The unauthorized reproduction or

distribution of this copyrighted work is
illegal. Criminal copyright infringement
(including

infringement

without

monetary gain) is investigated by the FBI
and is punishable by up to 5 years in
federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized

electronic

editions

and

do

not

participate

in,

or

encourage,

the

electronic

piracy

of

copyrighted

materials. Your support of the author’s
rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, places, and incidents
are the products of the author’s
imagination or used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales or
persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

A Scent of Longing

Copyright © 2012 by Cara Bristol

ISBN: 978-1-61333-269-6

Cover art by Fantasia Frog Designs

All rights reserved. Except for use in

any

review,

the

reproduction

or

utilization of this work, in whole or in
part, in any form by any electronic,
mechanical or other means now known

or hereafter invented, is forbidden
without the written permission of the
publisher.

Published by Decadent Publishing

Company, LLC

Look for us online at:

www.decadentpublishing.com

A Scent of Longing

A 1Night Stand Story

By

Cara Bristol

~DEDICATION~

To Catherine

Chapter One

“Someone

named

Madame

Evangeline emailed me to confirm my
appointment.” Lily Dansen nailed her
best friend with an accusing stare. “What
did you get me into?”

Her feet curled under her on Lily’s

sofa, Roxie Fairchild braved her scowl
without a flinch. “It’s for your own
good. You’ve moped around long
enough. You need to live again.”

“Date, you mean.”
“Date. Have sex. Get wild and

crazy. Anything!”

“No man will go out with me once

he’s finds out what I am. What happens
if I do to someone else what Phillip did
to me? I couldn’t live with myself.”
Bitterness etched Lily’s voice.

“You’re nothing like Phillip.” Her

expression gentle, Roxie squeezed Lily’s
hand. Her touch felt feverish, but Lily
knew Roxie was fine; she was the
afflicted one. “You have a long future,
and you can’t spend it alone.”

Lily’s brunette curls bounced with

the shake of her head. “I can’t date. I’m a
vampire now.” The corners of her mouth
drooped. “I’m also a terrible judge of
character.”

“You’ve made some bad choices,”

Roxie agreed.

“Married.

Wanted

for

armed

robbery. Vampire….” Lily ticked off the
losers she’d had the misfortune of
dating.

“That’s why Madame Evangeline’s

1Night Stand service—”

“—is a bad idea.”
“—is a good idea,” Roxie continued.

“You can get your feet wet before you
dive into the dating pool. An evening of
hot sex with no strings attached will help
you get your mojo back.”

Lily scrunched her nose up with

distaste. “I don’t see how sleeping with
a stranger will help me regain my
confidence. And what if he has some
horrible disease?”

Roxie chuckled. “A, that’s what

condoms prevent. B, Madame Eve
screens her candidates carefully. And,
C, you’re a vampire now! You’re
immune to everything, right?”

“That’s the only positive thing.” Lily

hugged herself. The golden color she’d
acquired basking on Santa Monica
Beach had faded to pasty white, and she
would never be able to tan again. If she
so much as stepped into sunlight, she’d
sizzle like a potato dropped into a deep
fryer. And speaking of which, she
couldn’t eat french fries anymore either.
Or pizza. Or chocolate. But none of
those things mattered.

Her throat constricted, and she

swallowed. “I’ll never have children.”
By turning her, Phillip, the rat vampire

bastard, had stolen her chance of
motherhood.

“I know, sweetie.” Roxie’s voice

brimmed with sympathy. “And damn
Phillip for that. But maybe, when you’re
ready, you could adopt?”

“Who’d give a baby to a vampire?”
“How would they know?”
“There’d be home visits from a

social worker or daytime meetings with
an agency, which you know I can’t do!”
She raised her hand to halt further
painful discussion. “Please, can we talk
about something else?”

“All right.” Roxie blinked and

smothered a tiny yawn. “Sorry about
that.”

“It’s not your fault.” She was out of

sync with the world. The clock had
struck midnight and her friend could
hardly keep her eyes open, but Lily was
wide awake. That pointed to another
reason she couldn’t date—how could
she explain her unavailability during the
day?

“There’s

no

way

Madame

Evangeline could find a guy who would
suit me.”

“She has a gift for connecting

people. Besides, I know you. I filled out
your online application with your likes,
dislikes, and character traits.”

Annoyance warred with curiosity.

Curiosity won. “What did you say about
me?”

“I said you’re twenty-eight, brown-

eyed, brunette, curvy, five-foot-five, a
hundred and twenty pounds—”

“Actually, I’m a hundred and thirty,”

Lily admitted.

“I figured you’d want me to shave

off a little.”

Despite her misgivings, she laughed.

“You do know me.” Her best friend
since the second grade, Roxie was the
only person with whom she had trusted
her horrible secret—even her parents
didn’t know. “What else did you say?”
She fingered her good luck charm, an
aquamarine pendant. She’d fallen in love
with the stone, drawn by its ethereal,
calming color.

“I mentioned you are a graphic artist

who works from home, likes children

and dogs, are a night person, and you
need a man with an open mind.”

A

frightening

possibility

crystallized. “Did you mention that
vamps need not apply?”

“And have Madame Eve delete the

application as a hoax? No. Besides, if
you hooked up with another vampire,
wouldn’t that be perfect?”

“Absolutely not.” Lily shuddered.

“After what Phillip did, I could never
trust another vamp.”

The odds of meeting a vampire

through a dating service probably ranged
between slim and none. Not that it
mattered, because she wasn’t going. “I’ll
email Madame Evangeline and tell her
thanks, but no thanks.”

Chapter Two

Luc Fortier opened a bottle of

French red wine and set it to breathe on
the wet bar before drawing the drapes to
expose the penthouse’s private balcony.
The lights of California’s most populous
city twinkled and gleamed twenty floors
below. He slid the glass doors open to
allow the night breeze to waft into the
suite.

Miles beyond the ocean of lights

rolled the Pacific, visible on a clear day
from the upper floors of the Castillo
Hotel, Los Angeles then disappearing

after sundown. But its fragrance
lingered, and he inhaled the briny tang.
He’d loved the ocean since his first
transatlantic crossing centuries ago.
Timeless and mysterious, the earth’s
water breathed and reclaimed life in an
endless ebb and flow. The proximity to
the sea made this one of his favorite
hotels, and he enjoyed this suite in
particular, requesting it every time he
visited the area.

Luc stepped out onto the balcony.

Stretching to his full height of six-foot-
three, he drew in a breath laden with the
perfume of potted jacaranda and crepe
myrtle trees.

Tonight would be his last one-night

stand. Each encounter reminded Luc of

what he didn’t have—what he would
never have.

He gripped the balcony railing and

stared at the city lights. The girl would
arrive soon. Madame Eve had warned
him she might get there early.

His

arrangement

with

the

matchmaker had been a good one at first.
Women fulfilled their fantasies of being
seduced by a vampire, and Luc achieved
the physical release normally denied to
him and satisfied his hunger for sweet,
fresh blood, instead having to ingest that
stale, bagged stuff. He used to enjoy the
dates.

Used to.
His spirit ached with the emptiness

of disillusionment.

Many years ago, a village seer had

foretold of his mate coming to him in the
“bloom of youth.” Although he didn’t
look a day over thirty-five by mortal
standards, he was three hundred seventy-
six years old, well past any bloom of
youth—and still unmated.

Still? He would never be mated. His

mixed blood sealed his fate.

Madame Eve had hinted she had

someone special for him this time, but
resigned to being alone forever, he had
never told her he was a Half Breed.

He had been created not by a bite, as

had all Full Bloods, but by the coupling
of a female vampire and a human father.
From his mother, he’d inherited his

physical strength and muscled physique,
excellent night vision, superior sense of
smell, and of course, immortality. From
his father, he’d acquired the ability to
tolerate the sun for short periods,
although it did give him a nasty heat
rash, and he could partake of some
human foods, although he required blood
for survival. Despite its physical
benefits, being of mixed race condemned
him to a lonely eternity. To many Full
Bloods, he existed only in myth and lore.
But those in the know considered him an
abomination.

After he bedazzled this latest human

female, he would call it quits. It had
become too painful to seduce young
ladies and satisfy their fantasies while

his hopes and dreams withered. He’d
informed Madame Eve to erase his name
from her database after this encounter.

Shoving aside his misery, he

returned inside and flopped onto an
elegant silk settee to wait.

***

“Roxie, if I didn’t love you, I’d kill

you. I don’t know how I let you talk me
into this.” Lily tromped into the high-rise
Castillo Hotel, tucked between the
swanky burgs of Beverly Hills and
Century City. An email had instructed
her to meet Luc at nine p.m.

She glanced around the lobby, half

convinced she’d be escorted off the

premises as a trespasser. Not only was
she trying to pass for mortal, but the
hotel’s splendor intimidated her. Lobby
proved a misnomer—grand foyer would
be more apt. Marble and crystal gleamed
everywhere, original artwork graced
walls and tables, and massive sparkling
chandeliers dazzled her eye. Velvet and
silk sofas squared into conversation
areas

further

anchored

by

thick,

luxurious Oriental rugs. Hand-knotted no
doubt. No machine knock-offs for the
Castillo.

The urge to flee rose within, but she

tamped down her nervousness. You are
strong. You are immortal. You are
vamp.

You are scared shitless . Whatever

made her think she could rendezvous
with a stranger?

She

pressed

a

hand

to

her

aquamarine pendant, and then tightened
her grip on the plastic handle of her
overnight case. Undecided how long
she’d stay, she had readied a change of
clothing and a well-rehearsed speech to
explain why she had to leave before
sunrise. She’d also fed before she left
home so she wouldn’t feel inclined to
chomp on her date. Just in case an
overpowering hunger swept over her,
she’d packed an emergency ration of
blood.

While

many

vamps

found

accommodating humans to donate dinner,
she preferred the more civilized

approach of using blood bank cast-offs
procured by Vampires Anonymous.

VA had helped her navigate the

tumultuous waters of the newly turned.
Connecting her with the support group
was the only decent thing Phillip had
done.

They’d dated for two months without

sleeping together. At first, she’d
mistaken his reticence to have sex as
gentlemanly manners. But as their
relationship

progressed,

and

the

physicality didn’t, she’d feared he found
something wrong with her. Phillip had
resisted all her seduction attempts until
one evening…. Oh, how she wished
he’d resisted that night, too.

She would never forget the shock of

his fangs plunging into her flesh, and the
greatest horror of all—that her body
relished it. His bite had made her come
like skyrockets in flight.

But even as she’d climaxed, she’d

fought to dislodge his teeth from her
neck—the worst thing she could have
done. He’d cut his lip on his fang, and
his blood had mixed with hers. She’d
awakened the following evening to find
him gone and only a scribbled phone
number to prove he’d been in her
apartment at all.

She’d dialed the number and found

herself talking to a VA sponsor who told
her what to watch for. Her growing
bloodlust, elongating incisors, and a too-
vivid nightmare confirmed what she’d

become.

If not for the support of VA, she

might have walked into the sunlight and
ended it all.

Since she wouldn’t date a vamp,

even the helpful members couldn’t cure
her aching loneliness or the craving for
closeness. That, more than anything, had
convinced her to go along with Roxie’s
outrageous scheme.

Sure, she hugged her parents, her

sister, and Roxie. But she’d had started
to shy away from physical contact. Her
mother had begun expressing concern
about Lily’s cold, pale skin. If she
skipped a meal and got too close to a
mortal, the scent and sound of pumping
blood ignited a craving—like passing by

a restaurant emitting delicious smells
when your stomach rumbled with hunger.
Synchronizing human contact with her
feeding schedule had become a delicate,
critical, and onerous operation.

She probed her incisors with the tip

of her tongue. Good. No fangs. Staying
full ensured they remained retracted.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched to
the reception desk before she lost her
nerve.

“I’m Cherie Lamont,” she said,

giving the desk clerk the alias Roxie had
given her when she signed her up with
1NightStand. “I have a reservation.” She
half-hoped he would find no such name
so she could abandon this crazy stunt.

“Ah yes, Miss Lamont. Welcome to

Castillo Hotel, Los Angeles. You’re in
Penthouse Suite 2004.”

Penthouse? That made it worse, not

better. She’d never stayed in a hotel as
ritzy as the Castillo, let alone in a luxury
suite.

“Shall I call a bellman for your

luggage?” the clerk asked.

She glanced at her overnight bag,

clutched so tightly her knuckles had
blanched even whiter than normal. She
eased her grip, met his gaze, and forced
a smile. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

The clerk handed her a plastic card.

“Insert the passkey into the slot, and the
elevator will take you straight to the
penthouse floor. If we can do anything at
all to make your stay more pleasurable,

please let us know.”

Pleasurable. If he only knew. Lily

coughed to cover a nervous giggle
lodged in her throat. “I’m sure
everything will be fine,” she lied,
certainty eluding her. The private
elevator whisked her to the twentieth
floor silently and far too quickly. Its
doors opened, and she stepped out into
an elegant anteroom. A gleaming round
mahogany table topped by a huge vase of
peonies sat in the center. Four doors,
two on each side, led to the penthouse
suites. Thick carpet muffled the click of
her high-heeled sandals.

She eyed her watch. Eighty forty-

five. She’d wanted to arrive before her
date to compose herself.

A huge, gilt-framed mirror leaned

against the wall. As she did every time
she passed a mirror, she glanced at her
reflection to reassure herself she had
one. VA had debunked the myth, but she
still feared she would wake up invisible
one

evening.

She

checked

her

appearance and pursed her mouth. What
had possessed her to pick Red Rose
lipstick? The shade had turned her lips
into a garish scarlet slash across her
ultra-white face.

Shit. Could I look more like a

vampire?

And if she was going to vamp it up,

why hadn’t she dressed more alluring?
Her black sleeveless knit dress trimmed
inches off her figure, but maybe she

should have flashed some cleavage or
gone shorter on the skirt. At least she’d
worn sexy underwear. She’d bought new
stuff for the occasion: an itchy, black
lace bra and matching boy shorts that
rode up the crack of her butt.

She faked a smile to verify her fangs

didn’t show and trudged off to meet her
fate.

Chapter Three

The girl stood outside the suite. Luc

reared back in shock, and his head hit
the wall.

A vampire! Newly-turned, judging

from the freshness his sensitive nose
detected through the walls. The honey of
her blood and her own unique, seductive
scent caressed him like a Pacific breeze.

A desire to copulate and to feed

stirred,

extending

his

fangs

and

awakening his cock. His heart thumped;
he’d given up on ever connecting with
another vamp. Madam Eve always had

advised him when a young lady desired
the vampire experience so he could
prepare. She’d said nothing about this.
What information did the girl have? Did
she expect a human male or a vampire?
For sure, she wouldn’t want a Half
Breed. Perhaps she’d take one whiff and
reject him. Or would she? Some females
got off on fucking a vamp from the
wrong side of the tracks.

Then again, new vampires didn’t

acquire

full

sensory

powers

immediately. Smell, such an essential
vampire sense, developed over many
months. The Fledgling might mistake him
for a human—or a Full Blood, if she
detected his vampirism at all.

Commanding his willpower, Luc

retracted his fangs. It would be prudent
to keep them sheathed until he knew
what abilities she had, and what she
expected. He could do nothing about his
erection.

Taking a deep breath, he savored the

Fledging’s delicate essence. He licked
his lips. She expressed her emotions in
her scent—hope, a longing to connect,
and fear.

She needed to be calmed, gently

wooed. Protectiveness crept over him,
spreading from his chest outward, until
the anomalous, foreign sensation infused
his entire body. His sexual liaisons with
human women had evoked little emotion
beyond lukewarm sexual desire. Female
vamps avoided him and didn’t need his

protection, but this Fledgling aroused
tender feelings he hadn’t known he had.

For the first time in ages, perhaps

centuries, genuine interest kindled, and
Luc ran his tongue over his teeth in
anticipation. Arising from the sofa, he
dimmed the lights and stepped into a
shadowed corner. He could hardly wait
to meet this girl, but wanted to observe
her before she caught a glimpse of him.

***

Lily hesitated outside Suite 2004.

What if she couldn’t go through with it?
She hoped she didn’t panic when the
moment of truth arrived. Madam Eve
wouldn’t fix her up with a troll, but that

didn’t mean she would like the guy.
Maybe he wouldn’t like her. If only she
had another way to forge a new life than
to put herself through so much turmoil.

Except she didn’t. Marriage, babies

—all the normal things—were off the
table. Roxie notwithstanding, Lily didn’t
belong with people anymore; her
membership in the human race had been
revoked. Nor would she ever consort
with another vamp; they couldn’t be
trusted. Quick, transitory trysts were all
that remained.

Her hand shook as she inserted her

key card into the slot. When the green
light over the knob flashed, she shoved
the door open. The scent touched her
first. Spicy, warm, enticing. She inhaled

to fill her nose and lungs. Her clit liked
the aroma, too, and responded with a
little quiver. Cedar? She sniffed. More
like nutmeg mixed with cinnamon and
clove, or the allspice she no longer used.
She’d have to ask what kind of
aromatherapy infusers the Castillo used
and get some. She followed the lure of
the fragrance into the suite.

Her feet sank into white carpeting so

plush it begged her to kick off her shoes
and wiggle her toes, but she restrained
the urge. She’d be removing more than
that soon enough. A single lit sconce cast
the luxurious room into deep shadows.
After the door latched behind her with a
quiet click, she set her suitcase in the
entry and tiptoed into the sitting area to

deposit her purse on a table. All the
furniture appeared constructed of old
wood, the soft pieces of silk brocade.

She paused to listen for motion in the

other rooms, of which there appeared to
be several, but heard not a sound.
Instead of the relief she’d expected,
disappointment settled on her like a
heavy winter coat. What if the guy didn’t
show? What if she’d been stood up?

Breathe, Lily. You can handle this .

Her gaze alighted on an open bottle of
red wine resting on a distinctive, olive
wood, leather-topped bar. Other than
water, red wine was the only beverage
she

could

tolerate

since

her

transformation.

Maybe she could borrow some

courage, settle her jangling nerves with a
drink. Would it be rude if she started on
the wine before her date arrived? She
picked up the bottle and studied the
label, French, from some unfamiliar
region.

“Good evening.” A man materialized

from a dark corner.

Lily screamed and dropped the

bottle.

He flew from across the room and

caught it before it hit the floor.

“Let me help you with that.” His

voice reminded her of dark chocolate—
rich and smooth, with an underlying bite.

She

stared,

mesmerized

into

immobility by his seductive tone and
aquamarine eyes that matched her

pendant. Short, thick hair, as stark as a
moonless night, swept back from his
forehead. He wasn’t a pretty man, or
even a handsome one; life had hewn the
angles of his face roughly, almost
brutally, but he exuded an indefinable
allure. Stubble fashionably darkened his
square jaw, although she had a hunch he
followed no fad—nor any man’s
dictates.

Despite her high heels, his height

forced her to tilt her head back to look at
him, a circumstance that made her feel
both overpowered and protected. Lily
swallowed. “I’m sorry…for screaming.”

“No, it’s my fault. I startled you. I

should have made my presence known
the moment you walked in. I’m Luc, by

the way.”

“Li-Cherie.”
“Chéri.” He pronounced her name

with a French accent, although he
sounded American. She rather liked how
her fake name sounded on his lips, but
wished she could hear him utter her real
one. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His
bittersweet voice stroked her like a
rough caress.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Nice?

Perhaps in a dizzying, room-spinning
way.

He took her hand in his. Like velvet

over steel, beneath the gentleness lay a
bone-crushing strength. Luc did not seem
feverishly hot the way other humans did
to her now. She, however, did feel

flushed—could vampires blush?

Her temperature spiked when he

brushed his lips over her skin, and she
could have sworn he’d licked her,
though she immediately dashed the
notion as silly. But, no man had ever
kissed her hand, and her heart fluttered.
The hard, frozen knot forged by Phillip’s
betrayal started to melt.

“Sorry my fingers are so cold. It

seems to be a permanent state these
days.” She silently cursed her need to
apologize. She wanted to appear
confident, sexy; not weak and self-
effacing.

“You feel perfectly fine to me,” he

said. She appreciated his effort to put
her at ease, although his comment could

be nothing but a lie.

He released her, but the touch of his

lips remained on her skin. “Would you
like some wine?”

“Please.”
She studied him as he opened a

cabinet and extracted two crystal
goblets. Though she’d been a vampire
for nearly a year, tonight represented a
turning point—the first evening of the
rest of her immortal life, and she wanted
to record every detail of the man who
would help her commemorate the event.
His economy of movement, the hidden
power in his hands, the sensual length of
his fingers fascinated her. A duo of
desire and nervousness twisted and
curled in a lively samba as she

envisioned him touching her intimately.

She danced away from the image in

search of something less disturbing to
focus on. His shirt. That would do. He
wore a simple, charcoal henley. Nothing
exceptional about gray cotton. Except the
knit fabric accentuated the lines and
sinews of his muscled chest and arms,
and two open buttons allowed a tuft of
dark, curly hair to peek out.

She preferred men with smooth skin,

but on him, chest hair would suit, and
she

wondered

how

that

springy

roughness would feel against her
breasts. Her nipples tightened. His arms
flexed, and the bunching of biceps
stirred a wet response between her legs
as she imagined him employing his

strength to brace her against the wall
while he thrust into her.

Good God, why did sex obsess her

so? Lily curled her fingers around her
pendant.

Of course, sex had drawn her here.
He wore black slacks, and she tried

not to stare at the significant bulge
between his legs.

Desire stirred, and her gums tingled,

signaling her fangs were about to extend.
She understood why her pussy would
respond to his obvious arousal, but her
fangs? Horrified, she clamped her lips
together and wrenched her gaze away
from his crotch, only to find him
watching her. The heat flooding her face
confirmed vampires could blush.

Thankfully, he made no mention of

her rising color or crude scrutiny, but
handed her a wine glass. “Shall we
toast?” he suggested.

She’d lamented having to forgo

chocolate after she’d been turned, but for
the first time discovered an adequate
substitute existed—no, not adequate, far
superior. His smooth tone with its rough
edge erased bon bons from the menu of
delights.

“To a pleasurable evening.” She

raised her goblet, proud of her boldness.

“To the woman I thought I’d see only

in my dreams.” He tapped her glass. “Je
t'ai attendue toute ma vie. ”

She peered up at him. “What does

that mean?”

He hesitated. “I thought I’d never

meet someone like you.”

“That’s so sweet. Is that what it

means?” she asked, disconcerted. Luc
flattered her, wooing her with sweet
nothings. Her susceptibility to his spell,
as much as his words, disturbed her
equilibrium. To settle her nerves, she
took a sip from her glass. The mellow,
full-bodied liquid warmed a trail down
her throat.

“Close enough, for now.” A trick of

the light brought an amber flicker to his
aquamarine eyes, turning them green for
an instant.

She raised her eyebrows at his

hedging comment. Curious now, she
wanted to commit the French phrase to

memory, to look it up later. Je t'ai
attendue ….

“It’s a lovely evening. Why don’t we

sit outside?” He motioned toward the
rear of the suite.

“Good idea,” she agreed.
They moved toward the balcony. Luc

rested his hand on her lower back
without

pressure,

but

his

touch

registered keenly. Her senses tuned to a
perfect pitch. Through the dim light, she
picked out individual strands of umber
and chestnut in his dark hair. In the
silence of the suite, her ears detected a
faint thumping and a rushing, like a
distant river. At first she attributed the
murmur to street traffic, but with a tingle
of her fangs, it dawned the sonance

emanated from the blood pumping
through his arteries and veins. She
licked her lips and thought of her bag by
the door. Perhaps she should have taken
a nip of her emergency rations.

By far, her strongest sense seemed to

be smell. The seductive nutmeg-
cinnamon-clove aroma she’d detected
when she entered the suite emanated
from him. It invited her to lean closer for
a better whiff. Hell, it beckoned her to
rip off her clothes and writhe against
him like a stripper giving a five-dollar
lap dance.

“So, you speak French?” she asked,

as they stepped outside.

“It’s my native language. I was born

in France.”

“I never would have guessed. You

speak English without an accent—you
sound very American.”

“I became a US citizen many years

ago.” He pulled out a chair for her at a
small table.

“I’ve always wanted to see Paris.”

She settled into the chair.

He took the opposite seat. “It’s a

beautiful city.”

When their knees brushed, an

electric charge shot up her thighs. She’d
worried whether she could become
turned on by a stranger. No problem. She
didn’t need her tingling clit or damp
panties to call attention to her arousal—
she could smell it, thanks to her
heightening

vamp

senses.

Thank

goodness

Luc

didn’t

have

the

hypersensitivity she did; that would be
too embarrassing.

VA members had alerted her that

vampirism would enhance her senses,
but she had assumed it would occur
gradually rather than suddenly. She’d
lived as a virtual recluse for the past
year, so maybe the change had been
happening and she hadn’t noticed. Or
maybe Luc served as the catalyst. He
stirred her like no man ever had.

She pressed her thighs together and

smiled at him. “Do you speak any other
languages?”

“Italian, Portuguese, Russian, and a

smattering of a few others—enough to
get directions to the restroom.” He

grinned, the flash of white sending
another zing through her libidinous body.

“What about you?” He looked at her,

the utter blueness of his eyes bewitching.

“I took Spanish in high school.

Tengo un perro.”

“You have a dog?”
“No.” Lily laughed and shook her

head. “That’s all I remember how to
say.”

Luc chuckled, and his rich laughter

caused a new surge of wetness to pool
between her legs. She took a big gulp of
her wine.

Chapter Four

Luc didn’t need to read the woman’s

expressive face to understand her
feelings; her scent shouted her emotions.
She’d gone from nervous to relaxed to
aroused, although she attempted to hide
it by playing it cool.

“It’s a lovely evening,” Lily said.
He absorbed every detail of her

face. “Beautiful.”

He suppressed a grin at his

foolishness, his silly lament that he
would never meet his mate or would fail
to recognize her if he did. He’d known

her the second she entered the suite.
Now that she sat in front of him, the long
years amounted to only a blip in time.

She reminded him of the new growth

on spring trees—fresh, light, and soft.
He doubted she’d been a vampire for
more than a year and her still-
developing senses wouldn’t pick up his
Half Breed nature, but fear pricked at
him. When she did find out, would his
mixed blood matter to her?

No, while fate could be cruel,

Madame Eve intended nothing but
kindness. Luc relaxed. The matchmaker
would not send a woman who would be
repulsed by him.

Unless Madame didn’t know she

was a vampire.

Enough! He would drive himself

insane with these thoughts. Better to
focus on how he wanted to hold her, to
possess her silken body, to drink from
her sweetness. She would feel and taste
as rich as she smelled, like the ice cream
he

sometimes

enjoyed.

Another

fragrance swirled around Chéri like a
gentle wind; he knew the scent, but
couldn’t place it. But it was a flower. A
fresh, youthful bloom.

Comprehension

jolted

him. The

bloom of youth. He’d misunderstood—
the seer had not been referring to his
age. He smiled.

“Is something funny?”
“No, Chéri. I’m just happy you’re

finally here,” he said, and watched as a

shy blush tinted her cheeks. He could
read her easily. Luc either had to smile
like an idiot or dance like a fool around
the balcony.

She wet her lips with the tip of her

tongue, and his body reacted to her
innocent gesture as if she had licked his
cock. Grasping for control, he sucked in
a breath of air, only to have her scent
dissolve like honey in his mouth.

“Would you do me a favor?” she

asked.

“Anything.” She had no idea.
“Would you call me Lily?”
That’s what he smelled. Lily of the

Val l ey. Delicate. “Is Lily your real
name?”

Madame

had

suggested

anonymity, but in matters du coeur, rules

were made to be broken.

She nodded.
“It suits you. I really am Luc, by the

way.”

“It suits you.” She curved her lips

into a heart-stopping smile.

He spied a slight sharpening of her

incisors. The tiny slip made his cock
tighten more, and his own fangs ached to
release, but he intended to behave like a
gentleman. A bold flash of fang would
violate social convention. But soon.
“Your perfume, it is lily also?”

“Dumb, isn’t it, to match my perfume

to my name?”

“No.” His eyes creased with his

smile. “So tell me, Lily,” he said, tasting
her name, “what do you do?”

“I’m a graphic artist. I work from

home. How about you?”

“I sell antiques.”
“Do you have a store?”
He shook his head. “I import. I sell

to the stores.” He could have told her
that his business, headquartered in San
Francisco was one of the largest antique
importers in the world. Or that he knew
exactly who had crafted some of his
pieces—in fact, remembered when they
were contemporary design—but he
didn’t want to discuss business when he
had far more meaningful things to focus
on. He eyed her near empty glass.
“Would you care for more wine?”

“I would. Thank you.”
He returned to the suite and brought

back the bottle.

“I don’t drink much, but this wine is

excellent,” she said.

“It’s one of my favorites.” He stood

next to her to fill her glass, and to
tantalize himself with her scent. His
cock pressed against his zipper. “The
grapes were grown in the region where I
was born.”

He resettled himself across from her

to put a safe distance between them lest
he surrender to the mounting urge to drag
her out of her chair and take her on the
open balcony. He’d stolen a taste of her
silken skin when he’d kissed her hand.
Like a single drop of water to a thirsting
man, the tiny appetizer had increased his
hunger. He had a lifetime of want to fill.

His fangs began to descend and only
with the greatest willpower did he
retract them. He’d never lacked such
control before.

“So tell me how you came to

Madame Eve,” he said to distract
himself.

When her beautiful eyes darkened,

he caught a whiff of the ocean on a
stormy day. He smelled her sadness.

Why she should be melancholy, he

couldn’t

fathom.

Madame’s

arrangements normally evoked lust or
revelry in her clients. “I’m sorry,” he
said. “If you don’t want to talk about it,
that’s fine.”

“No, it’s okay.” She straightened her

shoulders. “I need to stop acting like a

hit-and-run victim. To make a long story
short,

I

got

involved

with

an

unscrupulous man who betrayed me. He
took things from me that I can never get
back. A good friend connected me with
Madame Evangeline. She thought a one-
night stand would help me recover.”

“And what do you think?” Luc held

his breath.

Like a brilliant full moon rising in

the evening sky, her smile appeared. “I
think…with you, it will.”

He wanted to leap from his chair and

crush her in arms, but he forced himself
to slowly rise to his feet and extend his
hand. “Come, Lily.”

Chapter Five

Come,

Lily.

His

commanding

invitation hummed though her body. A
hundred frantic butterflies took wing in
her stomach, and her head felt light
enough to float off her shoulders. If
vamps were supposed to have super
strength, why did her legs wobble like a
kid riding his first two-wheeler? Good
grief, if she were still human, she’d
probably collapse into a heap on the
floor.

If I were human, I wouldn’t be here.
When she accepted his hand, the

delight of his touch traveled up her arm.
She riveted her gaze on his eyes.
Heavenly blues pulsed green.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her

against his chest. His head descended,
and her breath caught in her throat as Luc
kissed her. Satin against silk, his lips
slid over hers, stroking and exploring
her contours with a gentle brushing. The
exotic rich scent of him, of cloves,
nutmeg, and man filled her nose. His
blood sang, drumming a cadence that
made her clit pulse.

He licked her with the tip of his

tongue, and she parted her lips to allow
him to slip inside. She nearly moaned at
the pleasure, or maybe she did. She
couldn’t be sure because she’d lost all

connection to anything rational. His kiss
overwhelmed her logic and reason and
assumed control of her senses.

In a slow, graceful dance, their

tongues met and twined. The taste of him
exploded in her mouth like the popper
candies she’d enjoyed as a child, but
kissing Luc was strictly an adults-only
activity. He sucked on her tongue and
she shuddered as pleasure so sharp and
strong shot through her, she nearly
climaxed on the spot. But when he licked
her teeth, panic yanked her back from the
brink. Her pounding heart subsided
when her fangs didn’t extend. At least
not enough to be obvious. Her teeth
seemed no sharper than his.

Luc caressed her, igniting small fires

wherever he touched—her back, her
shoulders, ah, sweet mother of God, her
breasts. She arched as he covered the
mounds, tugged at her aching nipples,
sending spikes of need into her womb.
She splayed her hands over his chest,
curled her fingers into the chiseled
muscles, marveling at the contrast of his
hardness to her softness.

His hardness. That too was pressed

against her, and her abdominal muscles
clenched in apprehensive excitement.
Whispered snickers at VA meetings
insinuated that vampire men outshone
mortals, but no way in heaven or hell
could they have anything on this man.
His size caused her pussy weep with
anticipation. Desire made her teeth ache.

No one had warned her about that. She
refused to consider the horrifying
consequences if her fangs released in
flagrante delicto.

Like she weighed no more than a

puff of down, he lifted her and wended
his way through the darkened suite. She
loved being cuddled and coddled by a
man strong enough to do it. His heart
pounded against her breast. Warmth
seeped through her at his vulnerability.
In the bedroom, he set her on her feet.
Her vamp vision had kicked in, and she
could see him in the dark room, but it
was like peering through infrared night
vision goggles. Clear, but eerie, the
color distorted.

“Je t'ai attendue toute ma vie.” He

clicked on a bedside lamp. “I want to
see you properly.”

The low illumination righted the

color. Her gaze met his intense one. His
eyes glowed emerald, even brighter than
the lamp. The bloodsong had grown
louder, hers adding harmony to his
melody. She inhaled. Lord, she could
smell him—blood, arousal, and man,
melding into one irresistible, maddening
scent.

He gripped the hem of his shirt to

remove it, and she followed suit,
divesting herself of the encumbrances of
her clothing and shoes. She gaped at him
as if viewing a nude man for the first
time. All sleek lines and rippling
muscle, Luc’s body hummed with

restrained, coiled power. A Ferrari in a
man’s skin.

Biceps bulged as he stripped the bed

of its satin dressing, leaving only the
bottom sheet. He turned to her then,
stroking her from head to toe with his
gaze. How a man’s eyes could change
color begged for an explanation, but her
rising desire allowed only a passing
consideration. She’d figure it out later.
For now, she focused on committing him
to memory, so she’d have his image
along with her woolen socks for the
cold, lonely nights ahead. A dark mat of
hair

covered

Luc’s

broad

chest,

narrowing down washboard abs to nest
at the base of his cock.

Thick and long, his erection thrust

from his pelvis, the skin stretched taut,
its shaft arrow-straight, the head large,
satiny and weeping. In another flash of
movement reminiscent of when he’d
caught the falling wine bottle, he
appeared in front of her. How does he
do that?

He kissed her, and she melted into

the bliss of his nakedness, of his cock
digging into her, of his body hair
skimming like raw silk against her
beaded nipples. She rocked from side to
side to rub herself against his chest.
Even better than she had imagined. Much
better. Again, she felt that light, floating
feeling—her head wanting to disconnect
from her neck and shoulders.

She blinked when she found herself

flat on her back, the sheet cool and soft
against her bare skin, and Luc, neither
hot nor cold, but perfect against her side.

“How do you do that?” she

murmured, bemused.

“How do I do what?” He licked her,

his tongue a stroke of velvet against the
hardness of her nipple.

“Move so I hardly see it. You’re like

Superman or Flash Gordon.”

He curved his lips into a smile

against her breast. “No, just a man.” He
sucked on a nipple and she arched; he
did indeed have super powers. Hot,
sweet desire surged through her,
enlivening her blood, filling the spaces
in her marrow, until every cell vibrated.
She curled her fingers into Luc’s crisp

hair. It crackled with fire under her
hands. Amazingly, something else to
ponder another time, she could smell and
almost taste its myriad of colorful
strands like individual spices: cinnamon
for umber, anise for ebony, and his ever-
present nutmeg-allspice.

She trailed her hands from his head

to his chest and twisted the wiry hair
around her fingers. He tensed as she
journeyed lower, over his hard abs to
his groin. She fisted his cock with both
hands, and it throbbed against her palms,
the blood filling the organ hot against her
skin. Lily squeezed and stroked his
erection. Luc’s growl resonated clear
down to her clenching pussy.

Her vampire yearning had risen to its

full glory, and her sheathed fangs ached
fiercely. Only the memory of what
Phillip had stolen checked her bloodlust.
She had been wronged in the worst
possible way and had no sympathy for
her ex-lover, but she understood his
betrayal. It shocked her no longer that
he’d bitten her, only that he’d held out as
long as he did. Vamps and humans
should not mix. Herself no exception,
vampires couldn’t be trusted.

She prayed she’d last the evening

without biting Luc.

Luc prayed Lily wouldn’t hate him.

He’d erred by not informing her of his
mixed

race.

Bloodlust

compelled

vampires to bite one another when they

mated. Though Lily didn’t sense what he
was now, his blood would unveil the
truth. She would know instantly what he
was—a Half Breed shunned by vampire
society.

Would she be revolted at having

mated with him, fed from a Half Breed?

He should halt their coupling,

confess his sin now, but he couldn’t. Not
when the woman for whom he’d waited
his entire life—many lifetimes by human
standards—lay in his bed, her hands
gripping his engorged cock, her soft lips
kissing his chest. Would fate be so cruel
as to send him his life mate, only to rip
her out of his arms before night
succumbed to dawn?

If so, he needed to make the evening

count for an eternity.

He covered her mouth, licked her

lips, then swept inside to savor her taste.
He flicked his tongue over her teeth and
found only a hint of sharpness. Strange
that she hadn’t released her fangs. Only a
rare Fledgling employed that much
control. Much as he dreaded the
revelation of truth, he yearned for her
biting kiss, to have her draw sustenance
from him, for her to climax around his
cock as she did so. He ached to bite her
in return, achieve its resulting release.

He kissed her hard, licked a trail

from her mouth to her neck, and realized
his mistake. Her blood played like
symphony in his ears, her pulse a
timpani against his lips, undermining his

attenuating control. His fangs descended.

Dieu. Too soon. She would know,

and it would end. He wrenched away
from temptation.

He moved lower and sought her cunt.

She shaved, something human girls did
these days. Vampire women didn’t
groom in that manner, but she was newly
turned. The bareness of her mons
entranced him. Envisioning nothing
between them but skin and sensation
caused the base of his cock to contract,
and he had to fight for control again.
Desire swelled the petals of her pussy to
plump folds, engorged the bud of her
clit. Her fragrance, like fertile earth,
spring rain and sweet blossom, filled his
nostrils. He bent his head, curled his

tongue, and licked her clit.

Lily gasped and jerked her hips

under his touch. She lifted her head from
the

pillow.

Her

unfocused

gaze

sharpened. “Your eyes are so green,”
she murmured.

“That’s because I want you so

much.” He took a long lick from her
creaming cunt to her pulsing clit. Her
taste flooded his mouth, igniting a
ravenous hunger, and he couldn’t get
enough of her sweetness. He needed her
to unravel beneath his mouth and hands
to match the way he was coming undone.
He licked and sucked and fucked her
with his tongue until she thrashed, her
hips levitated off the bed, and she
yanked his hair.

“Luc! Now. Now!”
He scrambled to his knees and

positioned his cock at her entrance. He’d
never forgive himself if he hurt her. As
carefully as his desperation would
allow, he eased inside.

In God’s name, why didn’t he move

faster? Lily mewled with frustration and
thrust her hips upward, but Luc
continued to rock, impaling her one
teasing inch at a time, as if he feared
crushing a fragile flower. Or maybe he
intended to torture her with pleasure.
He’d brought her to the brink of orgasm
a couple of times with his mouth, only to
retreat before she’d achieved ultimate
satisfaction.

When he pressed forward to give her

more cock, she gasped with surprised
gratification. She’d fisted his erection
and noticed her fingers didn’t meet
around his girth, but she’d failed to
consider how he would feel pushing into
her cunt.

Deliciously

enormous.

Burying

himself in her pussy, he grew even
larger, harder, a massive piston gloved
in satiny skin, filling and stretching.
Claiming.

She was being turned again, only this

time into something better and greater
than herself. Something she wanted to
be. Luc’s lover.

Her extended fangs pricked at the

inside of her lip, and a poisonous

awareness spilled over her. She would
betray him; she could no more avoid
biting him than she could keep the
morning sun from rising.

She clenched her fists in the sheet,

tense with self-loathing.

He froze. Emeralds blazed, lit from

within. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.” She locked her heels around

his ass to urge him deeper. She couldn’t
resist her need for him.

Luc groaned. His cock throbbed,

stroking her internal walls with each
thrust, and she clamped her muscles
around him to hold him captive. He
braced on his forearms, his face mere
inches from hers. Potent spice oozed
through his pores to mark her with his

scent.

Luc’s buttocks bunched as he

withdrew until only his cockhead
remained in her channel then eased
forward to bury himself again, repeating
the action with a deliberation that drove
from her head all thoughts of anything
except fucking. He moved like he
intended their coupling to last for an
eternity.

Whatever had made her think slow

was bad? Sex never had been so
intensely sensate, a flurry of feeling,
smell, and taste. Her pussy registered
every inch of his shaft, the thick vein that
pulsed along the underside, the heavy
ridge encircling the smooth head. Pre-
cum wept from the tip; like a hormone-

laced shot, it fueled her lust and hunger.

Luc slid deep and dipped his head to

brush his face against her cheek.
Whiskers scraped across her skin. The
seductive melody of his blood filled her
ears. The pulsing vessels in his neck
beckoned. Her fangs throbbed from root
to point. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Lily
clenched her teeth and averted her face
in a vain attempt to stave off the
inevitable.

Another inward stroke, another raspy

caress. Luc curled a hand behind her
head and cradled her against the crook
of his neck and shoulder. Shuddering
with need, she squeezed her pussy
around his cock.

“Take what you need,” he growled.

She whipped her head back, ripping

out strands of her hair caught in his
fingers. “You don’t know what you’re
asking!”

His

green

eyes

radiated

an

indecipherable emotion. “I do.”

Lily dug her fingernails into her

palms until they bled. She thrashed her
head on the pillow. “I won’t do it.” Her
lie scarred her conscience like acid.

“You must.” He twisted his fingers

in her hair and guided her face to his
neck. His skin brushed her lips. His
blood filled her ears. Her mouth opened.
Like an alcoholic staring into a pint of
whiskey, she lunged for courage that did
not exist, slipped, and fell.

She sank her fangs into his vein.

Chapter Six

As his blood flowed into her mouth,

she fractured into two selves. Good Lily
silently stormed and railed in self-
disgust and loathing. Evil Lily gulped
greedily, moaning in ecstasy as she
gorged on her lover. As she drank, wave
after wave of orgasmic bliss turned her
muscles rigid down her to curling toes.

Luc drove his cock into her, his

rapturous growls mingling with her
cries. That her feeding gave him
pleasure did not assuage her horrified
conscience. Convulsing, he shot his cum

deep into her core, into her womb, its
very essence acting like a pleasure-
inducing drug to ignite new spasms of
ecstasy. One orgasm arced into two, then
three,

rippling

through

her

with

increasing force.

As she drank, truth crept in at first

like a discordant lullaby hummed too
soft to name. Then came the rush—a
clattering, clamoring crash of cymbals
that slammed into her brain, assaulting
her with Luc’s duplicity. His eerie eyes,
his lightning speed, his unique scent. His
taste. Oh God, the taste of him.

Vampire. Not entirely, but in every

way that counted. She jerked her mouth
from his neck.

Sorrow and feral desire contorted

his face. “Forgive me.” He threw back
his head and roared. Fangs flashed. How
had she not noticed them before? Before
she could blink, he dove and plunged his
fangs deep into her neck.

Heaven fell from the sky as hell rose

to greet it. Sight, sound, smell, and taste
merged into one singular sensation. Lily
howled and thrashed beneath him in a
convulsive dance of rapture. Surely she
couldn’t burn like this and survive.

Luc came again, filling her with his

cum as he drank from her neck. He
pounded into her with such force he
would have driven her into the
headboard had his weight not pinned her
to the mattress. He dug bruising fingers
into her arms. She bucked and writhed

as he stole his pleasure but delivered it
back tenfold.

Finally, he yanked his head back,

pumped

his

last,

and

collapsed.

Released from ecstatic torment, Lily lay
spent beneath him. His weight was no
burden, but the scent of cum, blood, and
male musk blanketed her in memories
she had wished never to relive.

At least she couldn’t be turned

twice.

Luc rolled off her, but retained a grip

on her wrist, sensing perhaps she’d
planned to leap from the bed. He sat up,
his spine rigid.

“You know what I am now.” A

muscle twitched near his eyes, blue
again like her pendant.

“You

should

have

told

me.”

Suppressed tears thickened her voice. “It
was the decent thing to do.”

Decent? Her conscience sneered at

her. She’d waltzed into the Castillo
Hotel intending to sleep with a human
man with no intention of revealing her
secret. She’d acted no differently than
Phillip. Than Luc.

No, there was no honor among

vampires.

He ran his free hand through his hair.

She remembered how it had snapped
with life under her mussing fingers,
sparked with color she could smell. Not
imagination. Vampire perception.

Head tilted, he stared into space. His

throat convulsed in a swallow. His

fingers stroked the underside of her
wrist. Lily tried to free her hand from the
unwanted comfort, but he would not
release her.

His chest rose and fell in a breath

and then he turned his head and sought
her gaze. “I regret not telling you I’m the
Half Breed offspring of a vampire
mother and a human father. I had hoped
you could overlook my mixed race.”

Offspring? Human father? He

sounded like he’d been born. Vampires
weren’t conceived; they were sired. She
remembered his taste. Vamp, but
different. She had no frame of reference
other than the wretched bagged human
blood to which Luc couldn’t be
compared. But she’d caught the hint of

human. She frowned, unable to wrap her
mind around the concept that he might
have

retained

a

portion

of

his

humanness.

How she wished she had. But that he

might be part human didn’t acquit him of
the crime of being a vampire. She
couldn’t overlook that.

She shook head. “I can’t.”
“I understand.” Anguish flashed in

his eyes then an expressionless mask
dropped into place and he released her
wrist.

The glimpse of sadness and her own

conscience pummeled her. Why didn’t
he throw her own perfidious behavior
back in her face? Why didn’t he defend
himself? Lily wanted to weep. Too many

emotions churned inside to view the
situation clearly. She had to get away so
she could think, could breathe.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” She

jumped out of bed and quickly donned
her clothing. She grabbed her shoes and,
not bothering to put them on, turned to
Luc.

An odor like a despairing sea

overpowered the aroma of spice.
Aquamarine clouded to a dull sapphire,
his jowls sagged, and an ashy gray
seeped over his skin.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, turned,

and exited the bedroom. She snagged her
purse and fled the suite.

Chapter Seven

Six weeks later

Lily awakened with a heavy heart

and an unshakable fatigue. Not an
evening passed that she didn’t regret her
impetuous flight from the Castillo. She’d
let fear and confusion overrule her heart,
and she would pay for it for the rest of
her short life. With each sunset, her
chances to find Luc grew slimmer.

She’d contacted Madame Eve, but

her office claimed to have no record of
him. With only his first name to go on

and the scant information that he dealt in
antiques, she’d searched, emailing and
phoning every importer and dealer in the
greater Los Angeles area. She’d come
up with nothing and had exhausted her
leads. And run out of time.

Lily was dying. She’d developed

some weird vampire cancer. For several
weeks, she’d sensed a tumor, still small,
but growing larger and stronger, draining
her energy. Despite everything she’d
heard, vampires didn’t live forever.

Night shrouded her bedroom in

blackness, and a glance at the clock
revealed evening had descended hours
ago. That had been her first hint of
illness; she fell asleep hours before
sunrise, slept until well past sunset, and

dragged through the hours in between.

Get moving. There are still a couple

of importers to check out. The tiny
spark of hope propelled her out of bed.
In her pink flannel jammies printed with
puffy white sheep, she shuffled to the
kitchen. She pulled a bag of blood from
the fridge, poured some into a glass
beaker, and set it to warm in a saucepan
full of water on the stove.

After drinking from Luc, she could

barely stomach the bagged stuff. Even
the thought of drinking it made her sick,
but she had to maintain what little
strength she had left. Only by heating it
to a precise temperature did it become
palatable.

Leaving the pot, she headed for the

bathroom, then halted when her phone
rang.

“Hi Roxie,” she answered. Her

friend called to check on her every
evening.

“Anything pan out this time?”
“No. I only have two places left.”
“I came up with nothing, too.” Roxie

had checked on the importers who kept
bankers’ hours. Though she’d tried, Lily
could not stay awake during the day to
call. “I’m sorry. I never should have sent
you to 1Night Stand.” Roxie sounded as
dejected as Lily felt.

“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who

ran out and didn’t even get Luc’s last
name.”

“Are you feeling any better today?”

“No. But I’m sure it will pass,” she

lied. Lily had told Roxie she hadn’t been
feeling well, but she hadn’t broken the
news of her impending death.

“If you don’t feel better soon, maybe

you should go to a doctor.”

“I can’t do that. My vampirism

would show up in my blood. They’d find
out instead of O positive, I’m V negative
or something.”

“What exactly are your symptoms?”
“I’m tired all the time.” A glance at

the warming beaker of crap churned her
stomach. “I get queasy at the thought of
feeding. Even certain smells turn my
stomach. I cry at the drop of a hat, and
my boobs hurt.” She omitted mention of
the tumor.

Silence filled the receiver.
“Roxie, are you still there?” Lily

stirred the blood with a spoon then stuck
a thermometer into the liquid. Not ready
yet. She tried not to retch.

“What about your periods?” Roxie

asked, an odd note in her voice.

“Vampires don’t get them.”
“Sweetie…is there a chance you

could be pregnant?”

“Of course not. Vamps can’t get

pregnant,” Lily responded. Except…Luc
had been born, not sired. Oh God.
Could it be possible? Lily shook.

“I don’t know! Oh, Roxie. I don’t

know. Maybe.” Tears of hope sprang to
her eyes. She pressed a hand to her
lower abdomen. What if it wasn’t a

tumor growing inside? What if it was a
baby? “How would I know?”

“Do you have one of those home

pregnancy kits?”

“I think I have a test left from my

pregnancy scare a while back.”

“Go do it, girl.”
“Okay. Do you want me to call you

back?”

“No, I’ll wait. Go pee.”
Lily turned off the blood, set the

phone on the counter, and raced to the
bathroom. She got a good idea of the
length of eternity while she waited for
the test results. When the blue positive
sign popped up, she screamed.

She ran to the kitchen, shrieking all

the way.

She could hear Roxie yelling. “Are

you okay? Answer me!”

Lily grabbed the phone. “I’m

pregnant! I’m going to have baby!” She
laughed as tears poured down her
cheeks.

After hanging up with Roxie, Lily

wanted to dance around the kitchen.
Instead, she pressed a protective hand to
her womb. Luc’s baby. She straightened
her shoulders, hope renewed. She had
two more names on her list. If those
failed to yield results, she’d extend her
search beyond L.A., hire a private
investigator, ask VA for help, track
down Madame Eve, and shake the
Frenchwoman until she surrendered
Luc’s surname. She would find Luc. She

closed her eyes and focused on the
image of blue eyes turning green. She
could almost smell his spicy scent now.

The doorbell rang. Her eyes flew

open and she jerked her head toward the
sound.

Nutmeg, cloves, cinnamon, and

anise, stronger now, touched her nose.
Tremors shook her body. Oh God, oh
please, oh God…she prayed as she
sprinted to her living room.

***

Luc took a fortifying breath and

rested his forehead against Lily’s door.
It had taken him two weeks to shore up
the courage to approach her and another

four to locate her. He’d contacted every
damn graphic arts business in the entire
frickin’ city of Los Angeles. He hadn’t
even been sure he’d found the right place
this time, until he’d reached her
apartment.

In her rush to leave, Lily had

forgotten her suitcase, but it yielded no
answers. Her freshly laundered clothes
bore little trace of her scent and no clues
as to where she lived. Why the hell
hadn’t she labeled her bag with her name
and address! And why had she brought
blood—vile, bagged stuff, no less—to a
sexual encounter where feeding would
occur? He’d taken one whiff of the flask
and thrown it away.

He was glad now he’d kept the

suitcase—it gave him an excuse to
contact her.

Spring rain, sweet flowers. Her

scent and the memory of her touch had
claimed his waking nights and hijacked
his dreams until he’d thought he’d go
mad. He had to convince her to overlook
his mixed race. If she got to know him
better, maybe she could come to accept
him. She’d liked him until she’d
discovered his nature.

Luc inhaled her scent and stiffened.

Lily’s fragrance had changed since their
mating. She radiated a growing joy like
a single blossom bursting into a full
bouquet. Had she met someone else?
Had Lily mated with another?

He would rip out the bastard’s throat

and stake him outside for the morning
sun to fry. Luc squeezed the handle of
her suitcase as pain and jealousy ripped
at his chest. The hard plastic shattered in
his hand, and the bag fell to the ground.

Dieu, he was making a mess of this.

Luc tucked the luggage under his arm, his
emotions under an icy façade, and
pressed her buzzer.

The door flew open.
Lily. Not a dream, not a memory, but

the real Lily stood there, her hair wild
and tangled as if she’d just arisen for the
evening, her eyes moons in her face,
which paled whiter than the cavorting
cartoon sheep on her pink pajamas. Her
beautiful face glowed. His spine
stiffened with such rigidity he would not

have been surprised if it snapped like a
twig. What if she sent him away? He’d
pinned everything on this moment. And
now that he’d found her, his tongue stuck
to the roof his mouth, and words refused
to form in his brain. How could he
convince her of anything when he
couldn’t even speak?

“I came to return your suitcase,” he

grated and thrust the bag out. “I broke it.
I’m sorry.”

Lily wrenched it out of his grasp,

tossed it aside, and flung herself at him,
laughing and sobbing. She peppered his
face with tear-salted kisses. “You came.
Oh, my God. I couldn’t find you.” She
clung to his neck in a stranglehold.

She’d looked for him? His façade

shattered. He grabbed her as the feeble
human in him went weak at the knees.
Who was he kidding? His vamp shook
like a leaf, buffeted on a rising current of
giddy hope. “Do you know how many
graphic design firms there are in L.A.? If
you were a female sumo wrestler, I
would have found you sooner.”

One of her kisses landed on his

mouth, and he used the advantage to
fasten his lips to hers. Relief, love, and
desire ballooned and demanded release.
He kissed her in a fierce and mutual
clash of lips, tongue, and fang. Spring
rain, flowers, and honey filled his nose,
his mouth, and seeped into skin, into his
blood. An elusive murmur teased his
nose, a scent too delicate and fragile to

identify, but the dream that had once
seemed so desperate, so unattainable
began to solidify under his hands and
mouth. He and Lily. Together. For
eternity.

The hallway where anyone could

come along was no place to begin that
future.

He tightened his arms around Lily

and inched into her apartment, continuing
to kiss her. Luc kicked at the door,
unbalanced, and stumbled over the
broken suitcase.

They fell.
He twisted and turned mid-air to

absorb the full brunt of the fall. His head
thumped against the carpeted floor, but
she landed protected on top of him.

“Are you okay?” Her worried gaze

met his eyes.

“The best I’ve been in my entire

life,” he said soberly.

“Your eyes, they’re turning green

again.” She stared. “That’s because
you’re a vamp, isn’t it?”

“Partly. Emotion causes them to

change color. But it only happens with
mated pairs.”

“Mine don’t do that.” She frowned

as if she’d been cheated out of something
special. “They’re plain brown.”

Luc stroked a finger over her lower

lip. He smiled and shook his head.
“You’re not plain anything, and they
change from dark brown to almost
yellow.”

She rounded her caramel eyes.

“They do?”

Luc nodded.
She blinked and her gaze darkened

with regret. “I’m sorry, Luc. I never
should have run out on you.”

“I should have told you what I am.”

He sucked in a breath of residual fear.
He held her in his arms now, but could
her love weather the scorn she would be
subjected to for consorting with the likes
of him?

Lily slid off him, and his heart

constricted, but she curled against his
side and tucked a leg between his. “No, I
was wrong. I didn’t tell you either. It
upset me that I had been turned without
my consent, so I overreacted to you

being a vampire.”

“Vampire?”

Luc

frowned

in

confusion. “That bothered you?”

“I’m okay now.” She pressed a kiss

to his mouth, flicked her tongue at his
protruding fang.

Luc shook his head, still not

comprehending. “My Half Breed nature
didn’t repulse you?” The word in his
mouth tasted worse than bagged blood.

“Half Breed?” She blinked and drew

back.

“Part human,” Luc bit out.
“Why would I care about that?” Lily

knit her eyebrows. “I was human once.”
She balled a fist and thumped his chest.
“That’s crazy.”

A wave of relief cascaded over him.

He cupped a hand behind her neck and
met her halfway with a searing kiss,
plundering her mouth to release longing
accrued over centuries. Her scent and
taste soothed the ragged tears in his soul.
Again, he detected that odd whisper of a
scent, a little stronger now. He sniffed.
Rain and flower and spice. Part Lily,
part him.

Mon dieu.
He broke off the kiss to stare at her

in awe.

Her amber eyes glowed happily. Her

lips, kissed to a deep rose, curved into a
smile. Her fangs glinted.

“You’re…pregnant?” He pressed a

shaking, gentle hand to her abdomen.
“We’re having a baby?”

She nodded. “I found out just before

you got here. I knew something had
changed, but I didn’t know what.”

“A baby!” He laughed, unable to

believe his fortune. He hugged her to his
chest and inhaled. He beamed. “A
daughter.”

She widened her eyes. “Are you

sure?”

He took another whiff. “Definitely.”
“I didn’t think vampires could get

pregnant,” she mused. “The VA didn’t
tell me anything about that.”

“They might not have known. Only in

very rare instances can human males
impregnate female vampires, and it
never occurs in the reverse. Many vamps
discount the possibility as myth. And not

much is known about the fertility of….”
He paused as he searched for another
word; he would not use that odious one
with his child involved. “Hybrids. We
tend to be loners to avoid detection.
Many vamps created by the bite of
another look down on those who are
born and remain part human. ”

Lily’s amber gaze stroked his face.

“I love you, Luc. I don’t care if you’re
vampire or human or any combination
thereof.”

“I love you. Je t'ai attendue toute

ma vie. I’ve waited for you all my life.”

~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

Cara

Bristol

writes

spicy

contemporary tales of love and lust that
are fun, sexy and stirring. A Scent of
Longing is her first paranormal romance
and her fifth published work. When
she’s not whipping up erotic stories,
Cara travels the world with her husband,
and though she hates to admit it, watches
reality TV shows. Oh, and she reads—
erotic romance, of course.

You can find Cara on her blog,

http://www.carabristol.com

,

on

Twitter,

http://twitter.com/#!/carabristol

,

or

on

Facebook,

www.facebook.com/Cara-Bristol-
Erotic-Romance-Author

Other Decadent Publishing 1Night

Stand Stories You May Enjoy

Dracula's Kiss by Jo Anne Kenrick

Cathela's Office Halloween Ball is a

complete bust. She spills out of her
Dracula's Bride costume, and her vamp
fetish chases away her boyfriend. Only
redeeming feature to the night? Necking
multiple shots of Dracula's Kiss—a lush
Black Cherry Vodka cocktail—and an
interlude with a gorgeous man dressed
Gary Oldman style.

No one comes close to satisfying

Alec Murray's needs until he meets
Cathela during some lame-ass party for
bankers. One taste of her blood, sweet
yet darkly dangerous, he knows she's
perfect for him.

A night of goth bondage is planned

for one. For the other, a night of sexual
control is a must. A perfect fit. Alec is
compelled to reveal his true nature but
can their relationship survive his dark
secret?

A Taste of Humanity by Shiela Stewart

One night of passion could be lethal!
Wanting some excitement in her life,

Penny Parker heads to Vegas. She’s
hoping the guy Madame Evangeline has
set her up with will give her more than a

thrill.

Cade O’Donnell is a virgin…of

sorts. Wanting something he’s never had
before, he signs up for the 1NightStand
service. Deciding to meet his match in
Vegas seems the right setting for his
tryst. What better place to have a fling
than in Sin City.

Thrills are abundant when Penny and

Cade get together. But will it be more
than she bargained for? Has Cade bitten
off more than he can chew?