THUNDER AND LIGHTNING

Calista Fox

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

One of the most exciting things about being a writer is the freedom to create myths and legends that form the basis of a plot. Altering reality can be tricky, but I've found that if you share with the reader what you know about the world and characters you've created, they'll happily travel the fictitious road with you.

Thanks to all of the readers of erotic romance, and particularly those who love paranormal stories as much as I love writing them!

Also, thanks as always to my fabulous editor, Bree. Working with you and the rest of the EC folks is always a pleasure. I hope we end up with another award-winning story!

CHAPTER 1

Immortal being Bevelyn Goitia was due a fresh start. Staying too long in one place when those around her aged and she did not called for her to uproot her life every few years and start anew. Savannah, Georgia seemed like a promising place for her to spend the next decade of her extended existence. But the dark cloud that descended upon the coastal southern town with her arrival was a bit disconcerting. The forecast declared clear, sunny summer skies, yet it had been muggy and overcast since she'd come to town three days ago and settled into the beautiful Victorian she'd just purchased.

Today had been the worst of it.

No. This very second was the worst.

Two fast-moving plumes of doom overhead were on a collision course from opposite directions. A peculiar spectacle that would baffle the local meteorologists. One that threatened to eclipse the moon and which also reminded her of the lore of her ancestors, which she'd never heeded until this very second. The mysterious storm setting in this evening hinted at an impending predicament she'd never anticipated experiencing.

Being an immortal descendant of the ancient Aztec rain god Tlaloc, she was conscious of dramatic changes in the weather, always curious of their origin. Particularly freak thunderstorms.

A disturbing thought tickled the back of her brain now as she stood in her driveway, her gaze shifting from the bleak sky to the black Mercedes that rolled to a stop next door.

Ah shit.

A quick glance back at the storm brewing overhead made her wary of her heritage. She thought about the scrolls she coveted in her personal library, all of which spoke of the alleged mystical phenomenon of Tlaloc's effect on the weather, depending on his various lascivious moods.

Lust caused the clouds to roll in.

Desire made the thunder rumble across the sky.

Passion incited the riotous electricity that illuminated the night.

Love triggered the fat raindrops that sated the parched earth.

The embracement of these romantic emotions returned the weather to its natural state. Released the sun from its shield of clouds and let it shine bright.

Bevelyn was by no means as powerful as Tlaloc had once been, as his spirit continued to be. Nor had she ever experienced any of the four fervent emotions to the extent that she impacted nature's elements.

Hell, in her six-hundred-plus years of existence, she'd yet to experience an orgasm that could be classified as “earth-shattering”.

Admittedly, she enjoyed the romanticized history of those who'd come before her, whose spirits still lingered in the heavens above. Though, in truth, the power to rule the climate wasn't a legend she fully believed in.

And yet…

She lowered her gaze again and it landed on the dark, devilishly handsome man who slid gracefully from the seat of his car.

Cane McAllister.

Her new neighbor and hottie extraordinaire.

He was dangerously cool. Shockingly perfect from head to toe. A masterpiece sculpted with great care, yet infused with a predatory spirit that spoke to Bevelyn. He looked as sleek and stealthy as a panther, with eyes as smooth and shiny as obsidian stones.

Eyes that connected with hers and held fast. Making every gut instinct inside her go on high alert.

At the exact same time every inch of her turned warm and molten.

Excitement rippled through her. Her nipples tightened behind the plain white cups of her bra. She wore sensible cotton lingerie due to the sweltering heat and humidity that raged through Savannah. But the practical, once-comfortable undergarments suddenly felt confining, making her long to be stripped bare by the scorching-hot man standing forty feet away from her.

She could imagine his large, strong hands on her body, bringing pleasure with every stroke, every caress. The need to feel his hard muscles melded to her soft curves rose within her, making her long for his weight on her body, pressing her into a mattress. Taking her with impassioned fervor, driving his thick cock deep until…

Bevelyn bit back a gasp. And a sigh of longing.

She felt the convergence of gray haze overhead as much as she saw it in the form of the cumulus clouds blocking out the moonlight and casting dark shadows across her lawn. Her body vibrated in a peculiar way, as though a bolt of electricity chased down her lightning rod of a spine, sending electrical jolts to her most sensitive erogenous zones. Targeting that much-neglected spot between her parted legs. Her clit tingled with a sensation that was almost foreign to her, while her pussy throbbed with an intensity she'd not felt in…

Hmm.

She hadn't felt this shaken to the core of her being, this turned-on…ever.

Letting out a ragged breath, Bevelyn's gaze took in every tall, sinewy, powerful inch of her neighbor.

She'd already heard the women in town talking up a storm about him. No pun intended. She could hardly blame them. Even with a lush courtyard sprawled between her and Cane, she felt an erotic shudder that shimmied through her body from her head to her toes.

As the clouds darkened in color and the thunder rumbled in the distance she couldn't help but wonder, Am I making this happen?

True, Cane was, without doubt, the most sexually potent, disturbingly attractive man she'd ever laid eyes on. But seriously… She was a six-hundred-year-old immortal being. The man standing in the adjacent driveway should not be affecting her so vehemently!

“Strange storm we're having,” her hotter-than-hell neighbor said. His deep, intimate voice drifted on the warm breeze, seemingly surrounding her.

An understatement, really, for his voice seeped into her very soul.

A sharp crack of thunder overhead made Bevelyn jump.

“Not just a midsummer squall?” she asked, hopeful.

He shook his head, causing a lock of longish, black-as-night hair to dislodge and sweep across his forehead. “Been here long enough to know it's not typical weather this time of year.”

“Well, then. Strange indeed,” she muttered, her pulse accelerating.

He took a wide step toward her. Bevelyn took a step back.

“Need some help?” he asked.

“Got it under control,” she assured him. Her car was loaded with groceries and household items she'd just purchased. She hefted a paper bag into her arms as if it created some sort of barrier between them.

Yeah, right. She could practically feel his commanding presence enveloping her, swallowing her up, making her want to meld to his body, surrender to his heat and sensuality. Yield to his unspoken promise of gratification and ecstasy.

“I'm Cane McAllister,” he said as he continued to advance on her, as though stalking his prey. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

“Bevelyn Goitia,” she replied automatically, forcing herself to hold her ground. Despite the fact that the thunder rumbled low and ominous, like a warning. Her breathing became shallow, a bit strained. “Friends call me Bev.”

“Nice to meet you, Bev.” His tone was rich and sensual. A sultry summer caress on her bare arms and legs. A whisper of a touch against the nape of her neck. A tickle along her sensitive clit.

He came to a halt before her, his onyx eyes remaining locked with hers, stirring all kinds of riotous emotions that left her head reeling and her body aching for him. An altogether overwhelming and wholly unfamiliar reaction. Yet enticing and heady all the same.

“Sure I can't help?” There was a seductive note of suggestion in his tone. One that tempted her as much as it terrified her.

Bev's male companions over the centuries had all been chosen based on intellect and ambition. Not Buns of Steel. She didn't doubt Cane was intelligent and driven—the determination and worldliness glowing in his dark eyes convinced her there was more to this man than orgasm-inspiring brawn. But the latter was what tempted her the most, and she innately felt the need to keep her distance from this dangerously alluring man.

So she gave a slight shake of her head at the offer he'd extended. “I can manage, thanks.” Yet for all her independent bravado, her voice sounded breathy and lustful.

That explains the clouds.

She cringed inwardly. Maintaining her distance and keeping the courtyard between them would be her best bet, though it was a little late to exercise that precautionary measure. The man was mere inches from her. And goddamn did he smell good! Like virility and power and passion all rolled together with a hint of Hugo Boss that made the blood rush through her body like a river of fire. The raw intensity of the scent—of the man himself—teased her senseless and awakened dark desires she'd suppressed for centuries.

But she knew she had to keep her suddenly raging hormones under control. She wasn't able to give into her lust on a mere whim. Bev wasn't like Cane McAllister…or any other human, for that matter.

A valid point that resonated deeply when she shifted the bag in her arms. The kitchen knife she'd bought escaped its protective sheath and the serrated edge slit the brown paper, slicing across her palm. There was little pain associated with the wound, but as the blood began to pour from her hand—and Cane's handsome face became a mask of hard angles and his eyes lit with a wild, almost animalistic glint—she remembered the need to be shocked. To pretend to be in agony.

Because that's how a mortal would react.

Dropping the bag as though it were a delayed reaction to her surprise and suffering, she balled the damaged hand and clutched it with her good one. But Cane's own hand shot out and he gripped her wrist firmly.

“Let me see.” His voice was rough, edgy. Pulling the injured palm toward him, he carefully unfurled her clenched fingers, his strong hands much more gentle than she'd anticipated from such a powerful-looking man. And shockingly cool, given the warm, humid weather.

As he stared down at the crimson river flowing along her ravaged flesh, a strange hissing sound welled from deep within him and seemed to lodge in his throat. Bev realized he was one of those sorts to have an adverse reaction to the sight and smell of blood.

She could cross “doctor” off the list of potential occupations for her gorgeous neighbor.

“You're going to need a bandage for that,” he said in a tight voice. He seemed to have trouble breathing.

Bev nodded absently as she pulled her hand from his—more so because his touch did unexplainably riotous things to her clit—and pressed the sliced appendage to her stomach, where she clutched the taupe-colored, linen material of her dress. Ruining it.

“Maybe stitches,” he said as he took a step backward.

“No,” she was quick to say. “It's not that bad. And I…heal…quickly.”

His eyes narrowed on her a moment, but it was as though her words barely registered in his mind. The black eyes that captivated her so shimmered with a strange backlighting—an internal light she'd never seen before.

Couldn't attribute it to the moonlight, because it was basically scarce. And the low wattage of the triple-globed porch lamp didn't emit enough light to reach them this far away.

As her mouth gaped at the mysterious phenomenon, his head snapped away.

To break their visual connection? Or was it the sight of her blood that disturbed him?

Bev's insides coiled tight at the peculiarity of the moment. But Cane quickly composed himself and turned back to her.

“Bandage,” he reminded her. “I'll take care of this stuff.” He knelt down to collect the spilled contents of the grocery bag, managing to scoop them up in the portion of the bag that was still intact. He stood and stared at her.

“Seriously,” he said, his voice tight and somewhat contrite, as if he was appalled by his initial reaction to her fresh wound. “Let me help you.”

She nodded.

Though she felt foolish because of her clumsiness, she was mostly alarmed that her own response to the cut might be questionable. Not that Cane would ever suspect the truth about her. Still. The secret of her immortality was one she held close, for with the promise of an eternal existence came the threat of imminent death if anyone should find out her true identity.

One of the rules of the game that kept the order in the land of the supernatural.

She'd played along for centuries, though. Knew how to act mortal.

Wincing from the “pain”, she turned to the house and rushed up the stairs of the wraparound porch. Cane was hot on her heels and reached around her to open the door. Inside, Bev hurried to the kitchen sink and washed the blood from her hands and wrists.

But… Damn! She didn't have any bandages or antiseptic. What the hell would she need them for, anyway? She healed a million times faster than the infected finger in the Neosporin commercial.

Wrapping a dishrag around her hand, she turned back to her neighbor and lied.

Double damn.

He was concerned about her and all she could say was, “I've got a first-aid kit upstairs. I'll be back in a minute.”

“I'll get the rest of your groceries from the car.”

“Thanks.” She dashed out of the kitchen and up the two flights of stairs to her room. Once there, she glanced around frantically.

What to use to cover her hand so that he wouldn't see she was no longer bleeding? That the cut was already beginning to heal, the skin already sealing? Her gaze landed on the blue painter's tape she'd been using this week to block the far wall before she rolled a fresh coat of “Yellow Daisies” over the boring off-white color currently making the room too stark for words.

She grabbed a couple of tissues from the bathroom, folded them in half, then used the blue tape to secure them in place over her palm. Groaning at the makeshift bandage, she wondered how in hell she'd survived everyday mishaps without drawing suspicion from her last roommate.

Oh yeah. She and Camden Shelton had both worked fourteen-hour days to get ahead in their respective careers—one of the many she'd had over the decades—and barely had time to share everyday life, let alone mishaps. As was the case with all of her previous companions.

Changing into shorts and a T-shirt, she returned to the kitchen and found all of the perishable items stored in the refrigerator. But the granite-topped island was covered with household stuff Cane clearly didn't know where to stow. The offensive knife lay in the sink, washed of all blood.

And the knight in shining armor looked more on edge than before.

Definitely not a doctor.

His black eyes landed on her hand and a dark eyebrow lifted.

Bev couldn't help but smile at the awkward-looking bandage. “Couldn't find the first-aid kit. Must be in one of the boxes I have yet to unpack.”

“Sure you don't need to go to the hospital for stitches?”

“Oh no,” she was quick to say. “I wrapped it tight and the blood was already starting to clot. I really am a quick healer. Runs in the family.”

Okay, bring it down a notch. Sufficient enough explanation provided… “Well, let me know if you need anything,” Cane said, still looking off kilter. Unsettled. He shifted abruptly on the heels of his black leather boots and sauntered off, leaving Bev in her kitchen as the ever-persistent clouds lingered outside and the thunder snapped.

The front door had barely closed when the distant crackle of lightning filled her ears, warning her of trouble to come.

CHAPTER 2

The scent wafting on the sultry evening breeze was now a disturbingly familiar one.

Her blood teased him, taunted him, tormented him. The rich aroma infiltrated his vampire senses and heightened his already too-intense arousal.

Made his cock strain against the zipper of his pants, demanding freedom. To drive deep and please.

Made his fangs threaten to protrude. To drive deep and drink.

A low snarl tore from Cane's parted lips. Stalking the front portion of his wraparound veranda, his stride long and stealthy, he felt tortured to the core of his undead being.

He'd only spoken with his new neighbor once since she'd moved in, but that was enough. He already knew too much about the woman who'd bought the pristine Victorian beside his restored Colonial. Both homes edged the resuscitated Thomas Square Streetcar Historic District in downtown Savannah. Their side verandas faced each other, separated by a manicured courtyard carpeted with lush green grass and dotted by tall oak trees. Spanish moss dripped from the thick branches of the hundred-year-old trees, but neither provided an ample buffer from the haunting presence he could neither evade nor escape.

Cane had a perfect view of the Victorian rising up three stories beside him. Along with the tall French doors on the west side that were cracked open this evening, which he presumed led to her bedroom.

Another dark noise ripped from his mouth at the thought of Bevelyn Goitia. And her intoxicating blood.

Moonflower and amaryllis typically competed with each other as the prevailing alluring scent this time of year. But not since she'd arrived. Her blood—her very essence —seemed to be all he inhaled these days.

He'd learned she was a corporate headhunter who'd been wooed by an international firm, lured to Savannah with a promotion and a large corner office with a bay view. She'd bought the house next to his. Was redecorating it at night.

Those particulars, which he'd easily gleaned this past week, were inconsequential to him. What resonated within Cane was the hypnotic scent of her blood, hopelessly trapped in his nostrils following the knife-cut incident three days earlier. Not to mention her equally intoxicating beauty. Her shimmering, pale green eyes. Her thick, lush-looking, dark auburn hair. Her artistically sculpted face that showcased high cheekbones and full, plump, ruby-red lips.

Lips he could practically feel pressed to his. Lips he could easily imagine gliding over his skin, wrapping around his cock, pleasuring him until he was wild with desire and need.

And her body… Holy hell. To have it beneath his. Or on top of him…

Those lush curves were designed to star in the darkest, most erotic fantasies.

He should know. Wicked thoughts of her looped in his mind practically every waking second. And what he'd done to her as she'd haunted his dreams, morning after morning this past week, was nothing short of pure, unadulterated sin.

He'd plunged deep, taking her every way imaginable, making her scream and beg for more.

Leaving him desperate to oblige in reality.

But damn it! She was human.

Cane scowled as he turned sharply on his booted heels and paced in the opposite direction. How was it possible, after two-hundred-and-twenty-seven years of immortal existence—and after all the painful lessons he'd learned along the way—that a human could stir his senses in such an overwhelming, unrelenting way?

Elicit a riot of groin-straining sensations that made him half out of his mind with wanting her?

She was a mortal, for Christ's sake.

He was a vampire.

Yet already he knew the innate attraction that existed between them was impossible to deny. Not only could he feel his desire and need for her to the depths of the soul he'd fought so hard to restore, but he could see the passion he stirred within her when he looked deep into her mesmerizing, peridot-colored eyes.

The vampire and the human were a powder keg and a match just waiting to be lit!

And he'd burn in hell if he got too close to her. Because her scent alone drove him wild, made him damn near forget all the rules by which he lived.

One taste of her skin, her lips, her blood… Hell would become a picnic for the torture he'd suffer.

Because he could never truly have her.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he raked a hand through his hair. Fate could be so goddamn cruel.

As it was, he couldn't have gotten away from her quickly enough upon that first meeting. When the scent of her had infiltrated every crack and crevice of his body, mind and soul. Her blood had oozed onto his hands as he'd uncurled her injured fist and he'd nearly lost all control. Despite his trained aversion to human blood.

Bev was different than any other woman he'd known in his extended lifetime. He couldn't attribute the reason to anything tangible or logical. All he knew was that he'd never wanted to taste a mortal's flesh or blood the way he had when he'd held her wounded hand and gotten his first full whiff of her mesmerizing essence.

It drove him mad to even think of how aromatic, how sensual, how provocative she smelled. How much her scent alone aroused him, never mind her magnificent, luscious body…

“Stop!” His low hiss echoed around him as he contemplated his strategy for resisting the greatest temptation he'd ever encountered.

Sure, to spare his sanity, he could pull a few tricks from up his sleeve to warn off this unexpected threat. Make the woman forty feet away from him think her newly acquired home was haunted, as many were in Savannah. He could terrify her with his lightning-quick speed and ghastly white, pre-dusk appearance.

A vampire before twilight could scare the shit out of Satan himself.

All of which would send her packing.

The idea had merit. And he gave it serious consideration. Because the dizzying bouquet of her blood and the strong, steady beat of her heart was just about the worst kind of torture he'd ever endured. Only one other thing topped it, actually. But Cane didn't allow himself to think of the crime he'd committed—the evil he'd created—when he'd turned Amy…

Perhaps the best way to alleviate the new bane of his existence was to leave Savannah himself and return to Europe for a few decades. Put an entire ocean between him and the bewitching aroma of Bevelyn Goitia.

But then the rich, seemingly velvety texture of her scent suddenly intensified, as though he'd conjured it with his thoughts, inflaming his nostrils, tormenting him further as it drew him deeper into a sensual abyss he'd never known existed.

Masochistic as it was, the idea of driving Bev away flew right out of his mind, along with the thought of fleeing to his homeland to escape the wicked web she'd so easily entangled him in.

Cane's head snapped in the direction of her house, just as the tall, curvaceous redhead who'd unwittingly taunted him the past six days stepped out onto her third-story veranda. The golden glow coming from her bedroom illuminated her features.

Not necessary for his benefit, for he'd already committed every breathtaking inch of her to memory.

A soft, late-night breeze ruffled her long, loose hair and rippled the swath of black satin that barely constituted a nightgown, making the short hem swirl around her at mid-thigh. Her skin was a warm bronze color. Smooth and flawless.

Coming to an abrupt halt, concealed by the inky darkness, Cane watched her. His eyes drank her in from the tips of her elegant bare feet, up the line of shapely legs that were long enough to wrap tightly around him as he thrust into her, to the soft rounding of her hips, and then the sharp dip of her narrow waist. His gaze rose higher still, to the plump breasts that nearly spilled out of the triangular-shaped, black lace cups covering them.

Couth had never been his strong point. Not that she knew he was staring at her, devouring every inch of her with his supernatural vision. Cane easily blended into the shadows surrounding him as the moon hid behind a patch of thick cumulus clouds and he was as still as the sturdy oak trunks sprouting up around him.

But damn it, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the rounded bronze flesh he suddenly burned to fill his palms with. It was almost sadistic how easily he could envision her in his arms, her head thrown back, her long, graceful throat exposed to him. He fantasized about skimming his hand over the obsidian satin that smoothed across her flat belly, moving upward until his fingers grazed the lace that covered her breasts, the pads of his fingers lightly brushing her warm, supple flesh before he peeled away the black triangles.

He imagined her nipples would be a dark, rosy color, complementing her beautiful skin tone. Small and tight, they'd beckon him to bend his head to her chest and curl his tongue around each pebbled peak, teasing them even tauter. Then his large hand would palm one full breast, his thumb stroking the swollen bud as his mouth continued to pleasure the other nipple. He'd flick his tongue over the delectable offering, then draw the nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her gasp in erotic bliss—

“Shit,” he groaned. “Human,” he reminded himself, the angst and torment dripping from his dark tone, filling the quiet night that surrounded him.

“Mortal,” he whispered to himself. “She's mortal!”

Why the hell was he having so much trouble remembering that? Why was it so damned impossible to get this woman out of his mind?

In his two centuries of existence as a vampire, Cane had only been this distracted by a human once. And it'd had nothing to do with lust. Had not been the least bit relative to desire and certainly hadn't rivaled the all-consuming attraction he felt with Bev.

Though Amy had meant a great deal to him, inevitably, she'd been but a means to recover some of his humanity.

Ironic, really, because in the end, he'd lost touch with himself. Had suffered nearly as much as the girl had.

But Bev was stronger than Amy. He'd sensed her strength and internal power the moment he'd met her.

And damn it, didn't fire roar through his body at the mere thought of the woman standing just forty feet away from him? Close enough that all he had to do was launch himself from his railing up to hers in one swift, fluid move.

She wouldn't know what to make of him. But Cane knew exactly what he wanted to do to her…

Another long-suffering groan escaped his parted lips as he turned sharply and stalked back into the house, closing the tall, black-lacquered, double front doors behind him. The seclusion did little to diminish her scent. It was stuck in his nose, taunting him, just as surely as the vision of her in his arms was forever burned on his brain, like an unexpected, unwelcome branding.

He wanted Bev. But to have her would cost him everything he'd worked so hard to recover after Amy. Every ounce of humanity he'd managed to retain even through the change centuries ago. Because he knew his desire for her went far beyond physical need. His passion burned bright, but he also felt innately, wholly connected to the human next door. The sensuous creature who had no idea how much he wanted her. How much he needed her.

His entire being had been infiltrated with lust and longing from the first glimpse he'd stolen of the fiery beauty.

And now there was no escaping what he knew to be a damning truth.

Cane was a doomed soul. Because he'd finally found what he'd been searching for the past two hundred years.

Bevelyn Goitia. A mortal human.

For Cane, she was the one…

CHAPTER 3

“Bev, you didn't have to leave in the middle of the fucking night!”

She cringed. “I'm sorry, Cam.” But held her ground. “I needed to make a clean break.”

“I've been worried about you all week!”

Contrite, she said, “I meant to call earlier. It's just been a little…strange…around here.” An understatement considering the six days of overcast skies when the perplexed weathermen still called for sunny days and clear nights. “We both knew this was coming. This wasn't a surprise to you.”

For the past three months, she'd been telling Camden Shelton she planned to move to Savannah. The only thing holding her back had been sentimentality. She liked Cam. Didn't love him, but he was a good guy.

“No, of course, I wasn't surprised,” he said on a heavy breath. “We talked about this. Still.” He paused a moment and she could picture him rubbing the back of his neck, just below his perfectly cropped blonde hair and above the collar of one of his immaculately pressed white dress shirts. “I'd hoped to have more time to talk you into staying in town.”

She smiled despite herself. “That's very sweet. But when Jenna came back, I knew it was time to move on. You knew it too. And really, Cam, I'm happy for you. She realizes the mistake she made in leaving you and I think, deep down, you've always wanted her to come back. She did. That's a sign you two belong together.”

And a sign that Bev's decision to move to Savannah was the right one. She'd lived in Albany for nearly ten years. A bit too long for her to stay in one place. Any day now, she'd expected someone to say, “Gee, Bev, you haven't aged a day since you moved to town.”

Well, duh. Immortal.

She'd known her time in Albany was up and thankfully Jenna Parks had returned. Bev knew Cam had always pined for his high school sweetheart. Jenna was the perfect scapegoat. They could salvage Cam's ego and sever the ties in one swift, clean drop of the ax.

Except that Bev had slipped out of their lakeside cottage in the middle of the night. Clearly a source of contention.

Wanting to smooth the waters and make sure they were good with each other, she said, “This is all for the best, Cam.”

Because I don't love you.

And never would.

She'd never love anyone. In fact, just thinking of losing herself to an all-consuming emotion she had no control over made her reach for her glass of Pinot Noir and take a deep sip to calm her instantly riotous nerves.

Love was one indulgence Bev would never allow herself to experience. It was a luxury for humans, not immortals, who would outlive whomever claimed their hearts.

So she kept hers well guarded.

Hence the reason the clouds and the thunder and the now-creeping-toward-her lightning had her in such a state of panic.

She still found it hard to believe her attraction to her sexy neighbor was the catalyst for the odd shift in weather. But every night when she looked at the weather maps displayed on TV that predicted something entirely different from what was experienced the following day, she couldn't escape the fact that the freak storms just might be her doing.

Returning her attention to Cam, she fought to keep her mind on their conversation. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him and she was almost sure she hadn't. Rather, she liked to think that what she'd done was free him.

“Well, I know how much you wanted the job in Savannah,” he said with resignation in his voice. “I certainly can't bemoan you following your dreams.”

“That's very considerate and understanding of you.”

“And I know you never intended anything permanent with me. Marriage and children aren't on your agenda, are they, Bev?”

She bit back a sigh. Hard to have children when one was immortal and whose “gift” would be revoked if anyone were to discover her secret.

Regardless of that deadly caveat, Bev could not even begin to fathom bringing something she loved with all her heart and soul into the world, only to watch a son or daughter deteriorate day after day until Death inevitably stole them from her. Her immortality was a random bestowment and there was no guarantee her children would inherit her genetic composition. And even if they did, once they discovered her secret… Again, it'd be all over for her.

As for marriage… How the hell would she ever explain to a husband that she didn't age? Credit Botox, clean living and Pilates?

Of course not. Those excuses would only go so far. The cat would inevitably escape the bag and immortality as she knew it would slip through her fingers, taking with it whatever life she'd built for herself.

She had no choice but to own up to the reality of the situation. “That was never my dream,” she told Cam.

Though “owning up to reality” didn't necessarily mean there was truth to her statement. Yet reality kept the walls erected around her. Kept her heart intact. Kept her sane—and alive—throughout the centuries. “Really, this all worked out the way it was meant to.”

“Yeah, but… You didn't have to leave in the middle of the fucking night,” he repeated, but with much less frustration.

Bev smiled. “Actually, I did. I needed to be in the office first thing Monday morning and leaving in the middle of the night was the latest possible time for me to catch a flight and still meet my work commitment.”

Cam was quiet a moment, then said, “So you didn't sneak off? You wanted every last second you could get.”

“I did. But now… Well. I'm happy here, Cam. I want you to let go of all of this and move on.”

“And you'll be okay?” he asked, the concern thick in his voice.

Bev took another sip of her wine, tamping down the familiar twinge of guilt and loneliness she experienced when she left someone behind.

Forcing an even tone, she said, “Thank you for caring. I'll be fine. I promise.”

She was a little over six hundred years old, after all. Not the thirty-one years he believed her to be. Leaving her companions was old hat for Bevelyn Goitia.

Though, admittedly, it never got easier.

“Now stop worrying about me. I'll survive.” She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Have a good night, Cam.” And life. She disconnected the call.

It was officially over between them and, of course, she felt a sense of loss. But she wouldn't contact Cam as the years passed, would instead tuck the memory of him away in the far recesses of her mind. Along with the others she'd left behind out of sheer necessity. Making her existence lonely and painful at times. But much less so than if she didn't keep such a tight rein on her emotions and her heart's desires.

Unfortunately, Bev had another human to keep at arm's length. An unexpected attraction she'd felt from the moment she'd moved into her new home and had gotten that first glimpse of the hot-and-hunky Cane McAllister. Instantly, Bev had been seduced by his devilishly handsome looks, smoldering black eyes and powerful, sinewy body.

Despite the monumental threat he posed to her carefully crafted shield.

Setting aside her wine and ignoring the curriculum vitae of a new client—a downsized chief operating officer of a global corporation who would be difficult to place in a new position given the current economy—Bev crossed to the tall French doors along the west wall of her living room. They were cracked open and a warm, sticky breeze caressed her dewy skin and ruffled the white sheer curtains that covered the glass-and-wood panes.

As she stood before the opened doors, the thick, humid air enveloped her. The lazy rotations of the ceiling fans cooled the beads of perspiration forming along her hairline as she peered out at the veranda.

The evening heat was bearable only because it brought the scent of flowers in bloom that Bev couldn't resist. Given her heritage, everything fresh and fragrant enticed her. She turned the air conditioner off at night so that she could open the doors and let the earthy smells filter in. The fans throughout the house hummed quietly and created a slight breeze that kept the rooms from being too sweltering to be tolerable.

Her long hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, keeping the strands off her neck. The white lace tank top and loose-fitting, dove-gray jersey lounging pants she wore were a good complement to the weather. Albany had been just as hot and insufferable in the summer, but there was much more to the rise in Bev's internal temperature than the humid climate.

Focusing her eyes across the courtyard, her attention shifted to the object of her very intense—and highly forbidden—desire. Standing on his own veranda, his large hands wrapped tightly around the black, wrought iron railing, Cane McAllister seemed to be just as rigid and lost in thought as she'd been.

She was reminded of her vehement reaction to his touch just days earlier. When he'd stared deep into her eyes, she'd felt a soul-stirring, ethereal connection form. When he'd touched her…

She dragged in a ragged breath at the remembrance.

He'd all but electrocuted her.

Tonight, he stood at the north end of his house, the very front of his Colonial that faced the manicured square before them, which was lined by massive oak trees, Spanish moss adorning their thick limbs. She observed him through the gentle sway of the sheer curtains, remaining partially ensconced in the house as she watched him. His strong profile and the rigid set of his muscles enticed her. Made her want to stand next to him and drown in his masculine scent. Reach a hand out to him and run her fingers over his hard muscles as they bunched beneath her caress.

The slivers of moonlight that penetrated the clouds illuminated his dark hair, picking up a sapphire hue. His white button-down shirt, tucked into black dress pants, billowed softly in the breeze, indicating it was opened at the neck. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal his sinewy forearms.

Bev inhaled the fresh aroma of the flowers edging both houses and the manicured square, the scent mixing with the herbs in her garden. Suddenly, Cane's gaze shifted from the square. His head lifted as he too sniffed the fragrant air. And then his jaw clenched for the briefest of moments before he slowly peered over one impossibly broad shoulder. His black eyes landed on her, locking with hers. As though he'd sensed her presence. Knew she stood just inside her house, watching him.

The shimmering, silvery rays cast by the moon lit a portion of his sculpted face, making Bev's pulse race. But it was the carnal, almost hungry, look in his dark eyes that hit her like a physical blow.

Taking a step backward, blending into the shadows created by the candles burning on the mantle of her fireplace, Bev pulled in a shaky breath. Her body vibrated with sexual awareness and the blood seemed to hum in her veins as it flowed a little faster and turned molten. The most intimate parts of her burned with desire. Her nipples tightened and her clit tingled, all sensitive buds in need of his touch.

And damned if another electrical storm didn't roll in, with the thunder rumbling low and the lightning sizzling and crackling in the not-so-far distance.

Bev could barely breathe as her gaze remained locked with Cane's. Aside from their first formal meeting on her front lawn, they'd done little more than exchange brief pleasantries in passing since she'd come to Savannah a week ago. But she could not deny the obvious lust that blazed in his onyx eyes.

A soft moan escaped her parted lips at the mere idea of Cane wanting her.

As though he heard her slight whimper—impossible, as it was barely audible to her own ears—his jaw tightened again and then worked rigorously as he continued to stare at her. As though contemplating speaking to her. Stepping closer to her. Taking her in his arms and crushing her body to his hard, powerful one.

No, she thought. Mustn't think of that…

But it was impossible to think of anything else.

As Cane's grip on the veranda loosened and his hands fell to his sides—hands she longed to feel on every inch of her—Bev wanted to retrace her step, move back into the glittery light. But her instincts kicked into high gear, warning her of the impending danger. Admittedly, in her six centuries of existence, she had never been this attracted to a man before. Had never wanted one with the sort of fierce veracity that sizzled in her veins, liquefied her body, ignited her very soul with a red-hot passion that would not be sated by fantasies alone.

Yet to give into her desire would be hazardous to them both. Cane was much younger than she was. A mortal. A man who would not understand her existence.

He was a threat to her. Innately, Bev could tell from his raw intensity that he was not the sort of man to let her keep him at bay, as Cam—and all the others before him— had allowed her to do. She'd had complete control over those past situations, those relationships. But it took little more than the acknowledgement of the untamed passion that clearly raged within Cane McAllister for Bev to know the damage they could do to each other.

If she were to give him all of her, it would devastate them both when she left him.

An inevitably she could neither deny nor escape.

And if he were to ever find out her secret…it would ruin her. Destroy her.

Kill her.

Not just emotionally, but physically.

And yet…to know all of this. To have it come to her with such crystal clarity because of the lust that flared in his eyes, the tension that gripped his body, the apparent impossibility of tearing his gaze from hers and vice versa…

Bev's pulse kicked up another notch or two. Her heart thundered in her chest and he seemed to hear it across the courtyard as he narrowed his eyes on her, turned fully and took one long stride forward. Her mouth gaped as her chest rose and fell with her excitement. The anticipation that held her hostage, rooting her bare feet to the polished hardwood floor as she involuntarily willed him to cross his veranda in the predatory way in which she'd become familiar, span the courtyard and her porch to get to her…

To touch her. To kiss her. To make love to her the way no man ever had. Ever would…

Bev became all too aware that Cane was the man she'd waited her entire existence for, even if her time with him could be nothing more than fleeting.

She wanted him. Allowed herself for the first time to acknowledge and accept the danger she'd just invited into her life.

As she watched him through the sheers dancing on the wind, she knew she would have him.

Though there would be hell to pay for it.

CHAPTER 4

No way in hell are you doing this.

Yet even as the thought popped into his head, Cane was stalking across the porch, descending the short flight of steps and moving quickly toward the Victorian. He could hear the hammering of Bev's heart, could sense the flow of blood in her veins as though it were coursing through him, burning his insides. The connection he felt to this woman was maddening, his desire for her no longer controllable.

The ornate front door with a cut-crystal center opened before he'd bounded halfway up her steps, his booted feet echoing his determination. His unrelenting need.

She stood in the foyer, looking breathtaking and mystified and completely devourable all at once. Cane's erection grew, his cock reminding him of the impending danger, but also demanding a satisfaction he didn't think he could live another moment without.

His fingers itched to touch Bev and he wasn't even sure where to start. Much as he wanted to rip the holder from her hair and twine his hands in the thick, silky-looking auburn strands, he also wanted to grip her by the waist and crush her to him, melding every inch of their bodies together in a fiery collision of passion and made-for-each-other body parts.

“Cane,” she greeted him in a soft, breathless voice that held a revealing hitch to it.

“Bev,” he replied in a much gruffer tone.

His gaze locked with hers. The shimmering green irises were vibrant and all too telling of her arousal. Conveying an intense desire that matched his own.

He'd waited so long for her. Over two hundred years. It was unbearable to waste another second not touching her, tasting her, pleasuring her.

Regardless of his previous convictions. Despite the perilous situation, the threat she posed to his humanity. His very existence.

He had no idea how he could possess her body without taking her life. But there had to be some way to control his vampire nature as he indulged his masculine needs.

Crossing the threshold of her home was symbolic in so many ways.

A dangerous awakening.

Ironic in nature and yet… A necessity. For Cane couldn't take one more day of not intimately knowing this woman.

She would belong to him come sunrise. For how long, he couldn't say. Couldn't possibly know or predict. But the need was too great to ignore. It consumed him, made him desperate to have her.

“You've been watching me,” she said in her sultry voice. It was like warm honey oozing down his spine.

“And you, me,” he simply said.

She drew in a sharp breath. He heard the crack of air so acutely, it may as well have been cymbals crashing together. Her sparkling eyes were multifaceted peridots that caught the chandelier light just right.

“You know very little about me,” he surmised.

“Or you, me,” she countered, borrowing his simplistic yet still intense tone.

Cane let out a low groan. He was flirting with disaster, but there was no stopping this runaway train.

They both seemed to know it.

Slamming the door shut behind him while he kept his gaze on Bev, he said, “We seem to be on a collision course.”

She merely nodded.

“I knew it the moment you moved in.”

Again, she nodded. Her throat tightened, the long chords pulling taut, as though she were trying to suck in a full breath.

Cane's eyes were drawn to the pulse on the side of her neck. The vein didn't bulge, but it drew his attention nonetheless.

His vampire thirst intensified. Cane's fists clenched at his sides as he fought the rising need to sink his teeth into her soft, delicate flesh.

To hold her lush body against his as he drank from her.

To taste the very essence of her.

To drown in the velvety richness of her.

More than he'd ever wanted anything before—even absolution for what he'd done to Amy—Cane wanted to feel this woman's warm breath on his skin. Feel her sensuous curves meld to his hard angles. Hear her moan deep in her throat as his fingers played the erotic instrument that was her body, strumming her clit, bringing her endless hours of pleasure.

Even now he could smell her arousal and it was nothing short of intoxicating. He could drown in the scent of her, but it would only increase, not satiate, his desire for her.

Forcing the fervor building within him to remain at bay just a bit longer, he asked, “Where are you from?”

Translation: Where have you been all my two hundred years of existence?

“Albany of late,” she said, her eyes barely blinking. They were glued to his face, completely transfixed on him.

“What brought you here?”

“I thought,” she said in a whisper of a voice, “a job.”

He took one big step and it closed the gap between them. “But not really?” he suggested.

Of course she had no idea they were destined to be. He could feel it to the core of his undead being. She could not experience the sort of ethereal revelation he'd come to, yet perhaps he could help her understand their meeting and this night were meant to be.

For whatever reason, he could not explain. For better or for worse.

Likely for worse, but they were long past heeding that warning.

She sucked in another quick intake of air, held it, then let it out slowly. The way she stared at him, held her ground against him with her bare feet planted firmly on the hardwood floor, she appeared stable and capable. Not the least bit malleable no matter what he said or did.

Yet there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes… Of wanting to believe something she couldn't quite bring herself to believe.

He said, “You came looking for something.”

“Perhaps,” she countered.

“Or someone?” he offered. And Cane's groin tightened further, as did the knot in his stomach that he hadn't known existed. Had never felt before. Even his throat seemed to compress and burn with need.

For a moment he was lost in her dazzling green eyes. They hypnotized him, made him feel as though he were being pulled into a dark, sensual abyss that consumed him. Surrounded him completely. Made him feel like the rest of the world did not exist.

Only this moment. This woman. This incredible attraction that could not be denied.

He fought the urgency that welled within him. The need that gripped him. The powerful desire to grab her and press his mouth to hers. To let his tongue delve deep and discover the gifts she had to offer with just one kiss.

As his fangs ached and his body burned—every inch of him responding vehemently to her and demanding its hunger be fed—Cane tried to remain in check. To retain some self-control. When really all he wanted to do was give himself over to the primal passion she sparked so easily.

He felt the vampire nature within him stretch and hiss and prepare itself for a sensual attack. Seeking a fulfillment two centuries in the making.

“I can't explain this,” he said, hearing in his voice the perplexity he still felt over this peculiar situation.

“Seems fairly self-explanatory to me.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Of course she understood the sexual aspect of this peculiar seduction. Passion burned in her eyes as surely as it did in his.

Taking another step toward her, he was pleased she didn't step backward. Away from him, as she'd done three nights ago. Rather, her chin lifted and her gaze met his. Holding it. Her enticing chest rose and fell with her excitement. He could practically breathe in her arousal. Wanted nothing more than to heighten it. To stimulate her senses to the point of driving her wild.

Even then, she'd still not know the intensity of his emotions. His desires. They were almost painful in nature, raw and prickly.

His cock swelled at the close proximity of her. The way she stared up at him, looking as needy as he felt, made him almost mad with the burning sensation that rose within him. He was desperate to touch her. Possess her.

“I want you.” Blatant honesty. He could give her that when it came to his feelings. Along with his eternal fidelity. He already knew he'd never be tempted by another.

Her jaw fell slack as her eyes blazed with the realization of his words. The passion and promise wrapped around them.

Cane moved in for the proverbial kill, taking one last step to close the gap between them. He felt the heat radiating from her body. Smelled her skin and her blood and her excitement. Heard her soft, shallow panting.

One hand gripped her waist, holding her steady because she swayed slightly as though she'd gone weak in the knees. The fingers of his other hand skimmed along the graceful bare neck exposed by her ponytail. He could feel her pulse jump beneath his touch and he fought the urge to kiss her there. To bite her. To ravage her.

He knew fighting his primal instincts would be difficult, but damn it, he'd do it. Because this was a mating game he was determined to win.

“Your jaw's tight,” she said in a soft voice as she raised her own hand and brushed her fingers over the clenched muscle. “Because you're holding back.”

Holding onto his sanity was more like it.

He merely nodded.

“Don't,” she whispered, her tone sharp. Hungry. Greedy.

Cane didn't think his cock could get any harder. It did. He let out a low grunt from the discomfort. And the passion that roared through him. The beast within him pushed toward the surface, but he kept it tamped down, fought it back.

He wanted sex, not death.

Intimacy, not horror.

He wanted his passion sated, not his vampire thirst. That would come later, when he was alone. Hurting this woman in any way was the absolute last thing he wanted to do and he would call on every ounce of restraint he possessed to keep from doing so.

Yet, that made him hold back now, when she'd implored him not to.

“Bev,” he said, his voice tight. Strained. “I could hurt you.” He had to warn her. It was only fair.

But then she turned the tables on him. Her body gravitated toward his until she was pressed against him, melding to him. “No,” she said in a low tone. “You can't. You won't. Trust me.”

She had no idea the fire she was playing with. He couldn't warn her further nor could he walk away from this moment. It was selfish and somewhat hypocritical, he knew it.

But to not have her…

He couldn't even fathom resisting this temptation.

His eyes closed as she leaned toward him and took a deep breath, as though inhaling his scent the way he did hers. She all but purred in delight and anticipation and it made him grip her waist tighter, crushing her body to his. Liquid heat raged through him as she rose on tiptoes and sealed her lips to his, telling him with certainty that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

The first thing that registered in Cane's head was acceptance. Mutual desire and need. The second thing that consumed him was the warm and supple feeling of her mouth. Her lips were heaven on his and he fantasized about how they'd feel on his skin as they blazed a trail over his chest, down his abdomen. How mind-blowing they'd feel wrapped around his cock.

And then he concentrated on the way her body felt as it joined with his in a soft, sensuous entwinement that made him think she'd become a part of him.

Their mouths opened at the same moment and his tongue delved deep, tasting, teasing. Giving as much as he took. He could hear her heart hammer in her chest. The erratic beats pounded in his head. He could feel her desire escalate as her fingers twisted in his hair and she gave herself over to the passion that consumed them.

Outside, thunder roared loudly, but it barely registered above her pulse. The lightning that illuminated the stained glass windows in the foyer created flashing light like strobes behind his closed lids. He couldn't focus on anything other than Bev, though.

In his arms, pressed against him, moaning softly as he deepened their kiss.

His hands roamed her body, needing to touch and caress and please. His fingers slipped behind the lacy material of her top and glided up her silky skin until he palmed her bare breasts.

Christ. No bra. His cock was this close to exploding. Biting back a groan, he skimmed the pads of his thumbs over her small, hard nipples. Gently at first. A teasing touch that perhaps was subconsciously meant to be a test to determine how far she intended to let him take this seduction.

Or a warning on his part as to how far he intended to take it.

Her body seemed to coalesce with his even more, giving him the answer he sought. He rolled a tight nipple between his thumb and forefinger and her mouth tore from his as she gasped for air.

Cane could barely breathe himself, but there was no letting up now. His mouth was on her neck and he found the restraint he'd hoped for because his need to fuck her overrode his need to bite her.

One of his hands slid to the small of her back to hold her in place, to keep her long, luscious body melded with his. The other hand cupped her breast and gave a slightly rough squeeze. More so than he'd intended, but his passion was welling within him, fast and furious. He toyed with her nipple, making her squirm against him. Her fingers were still tangled in his hair and she let out breathy little moans that drove him wild. His tongue slid along the column of her neck, tasting her sweet, slightly salty skin, exploring the cords as they pulled tight, pressing against her flesh as he drew in a pinch of it.

Not nipping or biting. Sucking softly. Carefully.

Though Cane's mind clouded with the sensual abyss he was lost in, there was a part of him that remained detached enough to keep himself in check. He wanted her body tonight. Not her blood. He wanted to pleasure her, not drink from her. The lines were blurry, of course, but he held fast to the firm grip he had on his restraint.

So he thought.

“Cane.” She whispered his name. That one word was filled with need and desire.

His eyes snapped open. Lightning lit the windows again and a kaleidoscope of color filled the small room, the varying hues covering the bare skin that was exposed before him. Her long arms. Her tempting neck. Her strikingly beautiful face.

Lord help him, he'd never wanted anything more in his life.

But it wasn't bloodlust that raged within him. It was physical lust. A red-hot need that flowed over him, through him.

“Say yes,” he said on a low, sharp tone that almost constituted a growl.

“Yes.”

Damn it. And… Hallelujah!

Hell, maybe he was the one playing with fire tonight. Maybe he was condemning his own soul for wanting her so damn much.

He didn't have any answers. All he knew was that physical pleasure beckoned him.

No. It was more powerful than that. It screamed at him, begged him to be satiated. And he would obey. Not just for himself, but for Bev as well. Especially for Bev.

His mouth was on hers again, but for a few brief moments before he broke away as he shoved her tank top upward over her head, letting the lacy material drop to the floor. He stared at her, captivated. He took in the full, lushly rounded breasts that indeed were accented by small, tight, dusty-rose-colored nipples. And then his gaze lifted, reveling in her bronze flesh, her prominent collarbone, her perfect neck.

Cane sucked in a breath as he devoured the sheer beauty of her. The face that would materialize behind his closed lids every day henceforth. For the rest of his tortured eternity. The lips he could still feel on his mouth. The eyes that, when he looked deep into them, begged for so much more. From life. From him.

He couldn't explain what he saw when he looked into Bev's sparkling green eyes. But in his gut, he knew there was a secret hidden in their depths. A truth he wanted desperately to know. A yearning he couldn't fully identify. A mystery he wanted to solve.

Cane wanted to know everything about her. Wanted to explore every fantasy, fulfill every dream.

His desire for her was overwhelming, yet at the same time the absolution he felt at this moment was enough to give him the kind of peace he'd wished for since the change two hundred years ago.

Her fingertips skimmed lightly over his cheek, down to his clenched jaw.

“You get so lost,” she said, her eyes narrowing on him, curiosity and confusion in her soft voice. “Where do you go?”

He shook his head. Christ. She had no idea how swept away he was. By her.

His throat was tight, but he managed to say, “You're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on.”

A soft smile touched her lips and her green eyes changed, as though his words and her reaction to them took her by pleasant surprise.

Cane grinned back. He'd made it this far with her. Had pushed past the primal need. Had tamped down the beast. Had focused solely on the man he was. Not the vampire. Not the demon.

He had masculine needs, was enrapt by a stunning woman who stirred more than his bloodlust.

Bev made him focus on his humanity. The essence of him that he'd lost twice now. The essence of him he'd fought so damned hard to recover both times.

After the change. After Amy.

This woman made him feel more like a man and less like a vampire.

The liberation that came with that realization helped him to hold onto his sanity. His restraint.

He could do this.

For her.

With her.

“Bev,” he continued, his voice tentative. His breathing was erratic, as was hers. Their chests rose and fell together. Her eyes blazed with desire and he knew his did too.

His hand covered her bare breast. His eyelids dipped as he zeroed in on her soft, slightly parted lips. If he had a beating heart, it'd be thundering in his chest like the storm outside. Like the hammering in her chest.

“Whatever is holding you back,” she said in a raw voice, “let it go.”

His jaw tightened further. For a moment. And then he did let go. He found his center—the man conquering the beast—and his mouth crushed hers as his body swallowed her up. His arm around her held her to him. His hand on her breast squeezed and caressed. He backed her up until she had nowhere else to go. She was trapped between him and the large round walnut table in the center of the foyer.

There was no fear in her kiss was the first thing that penetrated the passion-induced haze clouding his brain. There was nothing but reckless abandon. As though she'd quickly weighed all the pros and cons as he had, fought all the internal demons and… let them go. Cut them loose.

Allowed passion to reign supreme.

That revelation made him even harder.

As her hands skimmed over his shoulders, he eased away from her just enough so that her fingers could work the buttons on his shirt. She tugged the hem from his pants and then flattened her palms against his bared abdomen, the muscles clenching beneath her touch. His own hands had shifted to her biceps to allow her the freedom to explore his body to her heart's content. She leaned into him and her lips grazed a nipple, causing his cock to jerk behind the confining zipper. Her tongue flicked over the pebble and teased it.

Cane forced himself not to press his fingers into the soft muscles of her upper arms. She seemed to take great pleasure in discovering what turned him on and he had no desire to stop her. Still, she was making him so damn hot…

“You're perfect,” she muttered in a dusky voice.

She licked his other nipple and he groaned.

Careful, sweetheart.

It was a mental warning neither would heed and he knew it.

Her lips trailed over his chest, her tongue tasting, her mouth dropping kisses on his now-tingling skin. His hands moved up her neck, over her jaw to her hairline. His fingers plunged deep into the lush auburn strands, tangling and twisting, until he worked his way to her ponytail holder and unclasped it. The clip hit the hardwood floor as the silky curtain spilled over his hands and wrists. His head dipped and he inhaled the fresh, floral scent of her hair. Lilac.

She lifted her own head and his mouth pressed to hers as he pulled her into another long, demanding kiss. His desire exploded all over again and Cane's hands moved down her body. His fingers slid behind the waistband of her pants and panties and he shoved the material off her hips.

Breaking the kiss so he could strip the rest of her clothing from her, he knelt on one knee and dragged the soft material to her ankles. One hand rested on his shoulder to steady her as he freed her from the pool of soft gray at her feet and then Cane's hands and eyes eased slowly up her bare legs, over her knees to her thighs. He leaned in close, his lips and tongue brushing her skin, making her whimper softly as he moved upward.

When he reached the apex of her shapely legs, he dragged in a lungful of her rich, musky scent.

And let out a low growl.

Goddamn, she sent him into a frenzy of lustful, carnal needs.

He heard her swallow hard as his mouth hovered close to her neatly trimmed mound. So close he only had a move a few centimeters forward and his lips would graze hers. A tempting prospect, for he longed to taste her. To pleasure her. To slide his tongue along her swollen labia and then tease her clit with the tip of his tongue.

But he remained patient. Took his time. Kept himself in check.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

She shivered as though his breath on her naked flesh excited her even more. Which in turn tested his restraint. She widened her stance and Cane's hands skimmed over her velvety skin to her backside. He cupped her taut cheeks in his palms and pulled in one more heavenly drag of her scent.

It was more than he could stand. Restraint was suddenly an inconceivable notion. His mouth covered her fully.

Her gasp shattered the silence and rocketed through him, prompting Cane to pull out all the stops to take her to dizzying heights of pleasure. His tongue slid over her swollen lips, stroking slowly. Her breath quickened. The fingers she'd rested on his shoulders pressed into his muscles. She teetered slightly, swaying under his erotic touch, but he had a firm grip on her.

Wanting desperately to make her come, to hear her cry out his name, he targeted her clit. The long strokes turned into quick flicks, interspersed with occasional sucking that caused sensuous, groin-stirring moans to fall from her lips.

He shifted one hand and pushed a long finger deep into her wet pussy.

“Cane!” She gripped him tighter, her nails digging into him through the thin material of his shirt. “Oh god.”

She rocked slightly and he picked up her rhythm. He stroked her tight cunt with two fingers now as his mouth worked her quivering flesh. He licked and sucked her clit, worked her a little more frantically until she cried out. Her orgasm hit hard and fast and Cane pushed his fingers further into her contracting pussy to heighten and prolong the sensation. Wanting to give her even more. Everything he possessed.

She was vitally important to him. A part of him now in so many ways.

No turning back. He wanted her in whatever capacity he could manage that would not defy the humanity he'd worked so hard to restore.

Her hands moved to his head, threading through his hair. She tugged on the strands, likely unaware of it. She whimpered softly, rode the wave. Her legs trembled.

He stared up at her, loving the way she gave herself over, completely, to the sensations that consumed her. The feelings he evoked. The satisfaction he gave her. With her head thrown back, her lips parted, her eyes closed, she was an erotic vision he'd never tire of seeing.

Withdrawing his fingers from her dripping cunt, he kissed his way up the length of her. Standing before her, his cock throbbing, his mind reeling, he fought for his own composure. He wanted to make her come again. Over and over. He wanted to pleasure her until she begged him to fuck her.

But to not be buried inside her now, thrusting into her until they both exploded… Damn, it was all he could do not to take her hard and fast this very second.

His mouth swept over her exposed throat and her blood stirred his soul, as always.

“That was incredible,” she whispered, her eyes still closed, her head still back on her shoulders. Long, tousled strands of hair clung to her neck. Her skin was dewy from the humidity and her arousal.

“Get naked with me,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice, the relaxation she felt from her release. But there was also the underlying desire that told him she wanted—needed—more.

He stared down at her. When her eyes opened, they burned with lust. And satisfaction.

Her hands were shaky as she pushed at his opened shirt, shoving the material down his arms and to the floor. Then she reached for his belt. As she worked the silver buckle, Cane mentally prepared himself for the fervor building within him. The powerful sensations that made his gut coil tight and his groin strain to the point of pain.

Careful, he warned himself again.

The sound of his zipper sliding down the track was swallowed up by the crash of thunder and the sizzle of lightning. Damn close. He could feel the heat from the prongs that lit the night. But it was nothing compared to the heat that seared him to the core of his being as Bev's fingers pushed his pants and briefs down his legs and then her long fingers were wrapped around his cock and it was all he could do not to bend her over the table and fuck her hard from behind.

His fists clenched at his sides. He didn't dare touch her. His eyes squeezed shut when she eased to her knees before him and then her warm, soft lips were on him. From base to tip, she teased him with her mouth, her tongue stroking before her lips closed around his head.

“Goddamn,” he ground out. “Bev…” He swallowed hard. “Careful, baby.” This time he had to say it out loud. For both of them.

But she didn't get it. Didn't understand the tightrope he walked. The thin strand of composure that was rapidly unraveling.

Instead, she seemed to put her heart and soul into pleasuring him. “Bevelyn.” His voice was rough. His restraint slipping. “Jesus.”

Her head bobbed as she picked up the pace, sliding up and down his erect shaft. Cane wanted to touch her, to twine his fingers in her hair and force her into a faster rhythm. Precisely the reason he kept his hands balled at his sides. He couldn't unfurl his fingers. Couldn't push them through her silky strands as he pushed his cock deeper into her mouth. Because then he really would lose all control.

She took as much of him as she could and though it was pure heaven—better than that—he wanted more. He wanted to be burrowed in her warmth and wetness to the very hilt. He wanted to be inside her, the muscles of her tight pussy squeezing him, milking him.

This was heaven and hell. Triumph and torture. Pleasure and pain.

When her fingernails grazed his balls, Cane could take no more.

“Bev,” he said sharply as his hands clutched her upper arms, pulling her away from him, forcing her to relinquish her erotic grip on him as he hauled her to her feet.

She stared at him in bewilderment. But only for half a second. Realization dawned so quickly, she smiled.

“I want that too,” she said, the corners of her lush, talented mouth tilting further upward.

His hands gripped her hips and he lifted her up and onto the round table that was the centerpiece of the foyer. The chandelier overhead dripped cut crystals that sparkled in the soft light emitted from the small bulbs.

Though really it was the lightning from yet another freak thunderstorm that provided the major source of illumination in the room.

His raspy breath mingled with Bev's, but the sound was barely audible over the constant clapping of thunder.

The storms of late were unexpected and bizarre, but Cane didn't give a damn about them. All that matter to him was that he'd made it this far without sinking his teeth into Bev's neck and that told him he could survive the ultimate pleasure with her and not kill her. Because what she did to his body was infinitely better than sucking her blood. He could get that fulfillment later. Elsewhere. In a humane, safe manner.

Right now, all he wanted was to make love to the bewitching woman who opened her legs wide for him. He toed off his boots, pushed away the remainder of his clothes and then stepped into the inviting V her spread thighs created. His hands clasped her hips again and he pulled her forward, to the edge of the table.

She gasped, whether from his forcefulness or the anticipation of what was to come next, he didn't know.

“I don't want to hurt you,” he told her again.

“You won't.” And she sounded so sure of that, he relaxed a little.

Truly, it was a wonder he didn't plunder and pillage, the way she stared up at him with such need and uninhibited lust.

His hands shifted, moving up to cup her full, round breasts. His thumbs skimmed the hard beads at the center of them until she was panting softly, her chest rising and falling quickly.

“The way you touch me,” she said on a whisper of breath. “It's like you're already familiar with my body, in tune with it. As though you know exactly when and where and how to caress me, make me respond.”

“Just warming you up,” he said with a tight grin.

“I'm on fire.”

Cane grunted. “Then we'll need a fire extinguisher when I'm done.”

“Under the kitchen sink.” Her green eyes shimmered as she issued the challenge.

He squeezed her breasts, making her squirm. And then his hands dropped to her thighs and he spread them even wider to accommodate him as he moved in closer. Shifting to the backs of her legs, he hooked his forearms at the undersides of her knees, rocking her hips back, opening her to him. Her palms flattened against the wood beneath her as she braced herself.

Her ragged breaths echoed in his ears. The storm outside seemed to rage inside her pale eyes. There was electricity and tumult and the promise of something provocative looming on the horizon. All of which intrigued him. Turned him on all the more. His hard cock pulsed and throbbed with the need to plunge deep and be held captive by her inner walls as they clutched at him.

“Feels like I've waited my whole life for this moment,” she said, her tone low and sultry. Full of wonder and excitement.

“I understand the feeling.”

She shook her head. “I don't think you do. You couldn't possibly. I've waited so long. So much longer than…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes misting with an emotion he couldn't decipher. Pain? Loneliness? What was it?

“Never mind,” she added in a soft voice. “It doesn't matter. This is all that matters. Right here. Right now.”

He agreed. Whatever came before this moment, before Bev, mattered not. Two hundred years of waiting to feel this lost in the depths of a woman's eyes, desperate to be lost in the depths of her body and soul, washed away like sand in the tide. He'd endured the torture and had finally arrived at this moment. This perfect, passionate moment, filled with anticipation and titillation and fascination. Everything in his existence that led up to this moment was moot. All that mattered to him now was Bev. Pleasing her, loving her. Giving her everything her heart desired. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, he knew that deep down in his barely recovered soul.

And all he'd ask for in return was acceptance.

Whether he would receive it remained to be seen. And it was entirely possible that when she eventually discovered his true nature, there would not be acceptance.

Though that notion made his insides coil tight with dread, he considered it a bridge he'd cross when the moment arrived. Not a moment before. Certainly not tonight. He wouldn't do anything to alter the course they were on. Wouldn't do anything to derail this runaway train.

When she shifted on the table and leaned forward, reaching a hand out to him, he started. He'd gotten lost again.

Her fingers skimmed over his abdomen and down further. When they grazed the base of his erection, Cane pulled in a sharp breath.

“Stop thinking,” she said. Her eyes blazed with lust and need. “And start fucking me.”

CHAPTER 5

She honestly couldn't stand another second of him just devouring her with his eyes and not his body. His hands. His lips. His mouth. She wanted him to touch every inch of her. Wanted to feel him deep inside her body. Wanted to experience the kind of reckless abandon that was a result of this sort of heated passion.

This unexplainable connection that was something she'd dreamt about her entire existence, but which she'd never before experienced. She couldn't fathom how it'd come about now, but was too entranced to question its origin. Or how long she would be allowed to keep it within her grasp before reality burst her blissful bubble.

At the moment, the all-consuming sensations holding Bev in such a gloriously erotic state inspired the intense need to let go of everything that had ever held her back when it came to giving herself completely to someone.

The way Cane looked at her and touched her and seemed to need to please her… there was so much more to their attraction than just physical chemistry. She felt an uncommon sense of belonging with him. To him.

A feeling she could not explain, but which was impossible to deny.

Unfortunately, her euphoria warred with her sensibility. The truths she knew to be absolute and finite. In her heart, she knew better than to let go like this. But when she'd urged Cane to do just that, she'd committed to doing the same.

Knowing that, come morning, the smartest thing for her to do would be to leave town.

A realization refusing to be banished to the back of her mind, no matter how hard she attempted to lock it away.

There could be no future here. Not with this man. Not when she was immortal and he was not.

But there was tonight. This one beautiful evening when she didn't have to deny her lust. Her desire. Her passion.

Tomorrow would come with repercussions and they would be shockingly painful, she had no doubt. Innately, she would grieve a loss she'd never anticipated experiencing. One she'd fortified herself against all this time.

One she was willing to endure for this one perfect night with this one perfect man.

Cane was beyond temptation, for reasons exceeding physical desire. Though these reasons mystified and terrified her, she would not shun them. Would fully embrace them, inviting something explosive and spectacular into her life that she had avoided for six hundred years.

As her fingers glided over the supple skin that covered the thickest, fullest cock she'd ever seen in her six centuries of existence—had ever had the pleasure to touch and hold—he seemed to work very hard at not giving up his control and thrusting deep into her.

She wanted him to give up his control. She wanted him to be wild and reckless along with her.

For tonight.

One night.

If the gods were on her side, the worst she'd have to contend with in the aftermath was living the rest of her eternity with this decision. One she'd already made. One she couldn't change.

Didn't want to change.

Propped on the edge of the foyer table and opened wide to him, her fingers wrapped around Cane's steel erection. She invited him inside her body with a look. A soft smile. An invitation she issued with her eyes…the sharp intake of her breath…the anticipation that no doubt radiated from every pore of her body.

“I want you,” she told him, her tone low and intimate. “More than you can possibly know.”

A slight shake of his head made a dark lock of hair dislodge from his unruly `do and fall across his forehead. “No,” he whispered, his voice full of need. “You have no idea how intense…how powerful this need is within me.”

The intensity of his words and the tight strain in his voice told her he was pulled in as deeply as she was. As lost as she was. And that made this precipice steeper. Deadlier. But there was no stepping back from the ledge.

She urged him forward with an oh-so-gentle tug at the base of his cock. When the tip of his rock-hard erection rubbed against her swollen lips, she let out a low moan filled with desire and the unmistakable need to feel him inside her tingling pussy.

Sliding her fingers up his shaft, she glided the head of his penis along her slick folds, reveling in the feel of him. The lust he so easily commanded.

She could drown in the burning look that flashed in his dark eyes.

Bev slid her hand beneath his steel rod and pushed against him, loving the feeling of his wide tip pressing against her opening. His hips eased forward in a restrained way, as though he were clinging to every ounce of composure he possessed.

She didn't want him to resist. Didn't want him to hold back.

What she wanted was to feel his cock fill her completely as he thrust into her, hard and fast.

“Cane.” Her voice, thick with need, filled the small room. Audible over the rumble of thunder, the sizzle of lightning and the sweep of ceiling fans, it held a desperate plea. “I want to feel you inside me. I need to feel you inside me.”

Her heart seemed to swell along with his cock. This wasn't just physical need for her. It was an emotional fulfillment she'd never allowed herself to consider, to contemplate. To wish or hope for. To dream of…

“Damn it,” he ground out. As though he had emotional demons of his own to fight. “Bev, I…” He shook his head and groaned. Then his rigid body seemed to go limp as he leaned forward, into her, pressing his cock harder against her opening. Pressing into her. Pushing deep.

Surrendering, as she had already done.

“Oh!” she cried out as he thrust into her, making her hips lift off the table and meet his quick, unrelenting stride. “Oh yes. That feels so good.”

She ground against him, moved with him. There was nothing she could do to slow the frenzied passion that seemed to grip them both. The fervor that drove a hard-beating, pulsating tempo that had her panting and moaning in sensual delight.

That foreign and forbidden emotion that felt too close to love for comfort welled within her again. Rising up to her throat, forming a lump, which took her by surprise. Her fingers twisted in his thick hair as she held him close to her, wanting desperately to feel his mouth on hers. Knowing she'd only be torturing herself further if she allowed it.

An unfamiliar urgency gripped her as he made love to her with quick, confident strokes. The peculiar sensations holding her body, spirit and soul captive made her eyes mist. She suddenly longed for more than this one night.

Knew she couldn't have it.

With every move Cane made, the breath whooshed from her lungs, causing the most uninhibited cries of pleasure and need to fall from her parted lips. Every inch of her begged for more, even if the words didn't fully form on her tongue.

She rocked with him, meeting him thrust for thrust. His gaze locked with hers, his black eyes burning with an intensity she'd never seen before and backlit with that odd yet totally mesmerizing glow that held her spellbound.

As his thick cock plunged and retreated, hammered into her then withdrew— pushing even deeper than the last time—she felt a powerful climax build within her. Too fast to stall. Too intense to fight off. It scared her how vehemently she reacted to everything he did to her. But there was no denying or escaping the sensual abyss. Her orgasm hit like a 10.0 quake and all she could think was this was why they called it earth-shattering!

Her erotic scream filled the room. Thankfully, it was met by the crash of thunder or the neighbors on the other side of her might have called the cops.

She wouldn't have blamed them. Her pleasure-filled cries continued to echo in the foyer as Cane continued to drive deep, fucking her harder, making her even wetter… hotter…in need of more…

He pushed her close to another mind-blowing orgasm. She welcomed it.

“Oh god,” she barely managed to grind out. Her breath was scarce. Her heart leapt in her chest.

And yet he still held her legs open, still thrust into her with the kind of determination that told her he intended to make her come at least a half-dozen times more before he indulged in his own release.

A sharp moan welled in her throat at the thought. “Don't stop,” she said, urging him on while still meeting his quick rhythm. Her flattened palms pressed against the wood beneath her. The table was sturdy, yet it shook against the onslaught, the erotic wrath Cane unleashed.

Bev had never been caught up in such a turbulent sexual cyclone, but damned if Cane didn't envelop her in the most violent of erotic storms. So all-encompassing in nature with his single-minded determination to pleasure her. So wrought with passion and desire and need. So intense and raw and…real.

As he moved at a fevered pitch, so steady and strong and fast she knew she'd come again any second now, his gaze locked with hers once more.

Making her breath catch. Reminding her of everything she wanted…everything she couldn't have. Everything that would slip from her grasp after this evening.

That awkward lump lodged in her throat again. “Cane,” she whispered his name as though to mentally record it, to convince and remind herself this moment was real. That he was real. That what was transpiring between them tonight was real and not just a figment of an imagination that had refrained from fantasizing about this kind of forbidden interlude centuries ago.

How could she have found such perfection after all this time? How could she have connected with a human on a level that went far beyond reason and logical explanation, especially when she'd worked so hard to convince herself love and lust weren't necessities in life? Weren't plausible or rational dreams to pursue?

Worse yet, why did she have to know in her heart that what she felt intuitively to be the right choice for her was actually an impossible pipe dream?

Bev gave a slight shake of her head, but her gaze snapped right back to Cane's. His dark eyes flashed with emotions that seemed to mirror her own. As though he too were acknowledging how perfect this union was, yet questioning its possibility all the same.

It's longevity.

Even pondering an impossible future, however, couldn't keep her from responding to the heavenly present. As he moved within her, her ass lifted off the table. Her head fell back on her shoulders and her body quaked with every purposeful push and pull. Every unrelenting, sweet invasion of her cunt. He knew exactly what she needed, fighting it no longer.

Hard and full and pulsing inside her throbbing pussy, he drove her to the very end of that twisting, turning, treacherous road and made her barrel over the edge once more.

This time, Bev's scream was met with a near blinding flash of lightning that made her squeeze her eyes tight against the color and heat…and the undeniable knowledge that she was the one causing this erratic weather pattern.

She could hide from it no longer. Lust, desire and passion consumed her. Cane still drove deep, still pushed her further along so that one orgasm morphed into another and her body shuddered nonstop as he fucked her with full, steady yet erotically rough strokes.

“Please…” she whimpered. Not in protest. In desperate need. Her ears buzzed, her mind clouded. Her body hummed with electricity. An urgency she'd never known before made her squeeze his cock, holding him captive inside her body. Her muscles contracted around him. Milking him. Teasing and taunting him.

He groaned low and deep. A primitive sound that excited her all the more. “Christ, Bev,” he said on a rough exhale of air. “You're going to make me come.”

“Please,” she repeated, realizing that was exactly what she wanted. “Cane,” she said, trying to focus her unsteady gaze on his devastatingly handsome face. When all she really wanted to do was let her eyes roll into the back of her head. She could easily pass out from the sheer ecstasy that overwhelmed her.

And she was immortal for fuck's sake!

“I want to feel you inside me,” she said. “All of you.” Her heart seemed to thump in her throat. Her pulse raced and her breath came in short, heavy pulls. “Come inside me. Let me feel you. Fill me, Cane. Please…”

His forearms shifted from the backsides of her knees and he crowded her as he placed his hands on either side of her hips, pressing forward, further into her, as he leaned against the table. His dark, sinful gaze burned her eyes, her mind, her soul. He looked so deeply into her that she gasped.

Fear he could ascertain all of her darkest secrets held her captive for but a brief moment. Then he was taking her hard and fast again, with a renewed intensity that had her writhing and panting and ready to explode once more.

“Oh yes,” she urged. “Fuck me harder.”

He did.

Bev still couldn't get enough. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she held him tight, forcing quicker, shorter, more erratic movements that drove her absolutely wild.

“Bevelyn,” he all but growled. His body jerked. His eyelids drooped. His nostrils flared.

All of which turned her on even more. As if that was really possible.

Yes, clearly it was. God, how she wanted him!

And there was no sanity around it. Nothing reasonable or explainable.

She just wanted him…needed him. Had to have him.

All of him, as she'd said.

Released inside her. Now.

Right. This. Very. Second.

“Cane!” Her voice wasn't her own. It belonged to a woman who'd given up all rhyme and reason. All sensibility. The provocative, sultry tone she heard was meant to sway, to seduce. To bring her lover over to her side—to do her bidding. And her bidding was to have him come inside her. “I need to feel you,” she told him. Repeating her now-urgent request. Her body moved with his and she could see by the tight pull of his jaw, the heat in his eyes, the strain of his muscles that he was hanging on by a thin strand. A fragile thread. One she could break so easily.

A soft smile touched her lips. “I never imagined feeling this swept away. This lost. This uninhibited. I never wanted it,” she admitted. Their gazes locked and she said, “Now I can't imagine how I lived without experiencing this.”

The truth of her words brought tears to her eyes that she blinked back. “I don't care what happens tomorrow, Cane.” That was a huge lie, but an inevitability she couldn't escape. “All that matters to me is this night. This moment. I've never wanted anything more. I've never wanted anyone more. I never will.”

He swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed and his eyes ignited with more heat. “I don't know that I can give you everything you deserve, Bev,” he said, honesty reflected in his onyx irises.

She shook her head. “I'm not asking for anything. Just this.” Her inner walls clenched his thick cock again, making him groan and thrust into her. Bev gasped. “I don't need anything traditional. Don't think you have to fill a specific role. Just…give me what you can. Give me this. You. All of you.”

His gaze held hers. She saw confusion and relief and so many other things she couldn't even begin to identify. It didn't matter. All she cared about was that the swirling in his eyes seemed to hint at acceptance. Understanding.

Perhaps Cane was as in need of as wide a berth as she was.

Willing and able to give physically, but guarded enough to understand the need for an arm's length between them emotionally.

And yet…even as the idea presented itself in her mind, she realized she didn't like the implication. To keep him at bay—like all the others—was painful to consider.

Especially since he'd already claimed her heart. As no other man ever had.

They were sharing real intimacy tonight. She had but to look into his dark eyes to see the extent of emotion reflective of her own. The words hadn't been expressed aloud, but the feelings lingered between them. And the way they'd made love, with no inhibitions to mar the intimacy, to hold them back…

Bev knew a bond now existed between them that time and distance and death wouldn't break. His death, of course.

She was now forever connected to him in her heart.

Cane moved inside her again, pulling her from her reverie. Bev was hopelessly lost all over again, her emotional dilemma slipping from her mind.

“I've never wanted anyone the way I want you,” she whispered, feeling all the erotic sensations well within her again. She tightened her grip on his hips and his cock. He groaned and she smiled. “Stop teasing me.”

But his head dropped to her chest and his tongue swiped over one still-taut nipple. Bev felt as though she'd jump right out of her own skin.

“You've proven your point,” she reminded him, thinking of that fire extinguisher in the kitchen.

“Not yet,” he said in a dark tone. “I'm still not done with you.”

“Seriously,” she whispered. “I'm about to start begging for more.”

He grinned. Half-assed and so damn sexy. “I can hold out for that.”

“Oh really?” She squeezed him tight and he growled.

“Goddamn…” he grunted. His eyes flashed with heat and longing and something dangerously erotic.

“You were saying?” she prompted.

Cane pressed into her again, pushing his cock in to the hilt, making her gasp.

Touché.

In a breathless voice, she suggested, “Perhaps if you let me take charge…”

His jaw clenched. She laughed softly.

He said, “Exactly how much trouble are you looking for tonight?”

“I already told you what I want. Straightforward. No holds barred. Make love to me again. Come inside me.” She held his steely gaze, challenging him. Wondering why he held back when she was the one with the most to lose.

When Cane moved away from her, Bev's body bemoaned the loss of hard muscle and thick fulfillment.

“What are you…?”

He swept her up in his arms and she knew there was so much more to come. His eyes bore deep into hers and they seemed to rage with passion like the storm outside.

She didn't have to finish her question. He didn't have to answer it.

He was taking her to bed.

CHAPTER 6

Cane carried her up the first flight of stairs. This was insanity personified, but that was moot at this point, really. He'd experienced paradise and was now shooting for the stars. Heaven, even.

Bev smelled sweet. Tasted tangy and delicious. Fucked passionately and with no inhibition.

He couldn't imagine being inside another woman and feeling this complete, this sensational. He wanted all of her. Knew he couldn't have all of her, but still… There was an unspoken understanding between them. And somehow he was managing to keep the beast out of the equation. He could ravish her. Devour her. Make love to her. Make her come repeatedly.

And not kill her.

For once he felt as though he actually might be able to have it all.

And that was the most amazing feeling he'd experienced in longer than he could remember. Maybe his cursed existence had a slight chance at salvation after all.

To possess Bev physically and emotionally—as a man, not a demon… That would change everything for him.

He reached the first landing and sank to his knees. He couldn't even make it to her bedroom. Wanted desperately to be inside her hot, slick body again.

They shifted at the same time and suddenly he was sitting on the polished hardwood floor and she was straddling his lap. Her fingers plowed through his hair and her mouth covered his just as his hands gripped her waist. She came down on him, taking him fully into her body in one fell swoop. He fought back the lustful, primal, territorial growl that rose within him.

Their hips rocked in time with each other as her tongue pushed deep into his mouth, twisting and tangling with his. He needed to touch her, to pleasure her. His hands moved up to her breasts and he palmed them, squeezing roughly, toying with the tight nipples until she ripped her mouth from his and gulped for air.

“Christ,” she whispered in a low, husky voice. “This is like being plugged into an electrical outlet.”

He would've grinned, but the need to taste her overwhelmed him and his head dipped to her breast. Flicking his tongue over the taut bud, he made it even harder and then sucked it into his mouth, careful not to scrape her with his teeth. He was still on dangerous ground.

Her body melded to his. Her lips pressed to the top of his head before she drew in a full breath, as though inhaling his scent. He sucked harder and she bucked against him. As he continued to lick and suckle her nipple, one hand moved down to her ass. He cupped a cheek and again gave a not-so-gentle squeeze. And then he guided her into a quicker pace, forcing her hips to move with his.

Raspy, breathy moans fell from her parted lips. He wanted to kiss her again, but it was hard to do so and not lose himself completely. Instead, he leaned back until he was sprawled on the floor with her on top of him, riding him hard. He gripped her hips again as he thrust up into her. Their gazes locked and her green irises shimmered in the dim lighting from the chandelier above them and the lightning that continued to pierce the night sky and illuminate the inside of the house.

When she planted her hands on either side of his head and lifted off him slightly, Cane thought he'd go half out of his mind with his need to make her come again. He held her tightly as he pistoned into her, making her entire body quake.

“Oh yes,” she whispered roughly. “Just like that.”

Long strands of hair clung to her damp neck and she finally closed her eyes and seemed to give herself over to all of the sensations building with her again.

He had no idea how he was keeping his own orgasm at bay. The need for release was strong. Painful. Torturous. But he didn't want to stop. Being inside her was too sensational. Too perfect. He wanted to fuck her all night long. Intended to do just that, actually.

One of his hands shifted to the front of her and he rubbed two fingers over her clit, quickly, steadily, making her whimper and gasp for air. The other hand moved to her ass, the pads of his fingers stroking along the cleft before targeting that forbidden spot.

“Cane!”

She exploded all around him. He felt her orgasm as though it was his own. Shattering, breathtaking. So powerful it made her entire body shake. His too.

“Oh god,” she cried.

Her inner walls were like a vise grip around his cock, so tight and wet and wonderful it was a miracle he didn't come right then and there. His hands returned to her hips and he forced her down onto him, pushing up into her until he was fully sheathed inside her body. She cried out again, trembling and squeezing and gasping until he was just about certifiable from wanting more of this. More of her. All of her.

When her forehead hit his chest and her harsh breaths teased his flesh, he fought for sanity.

The rational side of his brain told him to give her body a brief respite. Let her catch her breath at the very least. He couldn't. The irrational part of his clouded mind urged him to continue. To keep her aroused, keep her in desperate need of him.

Rolling onto his side and then further so that she was stretched out beneath him, he started that quick, unrelenting rhythm again, hammering into her, making all those erotic noises fall from her lips again.

He couldn't stop himself. Couldn't fight back the fervor of emotions and sensations that consumed him, drove him to push deeper, rock faster.

Desire was a powerful emotion, yet no match for the possessiveness that came with claiming a woman as his own. His feelings went beyond passion. He'd never experienced love in human or vampire form, but there was no mistaking it when it happened.

For Cane, it had most definitely happened.

He couldn't say if the feeling was reciprocal, though it was difficult to deny the glow in her eye that hinted at a deep emotion. One that rivaled what he felt.

Perhaps that was why there were no inhibitions between them. No holding back. Her fingertips pressed into his bunched shoulder muscles, the nails biting. He didn't care. She could claw at him all she wanted. Scratch the hell out of him. He'd barely notice, so lost was he. Drowning in the depths of her glimmering green eyes, disappearing in a passionate abyss.

“Bev,” he grunted. “So close.”

Her fingernails scraped their way down to his ass, sending shivers of excitement rocketing through him. Making him fuck her even harder. It still didn't seem to be enough for her. She gripped his ass firmly and lifted her hips off the floor, taking all he had to offer.

“I told you what I wanted,” she said. “Give it to me.”

He wasn't sure he could let go. Was terrified to do so. What if he lost his sanity completely and sank his teeth into her? What if he couldn't stop himself? Could no longer keep the beast contained within him?

“Jesus.” He shook his head. His cock was ready to explode inside her. And goddamn was he in need of release! Like never before.

When her legs wrapped around his hips and her hands moved up to his shoulder blades, it seemed that every single inch of her was sealed to him. They were moving together as one. Even their short breaths were in time with each other.

And that's when he truly understood how lost he was. He was no longer himself. He was a part of her. And vice versa.

“Bev.” He was overwrought with emotion. Lust, passion, desire, need…love. He felt it all. The need to protect her. To keep her safe, even from himself. He wanted to give her everything he possessed. Including his unbeating heart.

“Please,” she whispered as she continued to move with him. “Come with me. Now, Cane. I want to feel you. All of you. Please!”

His eyes locked with hers. She kept him focused there, holding him spellbound as everything inside him converged and erupted in a fiery, frenzied climax that seemed to shake the rafters, though he knew that was the storm's doing.

“Oh yes!” she screamed as she came too, squeezing him even tighter, her body vibrating and convulsing with his. “Oh god, yes!” Her back arched. Her eyelids dipped.

“No, Bev,” he managed to grind out. “Don't close your eyes. I need to see your eyes.”

He'd lose that last thin strand of control if she looked away from him, diverted his attention. He'd sink his teeth into her throat. Taste her intoxicating blood.

And damn his soul all over again.

Thankfully, she responded to his desperate plea. Kept her gaze on his, transfixed, as her own emotions flickered in the pale pools. He saw so much. And that's what he focused on. As his body continued to tremble from the massive release of an eternity's worth of pent-up passion, he searched the windows to her soul and found that the intensity of her feelings mirrored his own. She didn't hide them or hold them back. She let him see how aroused and satisfied and…happy…she was.

One corner of his mouth lifted. Yeah, happy was a weird concept for him, but damn it. He felt thrilled to the core of his undead body.

Her hands shifted to his chest, her fingertips grazing his skin as they made their way up to his shoulders, his neck, his jaw. Which was clenched tight. She massaged it gently, on both sides.

He realized his entire body was rigid. Not limp the way it should be after the colossal climax he'd just experienced. He was still holding himself in check. Still terrified of the vampire he was.

Yet he was also wholly accepting of the man he was. The man Bev had made him tonight.

“You can't even begin to imagine…” She started to say, then gave a slight shake of her head, still holding his gaze.

“Oh yeah, I can.” Christ. Even as his orgasm ebbed, he still felt on fire from head to toe. Still trembled from the overwhelming sensations that had consumed him. That continued to rage within him. “Just like you said.” He grinned at her. “It's like being plugged into an electrical outlet.”

She smiled back. Warm and inviting. “Feels damn good.”

“Better than that.”

Whisking away a wayward lock of hair from his forehead, she said, “Thank you for not holding back any longer. I thought I was going to die from wanting you.”

They stared at each other, her words hanging on the sexually charged air. Wanting him could have been the death of her.

But no. He'd won. He'd kept the demon out of this.

“Sorry we didn't make it to the bed.”

“I'm not.”

He chuckled. The sparkle in her eyes made him lighthearted. His personal victory made him less tense. His muscles loosened and he dipped his head to hers, brushing his lips across her soft ones before kissing her. Slowly. Deeply.

Her arms circled his neck, her body conforming to his again. He could stay here forever in this sexual bliss. Right here. Inside her mouth. Inside her body. Inside her heart.

When she finally broke the kiss, he groaned. She laughed softly. “Sorry, but I can hear that it's starting to rain and I left the veranda doors open.”

She stilled in his arms, stared up at him as though something had just occurred to her. And it was a hell of a lot more dire than leaving the patio doors open.

“Shit.” The word seemed to fall from her lips, unbidden. Then her mouth snapped shut. She shook her head. Her eyes clouded with an emotion he couldn't decipher. It all happened so suddenly. In a heartbeat, she was the one to turn rigid and guarded.

“Bev?” He watched the change in her, perplexed by it. “What's wrong?”

Her eyes squeezed shut for a brief moment and she shook her head again. Then said, “Nothing I just…it's…nothing.”

But that was a lie. He could see it. He hauled himself off her and lifted her back into his arms.

“The doors,” she reminded him. “The…rain.” Her voice cracked on that last word.

“I'll take care of them.”

Reaching the third floor, she pointed to the room on the right. He already knew that was her bedroom. It smelled of flowers and rain and all things fresh and fragrant.

It smelled of Bev.

Earthy yet rich and aromatic. Tempting. Tantalizing.

He set her gently in the middle of the king-size bed, covered with a lavender-colored satin duvet. Then he shut the French doors that led to her balcony. He left the room to close the rest of the doors. All the while he wondered what the hell had just happened. What had she just thought about that had made her go stiff in his arms when she'd been so damned soft and pliable all night?

What had freaked her out or alarmed her or—

Shit.

It hit him like an anvil on the head. What a colossal idiot he was. No condom!

CHAPTER 7

Bev sat on the edge of her bed, staring out into the dark night as fat raindrops pelted the wood-encased glass panes of the French doors. The thunder and lightning had retreated, becoming a distant rumble and a faint ripple through the clouds. She imagined the last hour or so had probably scared the crap out of the people in town. She had no doubt the thunderstorm had raged severely when she and Cane had unleashed their own storm. Of the erotic variety. She'd missed what was happening outside, so caught in the throes of passion that she'd eventually tuned out everything except the man that had made her feel more alive in one night than she had in over six hundred years.

The way he touched her, made love to her. The things he said to her. The way he made her feel…

She closed her eyes and sighed. A smile touched her lips, despite her dilemma. Despite her precarious predicament.

She was so very fucked. In more ways than one.

And yet…

“You're okay, then?”

His deep, intimate voice filled her quiet room. She hadn't even heard him enter, so stealthy was he. Nodding, she opened her eyes and said, “Just a moment of panic over…” She waved a hand dismissively in the air.

“Yeah. I know. I hadn't thought about that. I'm sorry.”

Her head cocked to the side and she stared curiously at him. “Thought about what?”

“Protection.”

“Oh!” Holy Christ. Neither had she. And hadn't she begged him to come inside her? “I'm on the Pill.” Perpetually.

He eyed her closely. “That's not what you were panicked over?”

“What? Oh yes. Actually, it was.” She hated to lie to him, but it was the perfect cover for her massive faux pas, so she went with it. “I'm just… My brain's a little scrambled.” She laughed. That part was definitely not a lie!

Cane grinned as he came further into her room, seemingly filling the large space with his broad frame and commanding presence. Good lord, he was a dreamboat of a man! Tall, hunky…gloriously naked!

And what an amazing lover!

Her body still burned from his touch, from everything he'd done to her, and now her clit tingled at the mere sight of him. And the remembrance of their wild and wicked ride.

Yes, she was definitely screwed. Especially now that the rain was falling freely.

Cane had evoked the deepest of her emotions, had pulled them all to the surface. And she'd let them consume her, run rampant. She'd experienced the gamut of the rain god's powers as though she'd channeled Tlaloc this evening. Not a good thing when it was imperative she keep her secret to herself.

But she'd given herself this one evening and it wasn't over yet. She'd worry about the rest tomorrow.

Good thinking, Scarlett.

Right now, she just wanted to revel in the afterglow…and then heat things up again with Cane.

“Will you stay the night?” she asked. Dangerous, yes. But surely one sleepover would be okay.

He nodded and climbed into bed with her. “I have a meeting first thing in the morning but…I'm nowhere near done with you.”

She smiled. “Lucky me.”

His jaw clenched. “We'll see. I'm afraid you won't be able to walk tomorrow.”

Bev reached for him, loving the feel of his cool skin against her hot flesh. Loving his weight on her when his body covered hers. She spread her legs wide to accommodate him, ran her hands over the hard muscles covering his strong arms, broad shoulders and wide back.

Feeling the raised scratches, she frowned. “Shit. I dug in,” she said as the pad of one finger trailed along a fresh wound that ran from the nape of his neck to the small of his back.

“Don't worry about it,” he said as his lips grazed her neck. “I'm a quick healer.”

She thought about her own injury earlier in the week. There wasn't a trace of it left. He wouldn't heal so fast. “I'll try to be more careful.”

“Not on my account.” His pelvis ground against hers, his erection strong and full and sliding along her slick, swollen lips. “Knowing you're turned-on makes me even harder.”

“More good fortune for me,” she said. And meant it. As complicated as this was, as careful as she needed to be to ensure she didn't reveal too much about herself, slip up on dates or adventures or any other clue that might make him question her age, she cherished this connection she had. With this incredibly hot, sensuous man.

He lifted his head from her throat and stared down at her. His tone was deadly serious as he said, “You're obviously not frail. Stronger than I'd ever imagined, in fact. But, Bev,” His eyes seemed to search hers before he added, “I could hurt you. I'm much stronger than you. Much more powerful than you know.”

She rubbed her thumb over the furrow of his brow. He was so damned sexy. And sweet. Protective. The way he looked at her and touched her made her feel like she belonged to him. Like he'd claimed her on some animalistic, territorial level.

For tonight, she'd be his. And would covet every second with him.

“Seriously, you haven't hurt me and you won't.”

“I'm just saying…” He frowned. “I lose control with you.”

“Mm, yes, you do.” Her fingers twined in his silky, obsidian hair. The strands were thick and long and unruly. “And I like it.”

No, she loved it. But perhaps that was a word best avoided.

He studied her closely, as though committing every detail of her face to memory. Then he said, “You are so beautiful. So damned sexy. And I want to be inside you again.”

A shiver of delight chased up her spine. “I'm as ready as you are.”

“No,” he said, a wicked glint in his black eyes. “Not yet.”

He slid slowly down her body, his mouth blazing a trail to her breasts. His tongue teased her nipples tighter, his palms caressed and squeezed and titillated. Her breath quickened and her body coiled tight with anticipation and the need he instantly sparked.

“Cane,” she whispered his name. Granting him permission. Reminding him of what she wanted most. He'd take his time pleasing her, she knew that now. But that wouldn't stop her from wanting him inside her, stroking her inner depths, pushing deeper, coming inside her.

Her pussy throbbed, desperately in need of feeling him hard and full and unrelenting. Unyielding. Goddamn, he'd been so hard when he'd been inside her! He'd stretched her, filled her. Made her feel complete.

As much as she enjoyed everything he did to her, it was pure torture to know he had an erection and wasn't using it! The foreplay was spectacular, but the main event was addictive.

He moved further south until his mouth covered her and she knew she was in for another mind-numbing orgasm—or ten!—delivered by the hottest man she'd ever laid eyes on. His tongue stroked her lips in long, full movements that had her panting like she was in heat. He touched her so intimately, as though he'd always known her. Knew instinctively how to caress and pleasure. Knew the right pace, the right amount of pressure, the right everything!

Okay, she could wait for him to make love to her. Because what he did to her now felt so incredibly exquisite, she could lie here forever and let him drive her wild. He licked and sucked and flicked, his tongue working erotic magic on her tingling flesh, her hypersensitive clit.

Her fingers were still tangled in his hair. She arched her back and her head hit the pillow beneath her.

“That's so good,” she said. And barely recognized her own voice. It was dark and sultry and full of lust.

He pushed one finger, then two, inside her and she started to unravel. The pressure increased on her clit, the pace inside her quickened. She released the strands of hair her fingers were twisted in and instead grabbed fistfuls of crisp white sheet and satiny duvet surrounding her. He made her writhe and moan. Made her want to hold onto the sinfully delicious sensations he evoked as much as she wanted to let go of them.

When he whispered, “Come for me, baby,” she did. There was no holding back when he commanded her desire. Whatever he wanted, she would give him.

Her passion-induced cry echoed all around them, but was no match for the sound of the rain that fell even harder than before, hitting the glass in a strong, steady beat.

“Oh lord,” she groaned. Her nipples tingled, her belly fluttered, her pussy pulsed. Every inch of her felt electrified. At the same time, she ached for him. Like there was a huge, gaping hole inside her only he could fill.

“Please,” she pleaded. “Make love to me.”

His head lifted and his dark eyes met hers. Clearly, he didn't miss the change in her wording. Or the need in her voice. He saw so much, knew so much about her. With no real effort on her part. A scary yet thrilling notion. She wouldn't dwell on the downside of that reality. Rather, she found she liked how intuitive he was. How connected they were. On a visceral level she'd never dreamed of achieving. It was warm and wondrous and she would enjoy it for one night.

Moving on the bed, he left the wide V of her parted legs and stretched his powerful body alongside hers, his hypnotic gaze giving her heart palpitations. One large hand splayed over her hip and with the gentlest of nudges, he urged her to roll away from him. Propping herself on the other hip and an elbow, not quite lying and not quite sitting up, she stared at him over her bare shoulder. His eyes burned with passion and need. And so much more. His features were dark and serious, telling of his constant battle to retain some control so he didn't hurt her.

If only she could convince him he wouldn't! Good lord, would the fire turn into a five-alarm rager then!

But there was nothing she could do to assure him she was virtually indestructible. And besides, the heat factor was already intense enough to singe her to the core of her being.

His hand moved from her hip to her throat. He massaged it gently, then the pads of his fingers caressed her dewy skin as they brushed over her shoulder and then the nape of her neck beneath the thick curtain of her damp hair. When his sensuous touch slid slowly down her spine, tracing the long line to the small of her back, she shivered with wicked delight.

His eyes burned brighter. Knowing how vehemently she responded to him. Knowing how easily he sparked her desire.

But he didn't gloat. Merely continued to arouse her with exploring fingers pressed into her backside, then stroked her thigh, tickled the exposed underside of her knee. Her erogenous zones were ultra-sensitive to his touch and she felt prickly all over.

He leaned forward and placed a very soft, sweet kiss on her hip.

Bev melted. Her heart seemed to swell in her chest. Her mouth gaped open.

I love you too.

Whatever kept him from admitting his feelings, she couldn't fault him for it because it was impossible for her to say the words as well. But that did not mean the emotion wasn't there, that it wasn't growing every single second they spent together.

She ran a hand through his hair, down his neck to his shoulder. He was so beautiful. So perfect in so many ways.

It occurred to Bev that she would give up her eternity to spend a mortal life with this man.

That thrilled and terrified her at the same time.

Trouble was, she didn't know exactly what would happen to her once her secret was revealed, once she acknowledged it out loud. Would she instantly shrivel up and turn to ash? Would she start at thirty-one, the age she looked, and die from there in a natural, mortal progression?

She didn't know. And was too scared to find out.

But damn it. If she could have fifty or sixty years of bliss with Cane, sans secrets and fears, she'd give up her immortality. For him. For them.

There were no guarantees, though. She only knew of the curse, not the end result. Either no immortal descendant of Tlaloc had had their gift revoked, or it hadn't been documented. So she didn't know what to expect.

“You're the one drifting away now,” Cane said, his voice low yet commanding her attention.

She stared at him. Wanting him in every conceivable way. For as long as she could have him.

Impossible.

Shaking her head, she said, “I just can't believe how incredible this night is. How perfect it is. I don't ever want it to end.” And for the first time in six centuries, a tear welled in her eye.

How could something so beautiful and so right be so doomed?

It wasn't fair.

Then again she was immortal. Not fair either.

His lips moved to her spine, grazing her skin as they swept upward, making her shiver. Her nipples tightened. Her insides clenched tight. God, she wanted him!

When he lifted the hair off her neck and kissed her softly behind her ear, she knew she couldn't live another six hundred years without this. Without him.

Hell, she couldn't live another day without this. Without him.

“Cane,” she said, breathless and so hopelessly lost.

“It's okay, baby. We have all night.”

Thank god for that. But he didn't understand her dismay. Didn't know she wanted more than tonight. And couldn't have it.

Sure, she could stick around Savannah a little while longer, but to what point? The inevitable would only chase her, and the deeper she loved him, the more addicted she was to his touch and his scent and his words… It would only be that much more agonizing to leave him when she had to.

Why would she torture herself like that?

And to walk on pins and needles to keep her identity safe when all she really wanted to do was to peel away both their layers and expose their souls to each other. She couldn't do it.

Wouldn't do it.

But he was right. They still had tonight. She didn't want to squander their time together. It was much too precious.

“I didn't realize I had such a sensitive side,” she said on a half-laugh, trying to cover her anxiety and pain and push past them.

He didn't buy into her façade. Instead, he kissed her shoulder and said, “Believe me, Bevelyn, I never knew I could feel this way. It's not anything I'm familiar with or even…comfortable with. This is fragile.”

She nodded. “Very much so.”

He seemed to swallow down a hard lump. Of emotion? Regret? Hope? She wished she knew.

“I don't know how to make this last past tonight,” he said in an honest tone.

His candid words touched her heart as much as they broke it.

But how could she fight or deny or refute them?

She couldn't, of course.

“I feel the same,” she admitted. “There's so much about me that you don't know.”

“And you, me.”

They were back to the conversation they'd started—and abandoned—in the foyer before passion had overcome them and no words had seemed significant enough to convey the way they felt about each other. The passion that naturally arced between them. The desire that still burned so bright.

“But…” She wanted to say there had to be a way. Yet how could she? It would be a lie. Anything they attempted to build together past this night would all be based on a lie. A monumental one. A fragile one, as he'd said.

Bev sighed. “Maybe…if…”

I knew more.

More about the curse that would revoke her immortality if she told him her secret. If she simply started a mortal life from this point… But how could that be, really? Her insides didn't match her outsides. Even though she claimed to be thirty-one, she really looked to be no more than twenty-five or six. But internally? Good grief. Six-hundred-year-old organs. Come on. She'd die on the spot. Within seconds, no doubt.

She closed her eyes, turned away.

“I can't just walk away come morning,” he said to her, contradicting how complex this was on his side too. Clearly he was thinking the same thing she was—that there had to be a way to make this work.

Bev's insides coiled tight. Her heart skipped a few beats and that lone tear building in her eye crested the rim and slid slowly down her flushed cheek.

“Maybe it's for the best.” How that could be, she didn't know. When two people were this deeply connected, how could they simply walk away from each other?

Damn it.

She'd never faced this problem before because she'd never allowed it to happen.

No. That was totally wrong and she knew it.

This problem had never been an issue for her because she'd never met Cane. Until now. Apparently even immortals could have soul mates and he was hers. As sadistic and painful and detrimental as it was. He would always be the one to fill her heart and soul and mind. And she would spend an eternity remembering this night. And long for him. Pine for him.

She choked back a sob, lifting her head to face him. “This is so much more complicated than you can imagine. I came to Savannah to start over. But I can't do that with you. For reasons I can't explain, it's just…I can't.” And damned if the tears she'd never shed before didn't flow like rivers from her eyes.

Cane's arms wrapped around her. The rain outside sluiced down the windows in sheets, like the tears that streamed down her cheeks. As though the heavens and Tlaloc were weeping with her.

His lips pressed to her temple before he said, “Just take a deep breath. We're trying to move heaven and earth in one night, Bev. We've got to slow down. Think this through. Figure it all out.”

She sucked in a healthy gulp of air, held it, let it out slowly. She was shaking from the inside out and knew he was right. They were moving so fast. But wasn't that the way of it when you knew exactly what you were doing, knew exactly what you wanted?

They wanted each other. They'd embraced that realization tonight and had thrown themselves into the moment.

And then so much more had transpired.

Her eyes scanned his too-handsome-for-words face until they locked with the obsidian stones that would forever haunt her. “You've been so worried about hurting me. I could do the same to you.”

No need to explain it'd be emotional not physical pain. The sheer size of him was evidence enough.

Nodding his understanding, Cane said, “We both have secrets.”

“Yes.”

“Something we don't want to tell the other.”

“No.” She stared intently at him. “Something I can't tell you. For good reason. A really good reason. I'd give anything to change that, but… It'd only make things worse, I think.”

His jaw clenched. “Is there someone I need to know about?”

“Oh god, no.”

He looked wholly relieved. But only for a moment. New tension darkened his features. Not necessarily over the wall she was erecting between them. It was because he had his own wall to build. She could see it in his eyes. She felt his regret deep inside her. A painful inevitability enveloped them. Whatever his secret, it was as significant to him as Bev's was to hers, regardless of relative terms.

“Let's deal with this tomorrow,” he said. “I'm not usually one for putting things off, but… If we're at an impasse right now, maybe we just need to let it lie. And besides,” his fingers skimmed over her cheek and he added, “I don't want to waste a second with you, Bev. I want to touch you and taste you and love you.”

Her lids fluttered closed. Her heart constricted. Her pussy clenched tight. He affected every inch of her inside and out. Physically, emotionally. On levels she'd never known existed.

Giving a slight nod of her head, she said, “I don't want to waste a second with you either.” Her eyes opened as she added, “I want you to touch me and taste me and love me too. And you can't even imagine how I intend to reciprocate.”

He groaned. Then his lips pressed to hers and everything seemed right again. She could let the inevitable fall by the wayside tonight. What mattered most was the time they had together.

She kissed him in return, passionately. Giving herself to him as though they had an eternity to love each other. She wouldn't hold back. If one night was all they could share, then she intended to make the most of it.

When he leaned against her, pressing his front to her back, she inched toward the mattress. Still partially on her side, not quite on her stomach, she allowed him full access to her body. One hand slid around the side of her that hovered over the mattress and cupped her breast. The other hand moved between her legs, fingering her in the way that drove her wild. Teasing her clit with a slow, circular motion, then delving deep into her wet pussy.

“I want you to come again,” he mumbled into her ear. “And again. And—”

“And you know what I want.”

He chuckled. “Baby, I'll give you whatever you want. But first—”

“First,” she said as her hand slid between them and she wrapped her fingers around his thick erection. “Let's see how hard I can make you.”

He groaned. Or snarled. It was hard to tell, the sound was so carnal and primal. And so damned erotic.

“Not sure you can top this.”

True, his cock was full and steel-rod hard. She could push him to the edge, though.

She stroked him from base to tip. In response, he went back to her clit, applied a little more pressure. Rubbed a little faster. Made her so much hotter.

Her pulse kicked into high gear. “Battle of wills,” she whispered, suddenly feeling playful.

“You really think you can win this one, sweetheart?” Three fingers filled her and she gasped as the sweet invasion made her shiver from head to toe.

“You've clearly got some tricks up your sleeves,” she said when the wave of breathlessness subsided. Sort of.

“I'm not wearing sleeves.”

“Oh yeah. Naked is damned good.”

“You're damned good,” he said. And stroked her a little harder, a little faster. “Better than that.” His voice was getting gruffer, more strained.

She resisted the urge to gloat. Instead she cupped his balls, gave a gentle tug and said, “We still haven't gotten to the fire-extinguisher sex.”

He grunted. “Goddamn. You're pushing limits now.”

“Isn't that the point?”

“I'm about to skip fancy stuff.”

She smiled. “By all means, skip. Go straight to—”

He nearly toppled her. Bev let out a laugh. His muscular body was half on top of hers and she was sprawled across the bed. The tip of his cock nudged her ass, then moved lower as he shifted into place. Pressing against her opening, but not yet indulging their darkest desires.

Looking at him over her shoulder again, she said, “I don't need all the bells and whistles. I just need you.”

Something carnal and hot flashed in his black eyes. “You have me.”

Her heart jumped into her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted him. In every way imaginable. “We already established that's not possible.” Her eyes flicked open and met his intense gaze once more.

“Just say what you want, baby.” His throat looked tight, his eyes burned with desire.

It was so simple this time. “You.”

“There you have it.”

And then he leaned forward and his cock pressed into her from behind. Not filling her. Teasing her.

She let out a low moan.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. On her shoulders, her breasts, her belly, her clit.

Losing herself in the sexual abyss, she let him push her to all new, dizzying heights. When she could stand no more, she whispered, “Inside me. Please. Now.”

He drove deep. Made her cry out from the beautiful, hot, erotic invasion.

“I love how you feel inside me.” The words tumbled from her mouth. Not the smartest thing to say, but she couldn't help it. She spoke the truth. Wanted him to know it.

He pushed deeper. His smooth, rigid chest pressed to her back, his lower body melding to hers. They became one. She'd felt that earlier, on the second floor landing, when he'd made love to her with such a fevered pitch it was a wonder the storm outside hadn't shattered the windows.

It was so much more intense now. And she couldn't escape the eroticism of the moment. The sensuality. The passion. The intensity. Both physical and emotional.

He moved inside her with full, confident strokes. Once again, one hand cupped a breast, the other teased her clit until she couldn't fight the sensations closing in on her.

She let them take over and called out his name as she came. But he didn't stop or let up. He pushed deeper inside her and she responded to him. Wanting more.

She could barely breathe. It didn't matter.

She reached for the intricately designed wrought-iron headboard and wrapped her fingers around the smooth, cool metal. Held on tight.

His body was pressed against hers. She wanted more. Impossible, but damn it. She wanted more.

“Fuck me,” she said.

He was already thrusting deep into her. Yet somehow managed to rush them toward a frenzied crescendo. Her grip tightened on the iron design her fingers were wrapped around as she demanded more from him.

He whispered in her ear, “Careful.”

“No,” she shot back. “Not this time.”

She wanted everything he had to give.

“Bev.” His strained voice issued a warning.

“Come inside me. You know it's what I want. What you want. Do it.”

He moved even quicker inside her. A frantic pace that had her clutching the headboard and all but screaming erotic words she'd never uttered before. Her entire body turned molten and pliable, putty in his very capable hands. She didn't sound the least bit coherent even to herself, but it didn't matter. The way he hammered into her, pleasured her, gave her all of him…

“Oh god, yes!” The first wave slammed over her, only to be followed by a tsunami of sensations as he fucked her harder, faster.

She screamed. To hell with the neighbors. She clutched the wrought iron, clung to it, holding on for dear life as he took her over and over again. There was really no beginning and no end. Her pleasure went on and on and on. And it was so much more exquisite than anything she'd ever imagined possible.

Six-hundred-plus years. And she was finally deliriously happy. Sated. Content.

And then the oddest thing happened. A sharp scrape across her shoulder. A deep growl. The feel of blood trickling along her skin. And then…

Nothing.

CHAPTER 8

The sound of the drywall caving against his weight as his shoulder slammed into the wall across the room echoed in his ears, along with the erratic pounding of Bev's heart.

The taste of her blood lingered on his tongue. One small bead remained on his bottom lip.

Something's not right. Aside from the fact he'd accidentally lacerated her skin with his teeth.

Unintentional.

He'd opened his mouth to let loose a sound welling within him that bordered on a roar of erotic pleasure. He'd been wild with ecstasy, so close to his own completion yet still wanting to give her more.

She'd moved unexpectedly, practically clawing her way up the wall as he'd pushed her higher and higher. Making her scream and moan and come. Repeatedly.

And his sharp teeth had sliced her skin.

Jesus, he'd been damned close to losing it completely this time. He'd never known such passion and excitement. Such erotic intimacy. Such sexual exhilaration.

But as soon as he'd gotten his first taste of her, everything had changed.

He'd forced himself away from her. Was shocked he'd found the resolve.

Then again…not so much.

Because something wasn't right.

The notion had registered with lightning-quick speed in his mind, flashing like the biggest, brightest beacon. And it still haunted him.

Something's not right!

His gaze landed on Bev, curled up in the middle of the bed, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling in staccato beats. Her eyes were wild with orgasmic delight yet tinged with confusion and uncertainty. Perhaps even a hint of fear. She stared at him like he was some untamable, rabid animal.

And in some ways, he was.

But no… He wasn't advancing on her, wasn't even remotely close to attacking her. Ravaging her. Draining her.

Because something most definitely was not right!

“Cane?” Her tone was soft, tentative. So as to not startle him? No sudden movements and all that?

He almost laughed, but this situation was much too serious to be comical. He had no intention of hurting her.

“You're safe,” he said to placate her, calm her.

She shifted on the bed, came up slowly on her knees. Her eyes were glued to his as though she were afraid to look away for even the briefest of moments.

Shit, the last thing he wanted to do was scare her.

“I told you I wouldn't hurt you. I'm sorry about the teeth… It was an accident, I swear.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “It's nothing, Cane. Just a scratch. I wouldn't have even noticed if you hadn't…flown across my bedroom.”

And that's when it all fell into place for her.

He could see the dramatic change in her pale eyes. The realization, the shock, the… acceptance? No, that couldn't be right.

He shook his head. “Bev—”

“You're not…normal,” she said, her voice tentative again, though it held a hint of something akin to excitement. Again, that couldn't be right.

What the fuck was going on here?

She climbed off the bed. Still moving warily. Still on guard, preparing herself in the event he advanced on her.

Stepping around the tall metal post on one side of the footboard, she said, “Your skin, your eyes, your strength, your reaction to my blood. Everything about you is… different.”

“Bev,” he tried again.

“It's okay,” she said. “Really. I understand.”

“I don't think you do.”

“You're a vampire.” Her tone was bold and confident now.

Cane's mind reeled.

How the hell…?

And what did it matter how she'd figured it out? All that mattered was that she knew.

Holy fuck.

“Look, you're—”

“It's okay,” she repeated. “Let's just…let it lie. Your secret is safe with me. Really.”

And he could see in her eyes that was the truth. Acceptance shone through, bright and undeniable.

But…how? Why wasn't she terrified? Why wasn't she running for the hills, screaming bloody murder?

Why—

I could hurt you. He'd warned her.

No… You can't. She'd said. You won't. Trust me.

And that's when it all fell into place for him!

The smell of her blood was intoxicating. It stirred his soul as much as her beauty did. But the taste of it…wasn't…right.

“Shit,” he whispered. The tip of his tongue swiped at the bead that had lingered on his bottom lip and he paid close attention to the taste and texture of her blood.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

There was no sticky, coppery flavor. There was nothing about her blood that reminded him of the human blood he'd sampled his first few decades as a vampire, before he'd banned himself from indulging in that insanity and had found other ways in which to satiate his need and sustain his existence.

She didn't taste like a human. Or a mortal. Her bland blood didn't match the aromatic bouquet that had filled his nose all week.

And she knew about him.

Knew about vampires.

Immortals.

Because she is one.

The realization slammed into him as hard as he'd hit the wall.

“Bev,” he said, an elation he'd never known before gripping him tightly, exciting him.

Because this meant so much!

It was true! He couldn't hurt her. Ever!

And he didn't have to hold her at arm's length after all they'd experienced tonight. There was no longer a need to worry about her reaction to his secret. No need to fear he'd kill her if he lost full control with her. No need to agonize over living the rest of his eternity without her!

“You're—”

“No!” she shrieked, cutting him off. Her eyes popped open, wider than ever. Her hands flew into the air, releasing the sheet so it fell to the ground. Momentarily distracting him. But then she rushed on. “Don't say anything else. Just leave it like this. Please, I'm begging you, don't—”

“But you're immortal too!”

“No! Oh god, no!” She turned away from him, made a strange, strangled sound and then sank to her knees.

“Bev!” He rushed to her side. “Sweetheart…it's okay. Everything's okay.”

Isn't it?

Her head shook violently from side to side, sending long strands of dark auburn hair flying in all directions. “No, no, no!” Her long arms wrapped around her waist and she hugged herself tightly.

Cane's panic welled within him. “Bev…please.” He tried to gently coax her to unravel herself and look at him. She refused.

“Oh damn it,” she moaned. In pain.

Alarm replaced his panic. “Bev, for god's sake. Tell me what the hell is happening!”

When a scream of sheer agony tore from her lips, it tore him apart.

“Bevelyn!”

“I can't…stop it.” Terror and pain were wrapped around each word. “No!” she cried out as one hand finally released her side and slapped against the hardwood floor, only to cause her to scream again from the obvious sting.

He was frantic now. It was like some unforeseeable evil had been unleashed within her body and was taking over.

Hurting her.

Killing her!

Cane's hands gripped her shoulders as she began to shake. Her sobs, her grief, her agony were nearly the death of him. He felt helpless…couldn't help her because he had no fucking idea what the hell was happening to her!

“Bev, please,” he begged, his voice as tight as his coiled nerves. “Tell me where it hurts.”

“Everywhere!”

But how? She was immortal!

He knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt. So what was happening to her?

“Not…supposed…to…know…” She sounded as though a million daggers were spearing her at once. “It's gone!”

What the fuck?

“Damn it!” he roared. “I don't know what you're saying! I don't know what's happening to you. I don't know how to help you, Bev!”

And that made him half out of his mind with worry and fear and the kind of pain he'd never experienced before. Sharp, acute. Full of hopelessness and dread and despair.

Holy hell! It wasn't like he could call 9-1-1. She was immortal—no doctor could save her!

Finally, her hand shot out and gripped his wrist. Weakly. Lacking all the strength she'd possessed before.

Her head lifted, her eyes watery and full of grief. Tears streamed down her face. Nothing short of pure torture twisted her once-breathtaking face into something agonizing to look at.

Rage ripped through him at this unknown evil that was eating her alive, causing her so much pain.

“Bev.” His voice was but a whisper. He wanted to tear apart whatever it was that possessed her. With his bare hands, his teeth.

He wanted to shred it, torture it, make it pay for every ounce of torment he caused her.

And then suddenly, she collapsed against him. As though the demon had left her body. Drained her completely, leaving her limp and nearly lifeless in his arms.

“Bevelyn,” he said in a soft, albeit tortured, tone. “Sweetheart… Say something.”

“It's gone.” Her voice was hoarse and there was a note of defeat that perplexed him.

If she truly had been possessed and that demon had been exorcized, why the hell was she now just a shell of her former self?

“I'm dying,” she said. Answering his unspoken question.

And his gut twisted so tight he really could take on a legion of demons at this very moment and tear every single one of them to pieces. His fury raged within him, bright and voracious.

“I don't understand,” he said. Feeling helpless all over again. None of this made sense to him.

“You weren't supposed to know,” she said, still whispering as though there weren't enough umph left in her to give him anything more. “No one was supposed to know. And now…” She sighed in obvious despair. “It's gone.”

“What's gone?” he asked in a quiet voice, trying to not overwhelm her. Trying to tamp down all the emotions consuming him.

“Immortality,” she said and glanced up him. Then she winced. “Oh!” Her head ducked into his armpit and she shuddered in his arms.

“Bev.” His insides twisted tighter. “Tell me exactly where it hurts.”

“I did.” She eased away from him but didn't make it far. Her eyes bulged in their sockets as she stared at her naked body. “Everywhere.”

Cane leapt to his feet and swore a blue streak. He paced in short, quick patterns and then swore some more.

“Not your fault,” she said.

He stared down at her body. Where had all those bruises come from? Just an hour ago, she'd been in top form—perfect and lovely. Exquisite in every way.

Now…

“Goddamn.” He swiped a hand over his face. “Bev.”

“It's just because I'm not immortal anymore.” Her voice was still weak. Still filled with fear and uncertainty.

Cane didn't understand. What the hell had happened tonight?

To them? To him? To her?

“Can you help me, please? To the bed?”

He scooped her up carefully in his arms, gathering her close, though mindful of her new fragility. And all those purple marks marring her bronze skin. Especially between her legs and on her hips. Placing her gently on the bed, he pulled the duvet around her. She leaned back into the pillows and stared at him a moment, as though she was still processing all that had transpired in the last half hour. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her watch him.

Finally, a wry smile touched her lips. “This is ironic.”

“What is?” He reached out to her and brushed strands of her hair from her wet cheeks.

“I was going to tell you my story. Tonight. I thought you were mortal and I wanted to be mortal too. So we wouldn't have to part in the morning. So we could be together.” She shook her head and let out a sharp laugh. “I didn't know what would happen if I did, though. I mean, I know the `rules'. I'm a descendant of the Aztec rain god Tlaloc.” Her gaze shifted to the patio doors. The rain had stopped, the storm had retreated. The night was quiet.

“Did you…?” No, of course not.

But she nodded. “Start the storm? Yes. The first day I arrived in Savannah. The very second I laid eyes on you. Because of my attraction to you. It's part of who I am—was.”

“How'd you lose your immortality? I don't understand, Bev.”

“Part and parcel of the gift. Secrecy is key. It's how immortals exist in this world. You know that.”

He conceded the valid point with a nod.

“I've kept my secret for six hundred years. It was destined to come out eventually. Too hard to hide it as the world changes.”

“Six hundred… Jesus,” he said and let out a low whistle. “You're damned old, baby.”

She laughed softly, despite the dire predicament. “And how old are you?”

“Two hundred and change.”

“Mm, that makes me the oldest cougar in existence.”

One side of his sexy mouth jerked up. “Interesting twist.”

“What I didn't know,” she continued on, “Was what would happen as soon as someone found out about me. How fast the aging process would catch up with me. How long I'd have…”

Guilt seized him as he grasped the full implication of what had happened tonight. “Christ, Bev. I'm so sorry. I've condemned you to—”

“No!” She reached for him, gripping his biceps. “I was going to tell you, remember? It doesn't matter how you found out. It was inevitable. And obviously I'm not shriveling up and blowing away just yet, so that must mean I have some time on my side.”

His eyes narrowed on her. His gut twisted. “I agonized over how little time we'd have together when I thought you were mortal. And then I realized you weren't and I…” Words failed him. There was no describing how elated he'd been to know he couldn't hurt her and that he'd never lose her. That they could spend an eternity together.

Only to have that bubble burst as quickly as it'd swelled.

“Fuck.” He moved away from her and began to pace again. “You're dying.”

“Yes.”

“And I could easily kill you if I stayed with you.”

“No. You fought it.”

“I cut you.”

“It was an accident and we both know it.”

“But your blood…” He whirled around and faced her. “When you were immortal, it had no flavor to it. Now that you're mortal, that'll change. And I'll crave it.”

She stared at him a moment as something seemed to occur to her. Something dark and mysterious and…

“No,” he was quick to say, shaking his head vehemently. Realization dawned all too quickly for him. “Don't even travel that path, Bev. I can't. I won't!”

“But you could save me,” she said in a frank tone. As though she'd already made up her mind.

“Not the way you're thinking. I won't damn your soul for all of eternity.”

“Cane,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “It would change everything. I'd be strong again. Immortal. Without the threat looming over me that it might be taken away some day. You wouldn't be able to hurt me. You wouldn't want my blood.”

“You seriously want me to make you a vampire?”

“It's our only hope.”

And damned if he didn't know it.

Yet it was impossible. He refused to do it. He'd sworn after Amy that he'd never turn a human again. He'd tried to help the girl and had only made her existence a living hell—a worse nightmare than before he'd turned her because as a mortal, the possibility to kill herself existed every day. As an immortal…not so much. Cane still hadn't fully forgiven himself, had worked damn hard to redeem himself.

So to curse Bev, the woman he loved… No. It was completely and wholly inconceivable.

“It's out of the question,” he said, his tone firm, holding a note of finality. “Don't ask again.”

“You're being stubborn and unreasonable.”

“You have no idea what I went through when I changed. No idea what I went through with A— Just know I can't do this, Bev. Especially not to you.”

“Fine,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest. And winced from the pain that obviously still plagued her.

Making him cringe.

“You'll just have to be more careful with me,” she continued on. In a tone meant to sway him, he was sure. “I'm mortal now. You won't be able to make love to me the way you did tonight.”

“Nice tactic,” he said in a dry tone. “But the answer's still no.”

“Jesus.” She rolled her eyes. “When you dig your heels in, you damn near root yourself.”

“Not `damn near',” he countered. “I'm serious about this, Bev.”

“We'll see,” she added, almost under her breath.

He considered telling her about Amy. Surely she'd understand and wouldn't ever bring this up again.

Didn't she know that not turning her when he knew he could—and they'd have the rest of eternity together if he did—was just as painful as if he broke his oath to himself and did the deed? There was nothing easy or fair about this situation. He was already remorseful and angry with himself for inadvertently having changed her fate. Stolen centuries from her. To top it off, she was bruised and battered because of the way he'd made love to her. Because as an immortal, she'd been strong and able to withstand his passion. But as a mortal… No way.

She was right. He really would have to be more careful with her.

Or stay away from her altogether.

Back to that moral dilemma. The one he hadn't wanted to face all evening. He'd wanted to make love to her over and over again, make their one night together last as long as he could. Then he'd leave. Leave town. Leave Bev. Leave everything he'd ever wanted, needed and desired far behind.

Europe. He'd intended to go back. He'd made up his mind when they were talking about the complexity of their situation earlier, not fully knowing how the other was truly impacted by this unexpected romance. This passionate love.

Damn it. He really did love her. And it would be the worst kind of torture to live without her. To worry over her. To learn, someday, that she was gone for good.

Dead.

How would he ever live with that?

His fists clenched at his sides.

No, the worst torture would be if he turned her and she despised him in the end for doing it.

The way Amy did.

“The sun's coming up.”

Bev's soft voice penetrated his dark, dismal thoughts. His head snapped up and he stared at her. So beautiful. So fragile. So perfect, even as a mortal.

“Even my closet has a skylight,” she said. “There's no escaping the sun in this house.”

He nodded. “I can't take you with me. It might terrify you. To see me during the day.”

“It wouldn't. You'd still be you. But I'll stay here. Moving isn't really an option right now.”

He sat back down on the edge of the mattress, carefully. His fingers swept over her jaw up to her warm cheek. “It kills me to know you're in pain.”

“It'll pass. I don't feel like there's an excessive speed to the inevitable deterioration of my body. My guess is I'll heal just fine. Only infinitely slower than I'm accustomed to.”

His gaze dropped to her hand. The one that been sliced open by the kitchen knife a week ago. “You really will have to be careful, Bev. Please. For me.”

She smiled. “We wouldn't have to worry about that if you—”

“No.” He stood. “Try to rest. I don't suppose you have any painkillers?”

“Never needed them. I don't even have a first-aid kit. I lied about that, sorry.”

“Necessity,” he said, understanding completely. “I may not be as old as you, but I've been around long enough to know the drill.”

“You don't have to rub that in, you know?”

“I can get a little mileage out of it. I've never made love to a six-hundred-year-old woman.”

“You can be an ass sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” He winked at her. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips gingerly across her forehead, suspecting even her lips ached from his fervent attention. “Sleep, okay? And I'll be back tonight.”

“Will you?” she asked. Her eyes locked with his, searching them. Already anticipating his necessary lie.

“Yes.”

“I love you,” she said, clearly knowing the impact that would have on him. On his decision to leave her. If he allowed it to. “I always will. Forever. Even long after I'm gone.”

“And I'll love you long after you're gone.” A fate worse than death, actually.

Her mouth gaped. “I forgot…how the pain of loving someone no longer with you can haunt you for the rest of your existence. To mourn for them for centuries…” She shook her head, contrite. “I'm sorry. There's absolutely no humor to be found in any of this, no matter how hard we try.”

She clutched the duvet to her bare chest and reminded him, with sorrow in her eyes, “Sun's coming up.”

There would be shadows in the courtyard from the tall oak trees. But he needed to go now anyway. Before he caved. Before that forlorn look on her face and the idea of spending an eternity without her made him give into her request. It was what she thought she wanted. And even though he would give her anything she ever asked of him, this was one thing he had to hold his ground on. To turn her would be selfish and self-serving. And if she loathed him in the end, it'd kill him.

“Sleep,” he repeated, fighting back the wave of emotion that threatened to consume him as intensely as his passion had.

She settled deeper into the bed against the pile of plump pillows, closing her eyes and drawing a breath.

Cane turned to go. His clothes were downstairs. He'd collect them on his way out the west side door that faced his house. As he passed under the doorway of her bedroom, she whispered, “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

They both knew it was a vow he wouldn't—couldn't—keep.

CHAPTER 9

The void within her was palpable. Painful. The worst kind of torture she'd ever known.

It had nothing to do with her sudden mortality and fragility and everything to do with losing Cane.

He wouldn't come back for her. She knew he'd spend the day making arrangements and come nightfall he'd be long gone. Hadn't that been her initial plan when she was immortal and thought him to be a mortal human being?

Ironic, indeed.

And the most horrific twist of fate.

Helplessness and despair crept up on her, two emotions she'd never indulged in. Had never allowed herself to be in a position to experience. She'd never wanted to lose her heart because this was the end result. It was impossible to make a relationship work when one was immortal and the other wasn't. And it was even more complicated and dangerous because Cane was a vampire. He was deadly.

He was also her salvation.

Christ! As if she needed fate to mock her further!

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to tamp down all the dismal feelings welling inside her. Tried to think, concentrate, focus. On finding a solution. Because there had to be one. How could two people love each other this passionately—physically as well as emotionally—and not find a way to be together?

He's a vampire. You're a mortal. Dream on.

No!

She'd never been the cynical type. She wouldn't start now, even if the hourglass that was her life had been flipped over and the sand was slowly running out.

There had to be a way.

As she thought about Cane and the evening they'd spent together, the fiery intimacy they'd shared, she worried that her battered body would torment and haunt him. It was certainly an enormous wake-up call to know what her mortal body couldn't withstand. Another point that was not in her favor.

As if she and Cane could make love delicately.

Not a chance in hell!

There was way too much passion between them. Too much fire and desire.

Damn, she wasn't helping her plight to keep them together.

Stifling a yawn and wishing she had something to help take the edge off the throbbing of the bruises, she hoped she was wrong about Cane. That he wouldn't break his promise. That he'd come back tonight.

He had to come back tonight.

Or perhaps she'd go to him, just before dusk so he couldn't avoid her, because he wouldn't leave the house until the sun set.

Yes. That was a good plan. Proactive.

Another yawn. And then a wave of exhaustion consumed her. She was beat.

Minutes later, Bev was fast asleep.

* * * * *

Only to be awoken some time later by the most excruciating pain in her neck. She let out a shrill cry as her throat burned and her mind blurred.

What the hell?

Her hand flew to her neck as an insidious laugh filled her quiet room. She hadn't turned the light off before falling asleep and her eyes snapped to the far corner where a dark figure stood. It was nighttime already—Bev had slept the whole day.

Beneath her fingers, she felt the warm oozing of blood. And given that the woman who stepped out of the shadows had a fresh crimson coat on her lips, which she slowly licked off as though savoring every drop, Bev knew instantly what the hell had just happened.

“Who are you?” she demanded as she lifted the duvet to her neck and pressed it against the puncture wound. The female vampire had only gotten a quick taste. Intentional, Bev suspected, for there was definitely evil at play here.

“Didn't Cane tell you about me?”

The vampire was of medium height and slight build. She looked to be no more than sixteen or seventeen. Her dirty blonde hair was wild and tangled. Her clothes were plain and dated. And her eyes… As black as Cane's yet they glowed with a sinister, menacing look that alarmed Bev.

“I'm Amy,” she said, her tone dripping anguish. “His pet project gone horrifically awry. And you, my dear mortal, are the payback I've waited impatiently for.”

Before Bev could move, the vampire flew across the room and toppled her, pushing her back down on the bed as her fangs sank deep.

One good scream was all Bev got before she felt the life being sucked from her.

Cane heard Bev's cry of pain and horror and a sick feeling gripped him. He dropped the box he'd been packing for storage, and was crashing through the French doors of her bedroom moments later.

He reeled from the vision before him. His worst nightmare come to life and he hadn't even known it'd existed. Because he'd thought Amy was long gone.

Her head snapped up from Bev's neck and she glared at Cane, her eyes wild. Blood dripped from her open mouth.

Bevelyn's blood.

“No,” he barely managed to grind out. His fists clenched and the desire to rip Amy's limbs from the sockets tore through him. His gaze shifted to Bev. Her eyes were closed and her body was limp in Amy's lanky arms. Her chest barely rose and fell.

She was dying.

“You went too far this time.”

And he launched himself across the room, his body connecting with the mad vampire's. The inertia sent them sailing into the wall, putting a sizeable hole in it. Rage and fury made him wrap his large hands around Amy's thin neck and squeeze tight. She was a vicious vampire, but no match for Cane. Especially now, when he was furious and in such agony over losing Bev.

“I can't believe you fell for a mortal,” Amy choked out.

He increased the pressure until her eyes were bulging in their sockets. “I can't believe you're so suicidal.”

“Hate…you…” Was the most she could manage.

Cane released her. Crazed with anger, he flew across the room, gripped one arm of the intricate, wrought iron design that comprised Bev's headboard and ripped it away from the wall. The metal gave out under his supernatural strength, the twisting and tearing of it echoing around him.

Before Amy could say another word or hurt anyone ever again, he whirled around and hurled the jagged metal spear at her. It drove deep into her heart just as she was about to speak. She stared at him with her crazed, sinister eyes large and round with shock. Her hands curled around the metal that pierced her heart. And then a breath later, she collapsed to the floor.

He'd burn her later. And be relieved he'd destroyed her. It'd been a long time coming.

“Cane.”

His head whipped back to the bed. He climbed onto it and lifted Bev's limp body into his arms. Her voice had been but a whisper. Her eyes were still closed. But she'd heard him and was still hanging on.

“Goddamn it,” he said on a strangled breath. Shoving hair off her face and fighting the hunger that welled within him at the smell and sight of her blood, he tried to get a grip on his emotions.

He'd never been this devastated, this distraught.

This enraged.

“Save me.”

She barely had the breath to speak, he could hear it. See it. Feel it.

Time was clearly of the essence, but… “You saw what happened. I turned her. And she was pure evil.”

“I'm…not…Amy…”

His eyes squeezed shut. There was nothing more painful for him than this moment. Knowing he'd lose the only thing he'd ever wanted—the only woman he would ever love—if he didn't act this very second.

But to damn her soul. To make her a demon. How could he?

“Please.” Her voice was even weaker, dying instantly on the warm, night air.

“Forgive me,” he said, his tone strained as every ounce of humanity he'd finally gained was threatened by this horrible turn of events. But to lose Bev… He'd be a mad vampire without her. Twisted by guilt and shame and remorse. Empty. Hollow.

Like Amy.

“It'll hurt more before it gets better.” That was the only warning he gave before he tore into his wrist and pressed the ravaged, bleeding flesh to her mouth. She had to do no more than let the crimson liquid trickle down her throat. Her first gulp caused her to cough and some of the blood spewed from her mouth. He sat her up, though she was practically lifeless in his arms. Her head fell back on her shoulders and he continued to feed her. Not knowing whether it was too late.

She wasn't responding, other than occasionally swallowing in a mechanical way, and choking in response. Fear seized his insides. Had he waited too long? Warred with his feelings when he should have pushed aside his own torment and done everything in his power to save her?

“Bev.” He couldn't remember exactly how it felt to go through the change. It had been so long ago. And he'd been dying like this too, the victim of a werewolf attack, when a vampire picked up his scent. There hadn't been enough blood left in his body to satiate the demon so Cane had been offered salvation instead of death. Immortality. He'd taken it, nothing more than ego driving him. He couldn't fathom losing all he'd built back in London. Hadn't been ready for death, so he'd chosen this life.

It really wasn't a choice for Bev. He didn't want to let her go. Plain and simple.

When her body started to convulse in his arms, he felt relief and guilt battle it out in his gut. The virus was spreading through her body. Her mortal self was adjusting to the immortality that would be restored to her. He held her tightly as she shook violently. Fever took hold of her and beads of perspiration popped out along her hairline and upper lip. Her lids were still clamped closed, but he could see her eyes jump and roll behind the thin skin.

Cane wiped the blood from her mouth. Her breathing picked up, erratic, but that was a hell of a lot better than the wispy, wheezing sound from moments ago.

“I'm here,” he said, careful how he handled her. She was like an epileptic and he didn't want to inadvertently hurt her. Nor could he leave her to go through the change alone. “You have a good soul, Bevelyn,” he told her. It had to survive this villainous act. “You're warm and passionate and loving.”

A strangled cry fell from her lips. She tried to speak but no words formed.

“Don't say anything. Don't fight it. Just let the change happen. It'll be days. You'll wish I let you die. But when it's all over…” He glanced about the room.

Days. Yes, he remembered how long it took. And since he refused to leave her, he'd have to get her out of here. Out of this light and fresh air she loved so much, both of which would flood the room as soon as the sun rose.

Sooner rather than later, he had to get her someplace safe. Before the change in her genetic composition made her body quake even more. And caused the screaming. He suddenly remembered that part. He hadn't witnessed Amy's change, but he recalled now the echoing of his own voice in his ears as the pain had tore through him.

Yes, he had to get Bev out of here. Now.

CHAPTER 10

Something buzzed in her ears. A low, constant humming that was annoying and comforting at the same time.

Annoying because it wouldn't go away. Comforting because that meant…

Bev's eyes snapped open. Only to be met by inky blackness. She'd never experienced a black abyss like this. Not a shred or twinkle or flicker of light. Nothing. She could see no further than…her pupils.

The air around her was warm and sticky and stale. It sickened her, so used to fresh, fragrant air was she. And the buzzing in her ears seemed to fill her head too. Aside from that, she felt remarkably good. Strong.

Un-bruised, un-battered, undead.

Holy shit. She'd lived through Amy's attack!

Excited, she sat bolt upright. Almost. Her forehead smacked against something hard, solid and unyielding.

“Ouch!” she cried out as she fell back against a pillow.

What the fuck?

Her hands shot out and she felt the walls surrounding her, confining her. Confusion clouded her brain but for a moment. A box. She was in a box.

But then clarity broke through.

No, not a box.

A coffin!

She was in a fucking coffin!

“Hey!” she yelled, loud and clear and with a noticeable amount of fury. Cane had put her in a coffin!

Oh! What a mistake that was!

“You have exactly two seconds to get me out of here!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. So loud, it was possible the neighbors could hear. Provided she wasn't six feet under. Then… Well, that would put a damper on things. The dead weren't going to rise up and rescue her.

Shit. A new thought hit her. What if Cane had buried her because he'd thought she was dead? What if she hadn't responded quickly enough to the blood she only vaguely remembered him feeding her and he'd thought she had died? What if he'd buried her alive!

“Oh no!” She'd been through too much to let it end like this. Entombed while still alive. Destined to spend an eternity inside this small, confining, stale-aired box!

Not a chance in hell!

Panic skittered through her. What if she really was six feet under?

She'd never thought it was possible for a vampire to hyperventilate but was now proving it could happen.

“Cane!” she screamed his name.

“Ah, you're awake.” His deep voice penetrated the wood surrounding her. He actually sounded amused. Probably because she was so pissed off that he'd put her in a coffin.

“Your two seconds are up!”

“You're immortal, sweetheart. Remember? A vampire, per your request. Well, okay, and my selfishness because I really couldn't imagine living one single second without you, but still…”

She smiled, unexpectedly. Unbidden. “You saved me.”

“You knew I would.”

She nodded in the dark. Yes. She knew he would. “Now let me out.”

“Let yourself out.”

Bev laughed. Then busted through the wooden lid like the box was made of paper. On her feet in the next instant, she stared at Cane, who stared back at her. A tentative grin played on his lips.

“You're okay, then?”

“Okay? No, I'm mad as hell!”

“Bev, you were dying and—”

“Not about that,” she said and smacked him on the arm. A seemingly light touch, but it physically moved him and he winced. “Oh. Stronger than I know. Sorry.”

“Yeah,” he said and rubbed his muscles. “Comes with the territory. You'll get used to it.”

She inhaled deeply. The dank smell wasn't the least bit pleasant. A single bulb illuminated the large, brick-walled room in which they stood.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“My basement.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, which was bare, as was the rest of her, she demanded, “Why in the name of all that's holy did you put me in a coffin?”

“I had to,” he said, looking contrite. And a little tortured. “You were crawling up the walls and clinging to the ceiling. Screaming and hissing and… I figured the cops would show up eventually so I had to put you…away.”

Like some deranged lunatic in need of being restrained in a padded cell? “That bad?”

He winced. “Let's just say it was painful to watch.”

She melted instantly. “Oh, Cane.” Falling into his open arms, she said, “I'm so sorry. I know you didn't want to do this to me.”

“I didn't want to lose you either. Greed won out.”

“No,” she said as she snuggled close to him, nuzzling his neck, smelling his wonderful, dark, musky, familiar scent. “Love won out.”

“Please tell me you believe that.” His voice was suddenly tight, all traces of teasing vanishing.

And she knew he'd tried to play it light with her in order to gauge her response to becoming a vampire. In order to keep everything on an even keel while he assessed the situation. Made sure she wasn't a horrible, wretched, evil creature like Amy.

Stepping out of his embrace, she stared up at him. “I heard you. When I was going through the change. I was so lost. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, but I heard you. Talking me through this. Telling me I'd be the same, that I'd still be the woman I was before. The woman you love.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “You were so tormented, having to do this to me. But, Cane, this is exactly what I wanted. To have my immortality back! So that we can be together. Forever.”

His hands cupped her face. “You still have a lot of adjustment ahead of you. Everything's different for you, Bev. This isn't like being an immortal by birthright. You'll have to get used to some necessities that will be less than pleasant.”

Ah yes. “The blood.”

“For one.”

“And no sunlight.”

“Not direct sunlight.”

“Meaning observe the rays from a dark shadowy corner?” He nodded. She sighed. “Yes, that will definitely take some getting used to. But I can still smell the flowers and the rain at night, so that's a consolation.”

“You're not…upset?”

A soft smile touched her lips. “Why would I be? We're together. That's all that matters.”

He pulled her back into the warm circle of his arms and held her tightly. An embrace that would have crushed bones when she was mortal, but which now felt just right. Dropping kisses along her temple, her cheek, her jaw, he worked his way to her mouth. His lips sealed over hers and Bev's unbeating heart burst with joy. He kissed her deeply, and when he pulled away, she reeled from the passion and excitement he so easily sparked.

“Come on,” he said as he took her hand and led her to the stairwell. “There's something I want to show you.”

She was more than happy to leave the dark, dreary basement, hoping never to return.

They crossed the living room and foyer upstairs. He removed the black button-down shirt he wore with his black jeans and boots. She slipped into it and then they stood out on the veranda, admiring the neatly trimmed town square sprawled before them, illuminated by a full moon and the antique street lamps. Bev pulled in a deep breath of fragrant air, mentally cataloging every scent that filled her nose and chased away the dank, dusty scent of downstairs.

“Absolutely beautiful,” she said, sighing contently. Then her head shifted and she stared at her Victorian, remembering everything that had happened there however-many nights ago. She had no idea how long the change had taken.

Smiling again, she said, “You fixed my house.”

Cane's gaze followed hers. “The patio doors are different than the previous ones, but as close as I could find on short notice. And the holes in the walls are repaired. I finished your paint job.”

“Nice. Thank you.” She wondered, though, how she could live in that house when it was so light and bright and airy. So many windows. She'd have to change the drapery from sheers to heavy curtains. And that would ruin the ambiance of the entire place. Damn.

As though his thoughts ran along the line of hers, Cane said, “You can move into my house. Already sun-proofed. And I have a house in the mountains too.”

“I love the mountains.” She realized there were so many things they didn't know about the other. “This is going to be fun, getting to know each other.”

He chuckled. “The Twenty Questions are gonna have to wait, sweetheart.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” His grin was a wicked one as he swept her up in his arms. “You're immortal again. I can't break you.”

She laughed. “We might want to leave the TV on, loud, to drown out my screams.”

“The brick walls are thick, baby. Scream all you want.”

A thrill of anticipation and desire chased up her spine, making her shudder in his strong arms. But there was one thing she wanted to know before they waltzed too far down Hot and Heavy Lane.

“Cane,” she asked as he kicked the front door shut behind them. “What happened to Amy?”

“I killed her,” he said without hesitation. Without regret or remorse.

“I mean…before she came after me.”

His jaw tightened for a brief moment and his black eyes clouded. “I killed her.”

Bev didn't get it. “She didn't want to be a vampire?”

“She didn't want to exist. To remember. I didn't know, didn't understand. She was living on the streets, trading her body for meth. I found her in an alley, eating food from a trash Dumpster, then vomiting it. I watched her, night after night. When she was on the verge of overdosing, I turned her. I thought…” He shook his head. Climbing the stairs to his room, Bev still cradled in his arms, he said, “I thought I could save her. That if she were a vampire, she wouldn't be a homeless, drugged-out teenager. She could have made something of herself, survived a horrible childhood and become something else. What I didn't know was that she didn't want to live.”

Bev shivered at the memory of Amy's wild, vacant eyes. “She was soulless.”

“Yes. Even before I turned her. She was just a body with a head full of horrific memories of abuse and solitude. And she was stuck with them for eternity because I made her a vampire.”

“Oh.” Now she got it. The anger, the violent rage. Amy had hated Cane for turning her because she'd been trying to escape her memories and her life. Not be chained to them for centuries. “How tragic. But how could you have known? You wanted to help her.”

He crossed to the enormous bed in the center of the room and set her in the middle of it. “I fought so hard to retain my own soul during the change.” His weight made the mattress dip as he settled beside her. “I wanted to become a vampire. I had a choice— an opportunity to continue my existence—and I took it without a second thought. And because I knew what I was doing, I somehow managed to keep my humanity. For the most part. The first few decades were…a little sketchy. I had to work hard to train myself not to prey on humans, not to crave their blood. And even hunting animals was a challenge at first. But I didn't want to be a demon. I just wanted to…still exist on this planet.”

“Lucky for me,” she said as she lifted a hand and swept her fingers over his clenched jaw. “You have to forgive yourself for Amy. She was twisted and tormented before you came along. You were just trying to help her.”

“I'm so sorry she came after you. I had no idea, Bev. I never would have left you alone if I'd known she was lying in wait, ready to pounce.”

“I believe you. And it doesn't matter now anyway. Or maybe…maybe it was a good thing. Meant to be. Otherwise.” She glanced around the dimly lit room at the boxes stacked along the far wall. “You would have left me.”

He nodded. “And it would have been the death of me. I would have understood all too well what Amy had to live with, day after day, year after year, decade after decade. The memories of you, of our night together, would have haunted me. Drove me mad because I couldn't have you.”

“That's all in the past. You can have me. All of me. My love, my body, my soul… They belong to you. Only to you.”

He pulled in a long breath, let it out slowly. “I've waited so long for you.”

She smiled sweetly. “I have you beat in that area, remember?”

“Ah yes.” His fingers deftly worked the buttons on the shirt she wore and he pushed the material over her shoulders and down her arms. “The world's oldest cougar.”

“Hey, I look damn good for six hundred and change.”

“Stunningly beautiful,” he said as his dark eyes feasted on her naked body, no longer bruised. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

Her stomach fluttered. She reached for him, her fingers burning to touch his skin, his muscles. “I want you so much.”

“You can have me,” he said. His head dipped, his lips brushing against hers as he repeated her words. “All of me. My love, my body, my soul. They belong to you. Only you. Forever.”

“Forever.” She loved that word. Loved this man. “Perfect.”

“Not yet,” he murmured.

Shifting off the bed, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and then returned to her, stretching out on top her, settling between her parted legs. Their bodies melded together, becoming one again. When he drove deep into her wet pussy, making her cry out from the intense pleasure that rocketed through her more acutely than ever before, he added, “Now this is perfect.”

She couldn't agree more.

Reading Order

1. Halfway to the Grave

2. One Foot in the Grave

3. At Grave's End

4. Destined for an Early Grave

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