed hot. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want you to really hurt me.” His hands rested on the wall on either side of her head. “Part of you does. I can see it. My nature calls out to your ancient instincts, and you respond like you’re in heat.” His voice rose. “You unleash the urge for my animal by raking your claws across my back, growling like a wild thing, and telling me to stop playing nice and fuck you like a big, bad vampire.” Her heart hammered against her chest while she watched red-gold shimmers creep inward to overtake his liquid stare. A glance downward showed a bulge straining against the fly of his pants. He was scaring her, and he was getting off on it. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t.”

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“Isn’t this what you really want?” He opened his mouth in time for her to see two points descend into place. “You want a dangerous animal to fuck you and bite you until you bleed?” Tears stung her eyes. “Stop it, Thomas.” He brushed a tear from her cheek and then pulled up her sweater to bare her breasts. His low growl shot panic through her. He opened his mouth wider and bent his head toward her rounded flesh. “Do I frighten you?” She could barely force the word from her constricted throat. “Yes.” He yanked down her sweater and pushed himself off the bed. “Good.” Her entire body began to shake. “You bastard.” “You thanked me for saving you twice,” he said. “Consider my opinion that we shouldn’t sleep together my third rescue.” “A little late, but you’ve made your point,” she said, sniffing back tears. “To me and yourself. You’re a cruel, evil monster. Happy?” His look sheared her in two. “Not for over a century.” “I have to go to the bathroom.” She raised her chin. “If I’m allowed.” “You were never my prisoner. I didn’t want you here in the first place, remember?” She scooted herself off the bed and hobbled to the pull-down stairway. “That makes two of us.” He was beside her when she took hold of the ladder. “You can’t get up the ladder with a hurt leg.” Her nostrils flared and she shoved him back. “Watch me.” One rung at a time and bearing much of her weight with her arms, she pulled herself up to the main cabin, biting down hard against the burning pain in her knee so she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing her whimper in pain. The scent of pine in the room did nothing to cheer her mood, but the view out the window did. Bright sunshine streamed in, and snow

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had given way to blue skies at last. Melting icicles dripped, albeit slowly, out along the eaves. She could finally get the hell out of this nightmare. Stephanie would have liked nothing better than to pee and race back to sanity, but a hot shower beckoned. She peeled off everything including the shirt bandana now dotted with blood, then washed off most of the reminders of their torrid night together. His male scent rinsed down the drain, though the lemony soap stirred all new images of him holding her body against his while he rocked them to orgasm. Her labia felt tender as she bathed away their lovemaking, wishing the ugly scene afterward could be washed away as easily. While she lathered up she was still aware of the bite on her breast, tingling with faint stirrings of arousal. Yeah, so maybe she did have a thing for bad boys. He’d cured her of that. After shampooing her hair and washing out her underpants, she half stumbled out of the shower and dried off as fast as she could. Her body had formed what seemed permanent goose bumps from the moment he’d backed her against the head of the bed, and her nipples were puckered so hard they were almost numb when she pulled on her sweater. Her torn snow pants had dried overnight, and she shrugged into them. She’d be glad to burn the damn things when this was all through, but they needed to make it through one last wearing. Thomas was waiting for her when she came out, staring into a fireplace that had long since died. She grabbed her mostly dry parka and gloves off the floor. “Your pants are ripped,” he said. “You can borrow mine.” “No thanks,” she said, barely able to keep venom out of her tone. “I see the snow has let up, so I’d say its half past time for me to hightail it out of your life. Wouldn’t you?” He grabbed her hand. “Don’t be angry.”

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She let out a maniacal laugh. “Why ever would I be angry? Just because you want to eat me in the not nice sense and insulted me by saying I’m a twisted tramp who likes being abused by animals?” “I’m trying to do the right thing.” She yanked her hand away and shrugged into her parka. “Yeah, I heard the campaign speech. Thanks.” After wadding her wet underwear up and stuffing it into one pocket, she put on her thankfully dry gloves. He stared at her. “So you’re leaving, then.” She cocked her head. “You may be a bit rusty about the whole sex thing, but that’s generally what happens when you treat your onenight-stand like shit in the morning.” “You’re not a one-night-stand.” “No, I’m fast food.” She stalked to the door, but he beat her there and held it shut. She glared at him. “I thought you said I wasn’t a prisoner?” “Wait and I’ll go with you.” “No way.” “You don’t know the way back.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “Sure I do. Follow the sadistic creek that thought it would be fun to drag me off to Never-Again Land.” “With a bad leg, snowdrifts too deep to navigate, and no easy way to skirt around Stanton Peak to where your truck is no doubt buried under a few feet of snow.” He folded his arms. “Assuming you still have the keys.” That stopped her. Shit. They’d been in her jacket pocket before the fall. She patted around in her coat in vain. They were long gone. “So I’ll go to the nearest house that actually believes in twentiethcentury technology and call for help.” “Fine.” He pulled the parka up over her still-damp head. “I’ll take you.” “No.”

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“We’re not having this argument.” “Damn right.” She shoved the parka hood back down. “An argument would involve two people who give enough of a shit about what each other has to say to stick around and put up with it.” With that, he yanked open the door and stomped out. She stared through the open door, noting he hadn’t gone toward the woods where they’d find the stream. He wasn’t coming with her after all. Good. She went out and promptly slipped on an icy porch step while tugging on her gloves. Luck somehow spared her a nasty fall, and she stumbled out toward the woods. The sound of crunching feet behind her moments later sent an expletive from her lips, and before she could whirl on the interloper he’d unceremoniously whisked her up into his arms. Sunlight picked up the highlights in his hair and shot gleaming fire into his already heated gaze. Guess that answered the question as to whether vampires could go out in daylight. “You could have waited a minute,” he said. “I told you I don’t want your help.” “Tough shit.” She curled her lip. “I’m not legless, you know. Carrying me around like a damsel in distress is humiliating and beyond unnecessary.” “Yeah, I saw how well you were doing on your own,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “You nearly took a header off my porch. Little wonder I had to yank you out of a creek.” She scowled at him. “Vampires sure aren’t big on manners.” He tossed hair back from his face. “Forgive me. You’re welcome for my being kind enough to offer you assistance back to real life.” She glared at him, but her retort died unsaid. There was no winning with petulant men. When they entered the tree line, she saw him focus on zigzagging in and out from among the pines without getting them hit by patches of falling snow. She glanced around at the sparkling winter landscape,

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marveling at how it had changed in a day. Powdery fluffs had turned to icy clods weighing down branches. Occasional beams of sunlight hit the clear crystalline patches with rainbow brilliance. While there was no birdsong or signs of animal life, yesterday’s sounds of ethereal snowfall had given way to crackles and drips of melting ice. The temperature outside had done as dramatic an about-face as the one she’d just weathered inside the cabin, though Thomas had gone from sizzling to frigid rather than vice versa. As always, the cold turned on an invisible faucet inside Stephanie’s nose. She sniffed, irritated when Thomas’s scent seeped in. The smells of the great outdoors were blocked by her congestion and possibly the layers of ice, but his male aroma managed to get in and churn up intimate memories that sped her pulse. Her luck just kept going south. She glanced down at the ground and saw very little snow now. “You can put me down here,” she said. “There aren’t any diabolical snowdrifts under these trees.” “I’m a lot faster. And you should stay off that knee as much as you can.” She rolled her eyes. Thomas was nothing if not stubbornly male. Still, she had to admit they were moving at an impressive clip. In fact, she heard a sound that caught her off balance enough to gasp and throw her arms around his neck. “What’s wrong?” he said. Her heart fluttered, but she shook her head. “Nothing. I can hear the creek.” He glanced at her, but she refused to meet his gaze. Something about the sound of that water set her teeth on edge, and to prove it they began to chatter. Apparently, near-drowning could make one a bit skittish about water. “It’s okay,” he said. “I was going to cross the bridge over to the rescue station, but we can circle the back of the peak if you’d rather.”

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“No, I’m fine.” Bile rising in the back of her throat seemed to challenge the opinion. Damn, why did she always come off looking like such a useless dimwit around this man? “If you’re sure.” She nodded. The tree line ended just before the sheer cliff of Stanton Peak, and when they emerged she stared up at the face of it in awe. God, it was high up. A lead weight sank in her stomach at the thought of her fall and how lucky she’d been to survive with just bumps and bruises. The storm had erased traces of her skid, though one tree held a branch at an odd angle. She might have broken it during her descent, or perhaps it had given out later under the weight of ice. “Are you still okay?” he asked. She shook her head. “Amazed, actually.” He stared up the hill. “Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t break anything. You could have shattered your neck.” She felt his arms tighten around her a bit. “From what I remember, the slide down wasn’t even where I took the worst of it. What almost did me in was hitting my head on something in the creek. That’s when I must have passed out.” They pressed on, a more thoughtful layer of silence now hanging between them like the puffs of frigid air she breathed out. The sound of water rushed in her ears here, though, and her puffs of breath came faster and shallower with each of Thomas’s steps. She decided to drown out the relentless sound with the drone of conversation. “So, you never finished your story about Helen,” she said, kicking herself when she felt him stiffen. Leave it to her to blurt out the absolute worst possible topic. “I thought we hit the important highlights.” “I’d like to understand what happened, especially since it apparently is a key factor for why we will be bidding each other a permanent farewell at the rescue station.”

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He kept walking, and for a while she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he huffed out a breath she actually saw fog a bit in front of him. “Helen got obsessed with the idea of flirting with my dangerous side. And I grew more excited by the idea of letting her.” She searched his gaze when he paused. He stared straight ahead, seeming intent on getting to their destination. Intent on hurrying Stephanie out of his life. “So you bit her,” she prompted. “Did she become like you?” The thought registered, and she slapped a hand over the breast still tingling where his teeth grazed her. “Oh, God. Will I become like you?” That drew his attention back down to her. “Ah. So now you finally consider there might be consequences.” She gasped. “I’m going to turn into a vampire?” “No. Our saliva doesn’t have a high enough concentration of the infecting organism to initiate the change.” The claw of panic gripping her heart eased, but she frowned and pulled down on the neck of his red sweater. “But what about these marks you showed me when you told me the story of when you were changed? Didn’t she turn you by biting?” “It’s more complicated than that.” “So how does it work?” He shook his head. “Trade secret.” She sighed and released his sweater. Let him have his intrigues. As long as his bite hadn’t infected her, it didn’t matter. “Fine,” she said. “So you bit Helen, and she didn’t turn into a vampire. Then what?” “I didn’t just bite her once. I’d been biting her for a while. That’s partially why her obsession got so much worse.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand.” “I made the mistake of telling her the truth about vampire bites, and she begged me to let her experience it. I relented. One bite led to more. Too many.”

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“The truth about them? You just said they can’t turn someone.” He shook his head. “This is need-to-know stuff I’ve learned my lesson about divulging.” Now she used his trick of forcing a meeting between their eyes by grabbing his chin. “Considering you’ve already bitten me, don’t you think I’ve earned a spot on the mailing list?” He stopped in his tracks. After a moment he gently set her on her feet but kept a hold of her upper arms. The snow was thick here but packed enough for her snow boots not to sink in too far. “Can you still feel it?” he said. “What?” “The bite.” She nodded, an uneasy feeling snaking around her spine. “A tiny bit.” He heaved a sigh. “I’m so damned sorry. I didn’t even realize I’d done it. Not consciously.” She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle in alarm. “Why? What did you do to me?” He dropped his arms and stepped back. “Our saliva won’t turn a human, but it does contain an interesting property. A vampire bite causes more pleasure than pain. It’s a hunting mechanism, similar to the way a spider injects anesthetic into its victims so they don’t feel pain when their bodies are wrapped in silk and drained of blood.” She rubbed at the spot through her jacket. “So you anesthetized me.” He shook his head. “Our bite triggers desire, ranging from mild pleasure to intense sexual euphoria depending on the depth of the bite, plus the age and chemical makeup of the vampire.” She stared at him, several flashbacks sending heat to her face. He’d not really even drawn blood, yet she could still feel a tiny, not unpleasant tingle. She rubbed the spot. “In that case, I’m guessing your saliva contains the chemical equivalent of a sexual A-bomb.”

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His expression flickered surprise before regaining its sour demeanor. “I’m told it’s potent. And it gets more so as I age.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “So that’s why you accused me of getting off on you biting me.” He sighed. “It wasn’t an insult, just a scientific fact.” “I’ll admit I noticed an effect.” She shrugged. “So I’m guessing Helen got hooked on it, and the last bite went too far.” “The last bite was completely out of control. She was completely out of control.” “You said you were the one who lost it.” “I was the designated driver and spun out of sanity right along with her.” Gloved fists clenched inside her pockets. “So tell me and get it off both our chests.” He nodded, but it took a minute before he would continue. “By then I’d been biting her every time we made love. She was still feeling the effects of my last bite when she watched me make a kill. It was stupid of me, but I was feeling so sure of myself. So arrogant. I hadn’t even finished draining him when she pulled me away. She had stripped naked.” He stopped, shut his eyes and swore. “She was halfcrazed. She smeared his blood on her body and told me to take her. Jesus, Steph. I was still in blood lust, still feeding and she pulled my head to her bloody breast.” Nauseating dread coated her stomach. “My God. How could she do something so insane? So sick?” “It was my fault, not hers. She was essentially under the influence of a powerful drug. My drug. I was under the influence of my own blood lust. I didn’t mean to.” The torture in his voice twisted in her like one of the frozen shards hanging in the woods. “But it happened before I even registered who I was feeding from.” Her dizziness returned without warning, and she blinked to try and stay upright. She wavered, and Thomas grabbed her arms. “I had my cock buried inside a woman I supposedly cared about, and we were

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both still coming when she died in my arms.” Tears blurred Stephanie’s view of his desperate expression. “I had no idea what I was doing. She never even fought me. Never asked me to stop. She was probably so far gone she never realized I was killing her.” “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “That was the last winter I spent in the company of humans. The winter I swore I’d never get involved with one again.” When he let go of her this time, she staggered back and wiped tears with the back of a gloved hand. “If you were so set against it, why did you sleep with me?” His gaze flicked to her for a brief moment. “I gave into a moment of weakness.” She snorted. “A moment? Try several times over many hours. Why?” She fingered her throat with a gloved hand. “Are you that close to giving into the urge to feed off a human?” “No.” He turned away. “I’m that close to giving into the urge to fall head over for you.” Despite winter chill the sun couldn’t quite penetrate, a surge of heat rushed through her. She was trying to piece scrambled thoughts together into a sentence that would make sense when he spun around and walked past her, avoiding her eyes. “We’re here,” he said. “If you’re still up for it.” She twisted around to see the bridge spanning behind her, and a tight band of panic circled her chest. Her heart beat pounded against it, and she froze for a moment, but then she squared her shoulders and nodded. “Let’s go.” When he moved toward her, she held up a hand. “I don’t want to be carried across.” She eyed the racing water. “I don’t like the idea of being held higher than the rail.” “Lean against me for support to walk, then,” he ventured. “I’ll help you.” “No. I want to do this on my own.”

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She walked ahead of him and stepped onto the bridge, ignoring the crackle of old yet serviceable wood and the increased sounds of water flow with each step. Her heart raced, and the bile in her throat rose higher. Though the bridge was steady there was a sensation of motion, as though the water were picking her up and carrying her off all over again. She sucked in a breath and picked up her pace. The creak roared up here, as though angry she’d dared to survive and return. Another round of hyperventilation pricked up speckles around the edge of her vision, and the view in front of her began to spin. Halfway across, images flashed of her flailing in the water, helpless and freezing while she was dragged along. She reached out and clutched the handrail, trying to slow her breathing and encroaching panic. She felt his hand on her back. “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid.” “I’m not afraid,” she said. “I can smell fear, remember?” She reached down to rub her sore leg. “I’m saying it for my benefit, not yours. Could you stop countering my bullshit pep talk?” His hand fell away from her back. “If you’d just let me carry you, this would be over fast and you wouldn’t have to do this.” “The point isn’t to get away from this as fast as possible.” She fixed him with a look. “It’s to face up to an irrational fear. I don’t want to panic over something beautiful that is only dangerous under a specific set of circumstances.” She turned away from his clouded expression, keenly aware of his proximity behind her while she stared at the flowing current. She trembled and blinked away dizziness the sight of churning, bubbling water caused while it tumbled along and disappeared beneath their feet. “Sometimes it’s better to see danger for what it is,” he said. “And steer clear.” She kept her eyes focused on the mesmerizing torrent. “I’m sorry for what happened with Helen. It was tragic. But it’s in the past. You

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don’t feed off humans anymore, and I have no interest in watching you hunt and then smearing myself with the blood of your kills afterward. It wouldn’t be the same.” “No, it would be worse.” He leaned on the rail and tried to enter her line of vision, but she kept her eyes on the churning foam. “It took Helen weeks to wear me down enough to give into biting her. But you...” he let out an angry growl. “The feelings you stir in me are far stronger. You are much more dangerous.” She blinked and glanced at him, still quivering in the face of what seemed a violent, roaring river. “So, you got a big wake up call. You’ll know better next time.” “Do you really think I want to take that chance?” A prickle of anger jabbed at her stomach. “I’m not Helen. I’m not going to take the risks she did.” “You don’t know what you would risk. You’ve already risked more than you should.” “Then I’ll stop.” “You can’t predict how my bite would affect you, especially over time.” She turned away from the water. “So we’ll have a strict no-bite policy.” “I already had one. It didn’t last a single night with you.” She sighed. “So there’s no way to convince you Helen and I are different? That the same thing wouldn’t happen again?” “You are different. Helen would never have done what she did in her right mind. She was a bright, intelligent scientist, not a loose dance hall girl.” Her jaw fell open, and she shoved him back. “And I am?” “No.” He moved forward again and took hold of her shoulders. “But you are more untamed and passionate by nature than she was after months of my bite. You bring my animal right to the surface, Stephanie.” His stare pierced to her soul. “You make me want to give into whatever wild pleasures you might ask.”

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She cleared her throat. “So I won’t ask.” “Yes, you will. You already have.” She just stared at him. “Do you have any idea how bad I want to sink my fangs in you when you look at me the way you do? Not to drain you out of hunger, but to mark you as mine.” He shook her a bit by the shoulders. “To make you feel the same ecstasy you stir inside me. I’ve never felt that way about a partner before, and it scares me.” Her legs were fast turning to rubber. “What makes you think I don’t feel that ecstasy already?” “Oh, I think you do.” He leaned toward her until the only thing in her vision was smoldering eyes and seductive lips. “Part of me wants nothing more than to sink teeth into your flesh right now, do you know that? I want to bite you until you beg for more. I know you would, and I think you damn well know it, too.” Watching his lips wove a dangerous spell around her, and she couldn’t deny a word he was saying. “My cock is hard for you now, just thinking about it. I could fuck you right here on this bridge, and you would let me. I’d carry you back to my cabin, and you would never want to leave. We’d feed off our desire for one another in an endless circle until it winds up killing you and destroying me. But I won’t let it happen. Not again.” He released her, and she swaggered back, adrenaline shooting through her limbs. She felt the rail of the bridge press against her, heard it creak in response. She pushed away with a small stab of panic. Thomas was staring over her shoulder at the current. His wary expression gave her the uneasy sense that water was rising behind her like a tidal wave, preparing to swallow them both like the blazing passion he feared so much. “I’ve had enough bravery, I think,” she said, her voice cracking as she limped double-time toward the end of the bridge. “Let’s get the hell off this thing.”

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She was relieved when Thomas did not offer to carry her again at the far side of the creek. They walked in silence with the roar of water thankfully diminishing behind her until Stephanie spotted a wooden building with a large antenna and satellite dish on top. When they stepped into the blissfully warm rescue station, her life jump-started from a surreal pause to a frenzied fast forward. Sometime in the midst of answering a flurry of questions, a preliminary first aid exam, and radio calls to medical transport and search and rescue, she realized Thomas had left her and slipped out. “He did a brave thing, pulling you out of that water,” a ranger said when she’d inquired about him. “But don’t you worry. We’ll take good care of you from here.” But she did worry, all through her ambulance ride to the hospital, while doctors fussed in the emergency room, after refusals to notify next of kin lest Marcie flip out, and during updates on the search for her truck. It was located and towed to the nearest storage yard, but she hadn’t asked nor expected them to dig out her belongings up on the peak. When she was finally alone in her apartment that night, she settled her aching body on the couch and dialed her sister’s number. “Where the hell have you been?” Marcie said. “Thanks, I missed you, too.” “I know you were pissed off, but you could at least have answered my messages.” “I didn’t get any messages,” she said, launching into the story she’d decided to tell. “My cell phone dropped in the snow and got wet.” “So you did go to the peak after all. Quite a snowfall up there, I hear.” “I didn’t camp out,” Stephanie said. “I stayed in a cabin for a couple days. There was no phone there, or else I would have called.” “Hmm. Well, I’d been trying to say I was sorry for not wanting to go. But it wasn’t because I don’t want to honor Pops.”

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“I know. I was just talking shit because I was mad.” She heard her sister’s sigh. “Truth is, the holidays are getting to me this year. I just wasn’t up for wallowing in old memories at the peak.” “Yeah.” There was an awkward silence. “So, lunch next week?” “Sure.” Stephanie raised a hand to the square bandage on her head. “I, uh, look a bit worse for wear, though. The cabin steps were a bit icy when I left and I slipped.” As it turned out, Stephanie’s head could have used a few stitches, but by the time she’d gotten to the hospital the wound was too old. A stretched ligament in her knee would take a while to heal. Otherwise, she’d been beyond lucky. “Damn,” Marcie said, “why does that stuff always happen to you? Are you okay?” “Because I’m a grade-A klutz. I’ll be fine. Actually, I was hoping to get a lift tomorrow to pick up my truck from the storage yard. I couldn’t drive it out after I slipped, so I had it towed.” “No problem. So did you get up to the peak at all? Decorate old Pete?” She snorted. “Yeah. I even took the...” She broke off, her eyes flying wide. Shit. “What?” “Nothing. It just wasn’t the same without you guys. So I’ll see you tomorrow?” When they hung up, her thoughts swung right back around to Thomas. Or rather, to the star stuck in the tree he dragged into his cabin for her. In her hurry she hadn’t remembered to take it. Although she downed two pain pills at bedtime, she stared into darkness until late that night. Thomas had left her at the station without a word. No goodbye. He’d said his piece to her on the bridge, she supposed, words that still seared her now. As much as she hadn’t wanted to hear him say it couldn’t work, she knew he was right. He

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was a vampire, of all unbelievable things. Someone who had killed people. Someone she should want no part of. But she’d seen beyond the monster, and she did want part of him. More than part. And he’d admitted he wanted her, too. She rolled onto her unbruised hip and watched flashing dots on the bedside clock tick away the seconds. Her bed felt foreign, and her life seemed like a shadow play that belonged to someone else. Had it only been two and a half days since she’d gone to the peak? Mere hours since she left behind an undead being that made her feel more alive, more female than any human man ever had? She groaned and sat up in bed, shifting her pillows into a more comfortable configuration. This train of thought would not pull into a station she could debark at. It was over between them. He’d told her sometimes she should see danger for what it was and steer clear. Advice she should be happy to take. Still, one piece of business remained between them. Though she was probably the last person Thomas would welcome at his front door, she’d already proven that she would rather risk death than lose hold of her best memories. Some mistakes were worth repeating.

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Chapter Seven After a breakfast of oatmeal and pain pills, Stephanie called the rescue station and then her office to request a couple days off to recover from her injuries. Next, she promptly went to work deconstructing as much of the damage as possible. She pulled the bulky gauze hospital bandage off her head and ducked into the steamy welcome of her own shower. The walk-in stall had no tub walls to hinder access, and her own toiletries finally erased the seeming indelible male scent that inundated her senses every time she moved. After shaving herself smooth and carefully blow-drying her hair into straight wisps of shiny blonde, she covered the scabbing, itchy cut on her scalp with Band-Aids hidden beneath a topknot styled into her hair. Instead of her usual routine of skipping makeup or tossing it on haphazardly, she took her time applying deliberate layers to give her skin a healthy blush and rimmed her bright green eyes with kohl for a smoky look. The black slacks she selected were tailored nicely to accentuate her hips and ass, but flared wide enough to camouflage the thermal leggings and neoprene knee brace secured beneath with Velcro from mid-thigh to calf. Layered knit sweaters of emerald green and black skimmed close to her torso, and she topped off her outfit with lined leather gloves and her good wool coat and hat. “Wow,” Marcie said when Stephanie finally tossed a backpack into her sister’s SUV and climbed in. “You sure are gussied up for a trip to the tow yard.” “Part of my strategy to distract people from my crappy new limp.” “It doesn’t work. You walk like the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz.”

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She eyed the older, brunette version of herself. “Thanks a lot.” “How bad is the leg?” “The E.R. doc said strained ligaments take time to heal. If it isn’t better in eight weeks, I’m supposed to ask for an MRI and orthopedics referral.” “That sucks. Good thing you have decent medical.” “Could be worse, I guess.” To Stephanie’s relief, their chatter devolved to small talk the rest of the way to the storage place. She had little desire to elaborate on the past few days, and it wasn’t like she could tell the truth about it, anyway. After Stephanie turned down an offer to push up their lunch date, they parted ways and she made a couple quick stops at the sporting goods store and gas station. She hadn’t had a clear idea of where Thomas lived, nor did she have any wish to find it by tracking the creek back from Stanton Peak. The rescue station had been kind enough to pinpoint roughly where the cabin was located. They also told her about an access road that came within one-eighth of a mile of his place, one scheduled to be snow-plowed that morning. During the hour drive she tried to relax, fiddling with radio stations until her local favorites turned to static. She shouldn’t feel so nervous. This was just a quick stop. She would thank Thomas again for saving her, since she hadn’t had a chance after the rangers got hold of her. Then she would ask for her father’s star and leave. Yes, she’d put quite a bit of effort into her appearance for such a short hop, but it wasn’t to glamour herself up so he’d regret what he was missing. She wanted him to see she wasn’t a weak, obsessed girl coming to beg for another chance, but a strong woman coming to retrieve an important family memento. A woman who was mature enough to handle seeing the man she’d slept with one night. He’d be disappointed when she failed to grovel at his feet and beg him to show her what a sexy, dangerous predator he could be.

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Still, the closer she drove to the X she’d marked on the gas station map, the louder her pulse thundered in her ears. Her façade was already crumbling. Sweat prickled her forehead, and a glance in the mirror showed damp strands of blonde had already pulled free of her careful style when she tossed her hat on the seat next to her. When the access road turnoff came into view, she pressed the brake and entertained a fleeting fantasy of turning around and forgetting the whole thing. Instead, she turned the wheel and followed the narrow two-lane road. The snow truck had indeed been through here, smoothing the way to an outcropping of boulders a few miles in. This was where the road apparently passed closest to Thomas’s cabin. She pulled half onto a shoulder comprised of a thick layer of icy mud, then switched off her engine and hoped she wouldn’t block any ranger vehicles. She glanced over at the giant bag from the sporting goods store, snarling a lip at the damage done to her credit card from the almost two-hundred-dollar snow shoes. Still, she’d learned her lesson and had no intention of rolling her body through the snow to get to his house. It took some finagling to get the rigid plastic flats over her snow boots, but finally she was ready. She grabbed her backpack and map, and then struck out for his place. It felt surreal to be back where she had fought for her life twice in as many days, out in the woods where she had both started and ended a relationship with a vampire. Sunlight danced in and out from behind puffy clouds, but sunglasses helped dim the glare off of the pristine blankets of white. Despite the warmer weather today, cold penetrated her fancier clothes more readily than when she’d been in her snow pants and oversized parka. No matter. She’d warm up plenty during the brief snowshoe session to his house. The snap of a twig shot fear into her already mounting tension, stopping her short. An image of dirty gray fur and yellow eyes pumped adrenaline through her veins, even though she knew the wolf incident had been a fluke. Besides, they were nocturnal by nature and

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rarely a threat to humans. Either way, she’d come prepared. She yanked the zipper on her backpack and pulled out the security club she normally locked across her steering wheel. If some creature should happen upon her, a greeting with a solid bar of steel might make them think twice about considering her an opportunistic lunch. When she glanced at the nearby woods, however, she saw only a doe frozen in place by her approach. If deer were out stripping bark, she likely had little to fear other than doing something idiotic when she got to Thomas’s place. She dropped the club back into her bag and slung it on her back, then resumed the slow, clumsy process of snowshoeing with a knee brace. After a couple hundred feet she spotted his cabin in the distance, and the sweat she’d broken making the trek picked up in earnest. The house took forever to grow closer on the horizon, but finally she was shuffling along the side of his cabin. Thanks to his shoveling efforts the snowshoes were unnecessary here, and rather than waddle up to his front door like a duck she leaned against his porch rail and unstrapped them from her feet. After getting her wind back, she left her gear and made her best effort to get to the front door without resembling any character from the Emerald City. Her sharp knock went unanswered, as did two more that followed. Was he out hunting? She tried the knob, but the door was locked. With a frown she wobbled to the window and peered in. The curtains were open, and she rubbed a hand over the glass for a clearer view. The tree still stood by the far wall. No fire blazed on the hearth, but then, there was no longer any need for one. She cocked her head when her gaze fell on his bureau. The drawers appeared to have been tugged open in a hurry and then left that way. Had he been robbed? Was he all right? She pounded on the door louder this time. “Thomas?” Rattling the knob and tugging the door hard did no good. Neither did trying to pull up on the window. “Damn.”

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She pulled off her jacket and wrapped it around her arm, then used her elbow to break a pane of glass. Fishing around with her arm plunged through the opening finally got the front door open, and she rushed inside. “Hello?” The bureau drawers were not only open, but empty. The rug was still thrown back from the entrance to the basement as it had been when she’d left, but she bypassed the opening long enough to check the kitchen and bath. Both were empty. She returned to the basement access, but despite her previous stubborn decision to haul herself up the ladder, she wasn’t anxious to make a run at it in reverse. “Thomas,” she called down. She went to the side table next to the front door, where she retrieved the flashlight she’d seen him use. She managed to get flat on her stomach and shined the light downstairs. He was not lying dead with a stake through his heart, thank God. He was not there at all. His bedding was askew, the way she thought they’d left it. Quite a few books were missing, and the chest of drawers downstairs stood empty as well. She snapped off the beam and rolled onto her back. There was only one obvious answer. Thomas was gone. He’d made good on his threat to abandon his home, all because he’d saved her life and she’d repaid him by finding out his secret. Tears rolled back into her hair while she lay there, wondering where he’d gone. Had she forced a vampire to return to civilization during his difficult winter period? Or did Thomas have other remote hideaways where he could pass the season without having to roll back his “Days without feeding mistake” sign to zero? She had no idea how long she lay there, staring into space while listening to utter quiet. After a while she simply rolled over and used his couch to pull herself to her feet. She hadn’t come here for Thomas, anyway. There was just one thing left to do, and then she could close this short, but confusing chapter of her life forever.

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She wandered over to the tree, breathing in the familiar pine scent. With a frown, she reached her hand into the branches, then shook the tree and checked the floor around it. “Gone,” she told the room. “He stole my damn star.” He had methodically emptied his life from the cabin and stopped long enough to swipe her reason for coming back, but he hadn’t thought to take down the tree? Bitter frustration welled up in her and exploded. She grabbed the tree, a storm of pine needles raining along the way while she dragged it to the door and pushed it through the opening. She struggled to get it out onto the porch, and with an angry yell heaved the tree out into the snow. When she came back inside, pieces of tree littered the neat cabin. Just like the way she’d dirtied up his neat, organized life. She slammed the door shut behind her on the way out, leaving it unlocked and with the window shattered beside it. She didn’t care. He’d stolen her heart, her dreams, and any hope that another man could measure up to the way she’d felt in his arms. To top it off, he’d taken her most treasured memory of her father. Wherever he’d gone, she hoped he was suffering for all of it as much as she was.

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Chapter Eight New Year’s Eve came on the heels of an endless parade of gray skies and well-wishers that Stephanie well wished would get back to business as usual already. In the few weeks since her return from the cabin, she’d fallen into the same anti-holiday funk her sister had been battling before the ill-fated trip to Stanton Peak. She and Marcie had agreed to ban the holidays, foregoing gifts and merriment of any kind. Unfortunately, the rest of the planet failed to do the same, and reminders of the season haunted her at every turn. She clicked the remote to shut off the television set, feeling no particular desire to watch the ball drop. A wrecking ball had already dropped on her life this month. The twitter of the telephone pulled her off the couch with a slight groan. Her knee still hurt some but had improved a good deal faster than doctors predicted. Apparently, avoiding repeated hikes through snowy terrain with wolves and assorted monsters did wonders for one’s health. She was greeted by Marcie’s, “Happy New Year.” Stephanie snarled her lip. “I thought we vetoed the holidays.” “Not this one. I figured we’d be happy to say a fond farewell to the end of a cold, bitter season.” Well, there was that. “Fair enough.” “Have you talked to Thomas?” Stephanie pulled the phone away and stared at it in shock for a moment before pressing it harder against her ear. She’d never mentioned Thomas to her sister. She hadn’t told anyone. “What did you say?”

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“I asked if you’ve called over to Mom’s. Quite the party going on.” She sighed in relief. “No. Nice to see someone in this family doesn’t seem to care Dad died during the holidays.” “She’s seeing someone from her salsa dancing class now.” “Salsa dancing? At her age?” “I try not to think about it. So, what are your big plans for ringing in the New Year?” “I plan to pop open a bubbling case of absolutely nothing and then go to bed early.” “Festive. Think I’ll do the same.” “Love you, Sis.” “Me, too.” She replaced the handset and headed for the kitchen. Maybe her bubbling case of nothing would go better with a bedtime snack. A soft rap on her front door startled her into a change of course. The view through her peephole sent her reeling into shock, and she whirled around to lean against her front door with as much stealth as she could. She didn’t have to open the door, she knew. She could pretend she wasn’t home, let him think she was off on a wild New Year’s Eve date. “Stephanie.” His muffled voice was quiet and low, as though he was fully aware she was right on the other side. She heaved a sigh and smoothed a hand over her stomach, neither of which calmed her erratic heartbeat. She glanced down, wishing she was wearing something less I’m-pathetic-with-no-life than flowery knit thermals and pink slipper socks. She unlatched her door to find Thomas looking a good deal more put together than she was, dressed in all black with a leather coat. “Can I come in?” His hair fell over one eye in a boyish style but was shorter and sleeker than she remembered. His highlights also seemed more

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pronounced. Guess his new hermit digs were within walking distance to a vampire hair salon. Convenient. She pushed open the door and let him pass, regretting it the instant she caught his scent mixed with the musk of leather. She felt every hair on her arms prickle in response to his masculine presence, and she rubbed them to make the goose bumps go away. They were halfway down the hall when he whirled on her. “I won’t stay,” he said. “I have something for you.” He reached into his coat and pulled out an item that widened her gaze. “You took it with you when you left the cabin.” He glanced away. “So, you did go back there. I thought you might.” She nodded. “The next day.” She took the star from him and waggled it. “To get this.” “I packed out as soon as I got back from the rescue station.” He wandered into her living room, but she stayed put. “I couldn’t stay there.” A twinge of indigestion flamed behind her sternum. “I know. Because you didn’t trust me not to tell anyone.” He shook his head. “I didn’t trust me to stay there at Memories Central without wanting to come find you.” She hugged the star to her front. “So instead you left there and decided to come find me anyway. How did you find me?” “It wasn’t hard. You’re the only Stephanie Mars listed in the area.” “Oh.” She followed him into the room, setting Pops’ star down on an end table on the way. “You’re walking better,” he said. “Thanks.” She felt his eyes on her and she realized just how thin and clingy her thermals were. She grabbed a bathrobe off the back of the couch and shrugged it on, then folded her arms across her chest and waited

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for him to say something. Silence stretched between them for long seconds, each one ticking away with the beat of her heart. The sound reminded her how the ball continued to drop on her love life. At last he cleared his throat and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. “It’s been rough the past few weeks.” She felt her jaw clench. “Really.” Something flashed in his gaze. “Yes, really. I’ve done a lot of thinking. Done some rather impulsive things.” He pulled a hand from his pocket and glanced down at his palm. “That’s saying something for a guy my age.” He held out his hand and she saw two long, ivory-colored points tinged with blood. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God, Thomas. You didn’t.” “Extracting your own fangs isn’t pleasant, trust me.” He jiggled them in his hand before replacing them in his pocket. “Unfortunately, it also doesn’t work.” He leaned closer, flashing a smile showing even, perfect teeth. She watched while two jagged points erupted right through his upper gums. When the new fangs descended, she jerked back with a gasp. He saw the motion and pulled away from her, and the fangs retracted. “Had I bothered to ask,” he went on, “I’d have learned fangs grow back within a couple of days. Survival trait.” He tapped his regular teeth. “Any of these could fall out and I’d be shit out of luck, but the thing that most separates me from a real life will make sure to stick around for all eternity.” Her mouth actually throbbed in sympathy. “I can’t imagine how painful it must have been.” “Not as painful as realizing I’d done it for nothing.” His blue eyes threatened to lose her in dangerous depths, so she focused on his chiseled jaw instead. “Doesn’t it hurt to have fangs push through your gums every time like that?”

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“Remember what I said about vampire bites?” He paused, and she arched a brow to get him to continue. “It’s not unpleasant, let’s put it that way.” “So it turns you on when they break through.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Vampires are just loaded with handy skills, aren’t they?” “All animals are masterpieces of nature, in their own way.” The thought mutated into something she couldn’t resist asking. “So you guys can like, bite yourselves as a masturbation aid?” Amusement flickered in his gaze. “I’ve never considered it, but I’m sure some other vampire out there has.” She rested her hands on her hips. “Oh, come on. With as strong as your saliva is and as little sex as you claim to get, you’ve never thought of trying it?” His smile erupted into a laugh that curled her toes. “It doesn’t have quite as much effect on us as it does on humans, but now that you’ve planted the suggestion I’m sure it will come to mind next time. Thanks a lot.” Her cheeks burned, and she swore mentally. The guy had been in her house all of two minutes and she’d managed to turn the topic to sex. Thomas was right about her. She was a bad influence on his wild side. She scowled and pulled her robe tighter against her, and his smile faded. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye,” he said. “I figured you’d said your goodbye to me out on the bridge.” “No.” A tingle of awareness flooded her side when he brushed past her to pick up the star. “I still haven’t managed to say goodbye to you.” Her heart thudded while he turned the star over in his hands. He looked up to find her watching him, then laid the star back down and folded his arms.

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“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, nodding toward the table. “Why did you take my star with you when you left?” “A moment of weakness. I seem to have a lot of those where you’re concerned.” He glanced around her apartment, and she wondered if he was noticing how different her modern gadget-andmemento-laden world looked from his own. “It was another one of the impulsive things I mentioned doing.” “So it wasn’t because you’d planned to drop it by on your way out of town.” “I’d planned to keep it as a reminder.” “Of past mistakes?” “Of you.” Her stomach balled up, and she felt her tightly checked emotions begin to unravel. But she couldn’t let them. He’d dashed her hopes of a future for them, and even hearing he had suffered didn’t make her feel better about it. Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?” “I came to return your star.” “You could have mailed it, or put it on the doorstep and left.” “I wanted to see you.” She willed her heart to close out the soul-searing power of his eyes. “What for? So you could screw with my head some more?” He furrowed his brow. “Your head? I’m here because you screwed with mine.” “Uh-uh.” She uncrossed her arms and rounded the couch to put distance between them. “I simply admitted I was attracted to you and hoped we could work things out. But you told me in painstaking detail exactly how you extrapolated our future. You insisted we couldn’t be together and then left me without even a ‘Good luck’ at the ranger station. Bottom line, you made your feelings very clear. So again I say, why the hell are you here?” His volume ratcheted up to match hers. “Because I never made my feelings clear. I made my logic clear.” He pulled the teeth from

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his pocket and held them up to her. “These are my feelings. I want to be with you so damn bad I ripped out my own fangs to try and turn myself into something I’m not. Someone worthy of loving you, without the risk of doing something that would kill us both.” He threw the teeth, and she heard them rattle and scatter on the hardwood floor. “I came here because I’m not being logical anymore. All I can do is feel.” He turned away and started for the door. “And it feels like shit.” “Wait.” Her bad knee banged the end table in her hurry to go after him, and she limped the rest of the way while uttering a string of curses. “Stop. I’m sorry.” He turned and swore at the sight of her wincing. “See, I come around and already you get hurt.” “You didn’t hurt my knee. I wouldn’t be here to hobble around on it like an idiot if you hadn’t saved my life.” “I know I shouldn’t have come, but I had to see you again.” He stared down at her with such a tender expression that a lump rose in her throat. “But I can’t change what I am. Nothing is different.” “We’re different,” she said. “We can make things between us any way we want them to be.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid to risk trying.” She reached a hand up to stroke his smooth face. He felt warm to the touch. “I’d rather have us try together than for you to leave me again.” He closed his eyes and leaned into her palm while her hand sought the sharp contours of his jaw. Then he turned his head and pressed his lips against her palm. “Thomas,” she whispered. “Kiss me.” His eyes glittered with tears. “I can’t.” She rose up on tiptoe, and though he held himself stiff she pulled his head to hers. Her entire body sang in joyous relief when their lips melted against one another. After pressing kisses along his lower lip, she felt his tongue flick out and seek hers. She moaned and let her

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tongue sweep out to join his. Her hands slid inside his coat, along his strong shoulders to push the jacket off of them. When it fell to the floor she shrugged off her robe and snaked her hands into his silken hair. He growled, but the growl of a man impassioned. He grabbed her hips and lifted her until her legs wrapped around his back, then brought her over to the couch without losing the momentum of their fevered kiss. “You’re always carrying me,” she said against his lips. “I’m always in a hurry with you.” He slid her down to a stand. With a crackle of static electricity he peeled the thermals from her body. Her nipples were already stiff and tingling when he found them with his tongue. She could barely yank his clothing off fast enough, moaning in delight when her hand found his huge cock straining toward her. She milked it with her hand until he sucked in a breath and pushed her away. Stephanie’s sex throbbed for him while he sat her down on the couch. She laid back, her wet thighs spread and eager for him to push himself inside her. It had all happened in a blur of hands and tongues, just a few minutes from when he’d been ready to go out her front door forever to having her naked and writhing on the couch. She couldn’t get enough of him, and her body arched and hips thrust while he stood over her, not giving her what she wanted. His body was magnificent, slick with the sweat of his rising heat, his cock bobbing and veined in an obvious need to plunge inside her. She heard his ragged breaths and wondered what he was waiting for. Then her eyes found his and she saw the hesitation in blue-gold depths, the shadow of fear on his face. “I don’t need a wild animal to fuck me,” she said, stroking her body with seductive motions that lured his gaze down toward her sex. “Show me the man who is falling head over for me.” When she spread her labia the gold of his eyes brightened, then tinged red. His groan sounded almost agonized. Then he was there,

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his tongue laying a trail along her neck while he thrust himself inside her with a long, hard motion. He pushed his hips against her like a man possessed not by a feral creature, but by a need for her that circumvented all his misgivings. “I fell head over the moment I saw you,” he murmured into her hair. “I love you.” Her first orgasm was already building in a chaotic swirl when she saw the fangs descend. “I love you,” she told him. She felt his motions grow erratic, pensive. “And I trust you. I trust us.” His growl changed into that of the animal, but she murmured encouragement and kept thrusting her hips up to meet his. “Stephanie.” His ass was slapping against her so hard she felt herself ready to leave her body when her impending orgasm hit. “God, I want to fucking bite you.” She felt him quiver with the admission. The words both frightened and excited her, and despite all he’d warned her about, she wanted the exact same thing. “I know,” she said in short bursts as he pounded his cock into her. “But you won’t. We need each other more than we need that.” His rhythm drove her over the edge and she came with a shout, dimly aware that she had arched her back and exposed her throat to him. His head nuzzled her neck, his tongue licking her throat while she convulsed in ecstasy. Her muscles contracting in pleasure around him doubled his frantic rhythm, and soon after he pulled back from her neck. Then he came, letting out a loud cry that aroused her like no sound she’d ever heard. His climax seemed to only make his cock harder, and he kept moaning and thrusting. She slid against the burning heat of his torso and wrapped her legs around his thighs, her hands roaming his back and arms to feel corded muscles flexing while he fucked her. When he pushed her arms up over her head and bent down, she stretched back so he could take her nipple in his mouth. She felt no graze, no sharp prick of teeth. He sucked the hard nub of flesh and flicked his tongue

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over it while he rocked his pelvis against her clit. When she tightened up and exploded in another orgasm, he kept thrusting into her until her moans subsided, then he pulled his cock out of her and threw his head back. His shout of release was half-animal, half-man while his hot seed shot over her stomach and chest. When he was spent he sat back on the couch, pulling her to a sit beside him and raining kisses over her forehead, nose, and cheeks. Her hands automatically went to her stomach to rub his slick cream into her skin while she kissed him. His smile when they parted lit all the dark corners of her heart. “See?” she said. “You didn’t bite.” His eyes bore a tinge of guilt. “That’s not exactly true.” She frowned, glancing down at herself in panic. He held out his forearm and her eyes widened. “You bit yourself?” He shrugged. “Someone I know suggested it. Thought I’d try it rather than take a chance.” She stared at the two holes. “So it worked?” “You seem to have stumbled on an interesting solution to the bite fetish.” He kissed her again. “I can’t believe I never thought of it before.” She grinned at him. “Yeah, well, I’m a fucking genius.” “A fucking genius?” His hand slipped between her legs and she felt his fingers circle her clit. “I wholeheartedly agree.” She leaned her head back against the couch with a moan, then closed her eyes and pressed his hand tighter against her. Her arousal spiked in an instant, her sex pulsing with need. “It’s a play on words,” she said, her speech stilted by her increased panting. “I’m damn witty that way. Get used to it.” He stopped fondling her, and she groaned disappointment and opened her eyes. “I plan to. If you’ll let me.” A swell of emotion rose in her chest. “So you’re willing to give us a chance?”

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To answer her, he pinched and kneaded her breasts, and soon he was kneeling in front of her with his head between her thighs. She rubbed her pelvis against him while his tongue drove her to another frenzied climax. Her shout of “Thomas!” rang out with the first stroke of midnight, and her grandfather clock finished chiming out the hour while she shuddered and came against the man she loved. She dragged him up to sit beside her on the couch and kissed him, tasting her musk on his lips while her hand found his erection. “Happy New Year,” he said in a husky voice. “The happiest.” She bent her head to his cock. “And it’s about to get happier. Better get that arm ready.” They were the last words spoken between them until well into the night, when the dawn of a New Year was celebrated with a toast of red wine and whispers between lovers sharing their most intimate and need-to-know secrets.

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Epilogue Almost two years later The front door banged open, and the two of them laughed as Thomas carried Stephanie inside the cabin. “You don’t have to keep doing this,” she said with a teasing tone. “I do have legs, you know.” He grinned, warming her from within despite the frosty cold they’d just weathered. “Yes, and very sexy ones. But I like carrying you inside after our celebrations on the peak. It’s kind of become a holiday tradition. But if you insist,” he set her down, “I’ll restrain myself.” She smoothed a hand down the front of his cherry red pullover. “Thanks for wearing the sweater Sis got you last year. And the pendant you got her is stunning. It was very thoughtful of you. I didn’t even realize you’d done any Christmas shopping. I’m impressed with your sneakiness.” Thomas shrugged and helped her off with her heavy parka. “We vampires are a sneaky lot. And I did my shopping early, before heading up here for the winter.” She hung her coat on a peg hook near the door and stuffed her leather gloves in the pocket. While she tugged the hem of her powder blue sweater down over the waist of her white snow pants, she glanced around the cabin at the familiar worn couch, braided rugs, and hand-hewn wood furnishings. She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad we came up here last summer. I confess I miss this place all year when you’re living up in the city.”

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“Yes, well, this has been a winter home only for quite a while. Plus it’d be a bit harder for us to see one another if I was out here full time.” She sighed. “True. I just have lots of fond memories here. Though I suppose I’d go stark bonkers from the isolation if you were here year-round.” He moved beside her and took her chin in his hands. “I don’t know. I rather like having you up here all to myself, keeping me warm in the winter.” She ran a hand along his broad shoulder. “It does have some major pluses.” He raised a brow at her mischievous grin. “And it is to my own best interest to make sure you are warm at all times, for obvious reasons.” He lifted her chin and grazed his lips along her neck. “Right, because when I’m hot it means I’m doing something like this?” The feel of his mouth on her skin sent a shiver of delight down her spine. “Maybe. But also because I don’t want cold feet next to me when I sleep over.” He growled in fake protest, nipped her ear playfully and reached a hand around to slap her bottom. The cabin had cooled quite a bit since they’d put out the fireplace and gone to meet Marcie and her beau for the annual gift exchange up on Stanton Peak, where they decorated old Pete, toasted marshmallows on the camp stove, and toasted the joy of another fulfilling year. Still, it was a lot warmer now than when she was working her desk job during the week and unable to visit. He seemed to read her thoughts. “I’ll stoke the fire,” he said, holding his hand out. “You want to do the honors?” She waggled a suggestive brow. “You can stoke my fire any time.” She smiled and took her father’s star, which had graced Pete the Pine during the festivities on the peak. The decoration was smooth and well-varnished now, to protect the wood that had become brittle and riddled with tiny cracks after its fateful journey down the creek.

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Instead of heading to the fireplace, Thomas stood and watched while she took the star over to the tree standing in the corner. Simple white lights adorned the fragrant spruce, along with cranberries and popcorn strands. She meant to replace the star where it had sat high among the branches, but paused with a puzzled look when she spotted something nestled in its place. “What’s this?” She reached into the branches and pulled out a red velvet box, square and small enough to nestle in the palm of her hand. His voice came from right behind her. “I did some other shopping before I came up here, too.” Stephanie could actually see her heartbeat pounding through the knit of her powder blue sweater while she stared down at the box in her hand. She swallowed down butterflies. Thomas laughed. “Aren’t you going to open it?” She blinked. “My hands suddenly forgot how to work.” He moved in front of her with a chuckle and took the box from her trembling fingers. “No problem. I’m something of a traditionalist, anyway.” With that he dropped to one knee and opened the box lid. The diamond shimmered in the light of the Christmas tree, its starry glint blurring when tears rose in her eyes. She blinked them away hard and focused on Thomas, who tossed back his streaked bangs and glanced around the cabin the way she’d done not long before. “When I lived here as a human long ago,” he said, “I thought of marrying someday. But that time never came, and then my life ended.” He paused and turned back to her, gazing up with the intense, aquamarine stare that always pierced through to her soul. “In the century since then, I’ve never considered taking a wife. Now, I can’t think of anything else.” Her stomach fluttered while Thomas pulled the ring out and set the box down on the floor. “I love you, Stephanie. Marry me. We can

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live here in the winter, at one of our places in the city the rest of the year, whichever way you want. I just want to be with you. Forever.” The tears rose again in her eyes, obscuring her view of the sincere passion evident in his expression. “I don’t have forever to offer an immortal,” she said. “Just the rest of my life.” He smiled. “Which is more than I deserve. But all I could ever want.” She turned her father’s star over in her hands with reverence, and then tucked it into its rightful place among the tree branches. When she turned back to Thomas he stood before her, his eyes questioning. With a smile she held out her left hand to him and whispered, “Yes, Thomas. God yes.” He somehow got the ring on her while kissing her feverishly at the same time. The stone was brilliant, and she did a double take when she wiggled her finger to watch it catch the light. “It looks like…” “A star,” he finished. “The cut of the facets makes it look like there’s a star inside the diamond.” He shrugged. “I hope that’s not too cheesy. It just seemed fitting, since a star is what brought you to me.” Her heart brimmed with emotion and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “It’s perfect. And so beautiful. Thank you.” As they stood together by the tree, Stephanie floating on the moment, a recent conversation came to mind. “This is why you brought up your aging thing again the other day, isn’t it?” He nodded. “It won’t be an issue for a while, but eventually it will help our situation.” She frowned. “You wouldn’t actually age, though?” “No. It’d just be an illusion, a glamour everyone would see including you. That way we would appear to be aging naturally.” “You vampires do have all the handy skills.” He turned to face her. “Are you okay with this?” “Eventually any couple will be separated by the death of a spouse. We would just know up front which one of us that would be.”

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“Probably. If you can live with that.” He paused. “Or we can discuss the other option later.” “I can live with it,” she said. “But you would consider changing me later if that’s what I wanted?” She searched his face carefully. “Would you really recommend it?” “It is a difficult existence, I won’t lie. I wish I’d have been given a choice. But there are times I am very glad for the advantage. You’ll want to stay human for a while, at least, to bear children?” She grinned. “Of course. At least seven or eight.” He feigned shock. “Eight children?” “Eight years, silly. Before I plan to worry about changing or not. I figure I still have that many good-looking years left.” “If you were human and a hundred and one I’d kiss every wrinkle.” He put on a serious expression. “That just leaves one vital question.” She raised a brow. “What?” “Are you going to let me carry you over the threshold one more time, say this time next year?” Her grin almost split her face in two. “You mean a holiday wedding up on the peak?” “Unless you have something else in mind.” She shook her head. “It’s a date.” With that she found herself back in his arms. Despite the fact that Thomas had never relit the fireplace as promised, the heat of his body and lips stoked her fire nonetheless. Sometime during their lovemaking, in between peeling off their clothes and Thomas lifting her to straddle his cock right where they stood, Stephanie flashed back on a memory of the night she realized there was no holiday moment more magical than a vampire kissing her in front of Christmas tree. Until now.

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THE END HTTP://JROSEALLISTER.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR When not dreaming up tales of seasonal romance in unlikely places, J. Rose Allister whiles away her holidays making fudge and baking with her family in Southern California.

Also by J. Rose Allister PolyAmour: Kata Sutra Siren Classic: Bewitching Love Siren Allure: Sinful Ella and the Wolf Siren Allure: Immortal Paradise 1: Suite Seduction

Available at BOOKSTRAND.COM

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com