Which was good, because he wanted her.

Baojia sat on the end of the couch where she had laid her head and picked up a curl of her hair, twisting it around one finger. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Cirilda doesn’t speak English. I’m fairly sure she understands it, but she doesn’t speak it, so when I finally woke up—I have no idea what time it is, by the way—I tried having a conversation with her, but she just smiled and nodded and fed me soup. It was really good soup, I’ll give you that. Did you take my phone?”

He hummed, still twisting that curl around his finger. Her phone was history. He’d buy her another.

“Oh, and Tulio does have a library. A huge one, in fact. But the only books in English are some mining manuals and a travel guide to Barstow. Who the hell wrote a travel guide to Barstow?”

She was amusing. And she smelled wonderful. He was hungry. He hadn’t fed for days and he knew he was dancing on the fine edge of control, but he didn’t want to stay away from her. He dropped the curl he’d been playing with and picked up another, just as unruly. She was still rambling, but her pulse sped every time his fingers came close to her skin, so he knew his presence was affecting her. He smiled to himself when her nervous k hetimrambling continued. He could smell the flush on her skin.

“Are we leaving soon? If you’re awake, then it must be nighttime, right? I’m so completely turned around. You took my phone, didn’t you? Dammit, George, I had stuff on that phone. Are the pictures even retrievable at this point or did your vampire magic fry it?”

“Natalie,” he whispered.

“What?” she asked in an irritated voice. “You took my phone, didn’t you? That was my phone, Baojia. Not yours. Have some respect for—”

He put his hand over her mouth and took a deep breath. “Better.”

She shoved it away and sat up, her color high and her mouth open in shock. “Do not cover my mouth like I’m a child! That’s just—”

Baojia slid a hand to the nape of her neck, tugged her forward, and covered her mouth with his own. Her lips molded to his on instinct. She was delicious. Far better than his memory of the first night they’d met. She tasted of chiles and cumin and wine. Her body was stiff with shock and he took full advantage, sliding his other arm from the back of the couch up the curve of her spine to send her tumbling off-balance and into his chest.

“Much better,” he said, pulling away for a second. Natalie’s mouth opened in protest and he tugged her full lips back to his, biting lightly on the lower one until she opened her mouth, then he slid his tongue inside, teasing along hers until she was panting. She straddled his legs on the couch, her hands trailing up his biceps to grip his shoulders as her nails dug into his skin. The tiny bites of pain triggered a primitive thrill. He could feel the heat where he held her at the small of her back and his fingers slid into her riotous hair, twisting and tangling those red waves until her heart was pounding. He could feel it against his chest.

Alive. She was so alive and Baojia felt as if he’d been cold for so long. He could hear his own silent heart thump once against hers. He wanted her. Needed her.

Needed her?

The low growl built in his throat, and his fangs fell down, nicking the edge of her lip.

“Ow!” She gasped and pulled away, her mouth red and swollen. His eyes narrowed on the tiny trickle at the corner of her mouth.

“Let me…” He pierced his tongue and licked up, sampling the heady flavor of her blood and the salt on her skin as he healed the tiny cut. He wanted more. “Natalie—”

“Stop,” she whispered, placing a hand on his chest. “Are you going to bite me?”

He stilled immediately. “Do you want me to?”

“I… I don’t…” Her eyes were round and uncertain. “I don’t know.”

He groaned and pulled her close, leaning his forehead against hers as he tried to gather his control. She was frightened. This wasn’t the way it should be.

“One day,” he said in a low voice, “I want you to crave my bite.”

She blushed again; he stopped breathing. Her scent was too tempting.

“Does… I mean, doesn’t it hurt?”

As if on cue, a low satisfied moan of female pleasure echoed down the hall from Tulio’s chamber. Baojia looked at Natalie, who had turned toward the noise, her mouth falling open a little.

“No,” he said. “It doesn’t.”

“Oh. I didn’t think…” She backed away, untangling from his arms, distancing herself. “I mean, she’s so much older than him.”

Baojia cocked kaojeded herhis head in confusion until he remembered that Cirilda was probably in her fifties. “He is far older than her, Natalie.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “Of course. I just… She looks older, so it’s kind of confusing.”

Humans were often strange about age. They put so much stock in appearance. “Remember to not judge their relationship by human standards. They have been together many years. I know he’s very fond of her. I doubt her age troubles him except as a reminder that their time is limited.”

He saw her look thoughtfully down the hall as the sounds of carnal pleasure turned to more intimate, muffled conversation. He heard a low laugh from Tulio, then another quick exchange between the vampire and his lover.

“He wouldn’t make her a vampire?” she asked quietly.