He went on acting cool and perfect, the detective so very much in charge. “With Willy Wyler, he figured he could wait it out—the guy’s got major drug problems and his wife’s too proud to work, so they were going down the tubes without any help from him. Even if Willy hadn’t sold to Donnie, it wouldn’t have been catastrophic, because his house is comparable in value to what Donnie would build. But an old trailer, no matter how refurbished, no matter how pretty its garden, would never do.

  “When those nasty pictures of Joanna showed up at the photo shop, he put the squeeze on Willy even more. Encouraged Willy to believe you took the pictures. Probably egged him on to mess with your place, too. He figured if you got hit with enough—dead cat, dead garden, vandalism, accusations of child abuse and even murder—you’d either get scared or you’d end up in jail and sell your place to him to raise money for a lawyer. He may not have planned to kill his cohort at the photo shop, but once he had, where better to dump the body than on you? And who was ready with plenty of ill-gotten cash to rescue you? He was, of course.”

  “He thinks if he gets rich he’ll have a chance with Vi,” Ophelia mused. “Men are such fools.” Including you. And if you aren’t, it’s even worse. She stood up to get away from his suspicions and his hormone bouquet. “I have to go home.”

  “Wait,” Gideon said, standing as well, way too close.

  Ophelia closed her eyes to block out his delectable aroma, which didn’t help at all.

  “Don’t go,” Gideon said, in that slow, lazy voice that had drawn her in from day one.

  She headed for the door. “We’ve pretty much talked this out. Try the Taylor Road dump first. Donnie has a key to the back gate, so he can get in and out easily. He took me there once to dump a whole truckload of trash because I was too broke to pay the fees. The bastard,” she added under her breath. “He’s always been so helpful, and none of it was real. I can’t believe I actually liked him, sort of.”

  “Taylor Road it is,” Gideon said. “First thing in the morning. In the meantime, sweetheart, please stay.”

  “Why? I already said we’re not having sex tonight.” She picked up her gloves and tools.

  “I don’t want to have sex tonight,” Gideon said, and then stopped. “No, of course I do, but not if you don’t. Sex or no sex, I want you here with me. Is that so strange?”

  Ophelia rolled her eyes at him, one hand on the door handle. “I get it. You think I’m in danger if I go back home. Well, now that I know who I’m watching for, I’ll do just fine.”

  “Sure you will, but why should I be alone here and you be alone there? Why not sleep in the same bed?” She said nothing, and Gideon threw up his hands. “I don’t get it. I thought you liked me. Turns out I’m just another sex toy. A bimbo. Pretty damn ironic, wouldn’t you say?”

  Ophelia stared at him, swaying with surprise. “What?” she asked faintly.

  “What else am I supposed to think? You don’t want to talk to me, you’re always trying to get away, and the only thing about me you’ve shown interest in is my dick. I suppose I should be flattered that a vamp wants me for her boy toy, but the fact remains, I want more.”

  Ophelia put the gardening tools down before she dropped them. “What do you want?”

  “If I tell you, you’ll freak out and leave.”

  Ophelia made an incredulous face. “You’re into kink?” She leaned against the blessed firmness of the door. “I don’t believe it.”

  “The only kink I’m into is you, and I’d rather not talk about sex in any form if you’re not in the mood, because even when I’m pissed off at you, I want you to throw me on the rug and fuck me senseless.” He made a disgusted noise. “Probably even more when I’m pissed off. I’m turning into a love slave. Me!”

  Ophelia laughed and bit her lip so she wouldn’t lick it. “Then what do you want from me?”

  His eyes burned into her, and she squirmed under both the scrutiny and her mounting desire for him. Damn. “Promise you won’t leave?” Gideon said.

  Her heart thumped against her chest, hard and then harder. She sucked in a breath. “I’ll hear you out before I decide whether to leave.”

  “All right,” he said, looking strained and determined and adorable. “I want you to move in with me. I want you to sleep with me every night.” He stopped, his eyes scouring her again, and took a deep breath and went on. “I want you to sit beside me and talk to me and live with me. And marry me and have kids with me.” He paused. “And while you’re at it, fix my goddamned garden, if you like.”

  Ophelia said nothing, mostly because she couldn’t. Again, she closed her eyes.

  “See, I knew it,” Gideon said. “It’s too soon, just like Lep warned me. You think I’m just another crazy guy under your spell. If you give me a chance, sweetheart, some time to prove it, you’ll see that I’m a lot more than that.”

  Ophelia came slowly back across the room and sank onto the couch.

  The weeping garden. That tangled, twisted garden, all hers.

  The man just asked you marry him, and all you can think about is a bunch of plants?

  “We hardly know each other,” she said stupidly.

  “That makes it even more fun.” Gideon sat next to her and took her hand, pressing kisses on her palm. “Honey, you don’t have to answer me now. Just think about it.”

  “I’m so confused.” Helplessly, because she wanted to and because there was nothing else, she leaned across and kissed him. The kiss deepened and grew, and then she was on the couch under him, her arms twined around his neck, his hands insistent under her shirt, his lips pressing hot kisses down her throat.

  “I love you,” he said roughly. “That’s all there is to it. And I’d better go take a cold shower right now if we’re not having sex tonight.” He raised himself on one elbow. “Why, again, aren’t we having sex? Don’t tell me you don’t want to. I won’t believe it.”

  “It’s nothing to do with not wanting,” Ophelia began, but by then his hand was under her skirt and hard on her thigh. “Ow!” She recoiled. Damn.

  “What the hell?” Gideon sat up. It took him half a second at the most. “You had the gun hidden under your skirt, on a strap or something, right? You wore a crinoline to bulk it out so I wouldn’t be able to tell.” He stood and paced across the room. “Jesus.”

  Ophelia shrugged it off. “I was in a hurry, and I’d run out of duct tape.”

  “Your walk was awkward, but I attributed it to the heels. You really were afraid of me.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Damn.”

  “It’s only a couple of bruises.”

  “Take your skirt off,” Gideon said.

  Five minutes later, flat on Gideon’s bed and naked from the waist down, Ophelia wallowed in love and guilt. He had taken her explanation with admirable calm.

  “This won’t do.” He eased a splinter out of her thigh and dabbed the tiny tear with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball.

  “Ow! Skip the alcohol next time.” She poked out her tongue. “My spit works better.”

  “My, my,” Gideon said. “What an unusually flexible woman you must be. No wonder that vibrator doesn’t impress you.”

  Ophelia chuckled. She sucked his middle finger into her mouth and pushed it out again. “What won’t do?”

  He wiped her saliva across the cut and got back to work with the tweezers. “You can’t marry me if you don’t trust me.”

  “I haven’t said I’ll marry you.” She watched his dark head bent over her thigh and longed for innocence. His warm breath tickled her pubic hair. Well, not that kind of innocence.

  “But you want my garden,” Gideon said, “and marrying me is the only way you’ll get it.” He tugged on the second splinter.

  “There are other gardens,” Ophelia said, horrified at how easily he had read her, hoping she sounded indifferent.

  “But you want mine,” Gideon said with a panting little laugh. He leaned closer and licked her. “And I want yours.” He sucked gently. “But not if you don’t trust me.”

  Ophelia put her hands behind her head and wriggled languorously. She ran her tongue over her fangs. “Trust doesn’t happen overnight.”

  Gideon withdrew and picked up the tweezers again. “What I don’t understand is, why shouldn’t you trust me? I haven’t given you any reason not to feel safe with me. Even Lep and Constantine are on my side.”

  She sure wasn’t about to explain, so she tried for cool and supercilious again. “I’m supposed to fall in love with you because they approve?”

  “No, but you might consider trusting me because they do.” Gideon eased out another splinter. “Whatever happened to you in the past,” he said, flicking the splinter across the sheets, “is over.”

  Ophelia stiffened, and fought to let the tension go. No use.

  “Whoever fucked with you,” he said, “is history.”

  Ophelia winced.

  “In the interest of moving forward…” His eyes were fixed on her thigh. “You need to get rid of him. Give me some spit.” He spread Ophelia’s saliva over the tiny wounds. “He’s fucking up your future. Dig him up or bury him, do whatever you have to, and then go forward with me.”

  Ophelia tried to lie still—Control it, control yourself—but her body and spirit curled away from him. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she whispered. Please.

  “We don’t have to talk at all.” He disappeared into the bathroom with the alcohol, cotton balls, and tweezers. Above the skylight, stars winked through quivering oak leaves. Gideon returned and stripped off his clothes.

  Oh, good, thought Ophelia, watching him with mingled relief and desire. This I can handle. She eyed his erection and licked her fangs.

  Gideon brushed featherlight fingers past the bruises on both her thighs. “Is this why you didn’t want to have sex, or was it just the embarrassment factor?” Without waiting for an answer, he slithered onto his belly and tongued her clit again. “You like this a lot,” he said after a minute.

  How could I not? She realized with astonishment that she was whimpering. This adorable man was good. Incredibly, achingly good.

  “And you get hot faster than any woman I’ve ever been with—”

  Get on with it then, will you?

  “And you come easily—”

  Not if you’re talking the whole damn time!

  “And yet, you’re not really relaxed.” He pulled away and grinned at her. “I have an idea.”

  Ophelia gaped at him, throbbing in the cool air that had taken his place. “I don’t believe this. You’re a tease.”

  “Don’t you just love it,” Gideon said. “Fusion, that’s the answer.”

  Five torturous minutes later, lying almost motionless under Gideon, his penis hard but quiet inside her, Ophelia was still fighting his ridiculous fusion idea. And him.

  “It feels good,” Gideon laughed. “You need to relax some more.”

  She squirmed. “Is it cheating to clench my vaginal muscles?”

  “The point, my sweet one,” Gideon explained as he kissed her, “is to sense everything. To notice every point of contact.” He shifted his weight and trickled a toe along her foot. “Our toes tantalizing, our thighs pressed together. Our bellies pooled in pleasure. Your sumptuous breasts against my…uh, manly chest. Spread your arms.” He laid his arms along hers and twined their fingers. “A thousand sizzling erogenous zones, feeding, spreading, firing together.”

  Ophelia groaned and thrust her pelvis against his.

  “Patience.” Gideon touched his tongue to hers and flickered over her fangs. “Relax and savor it.”

  “Why the hell can’t you just fuck me?” Ophelia cried. “Forget the stupid bruises. I want to get jammed!”

  “Some other time,” Gideon said. “To night it’s slow and easy.”

  “This is so slow it’s almost dead,” Ophelia growled, panting and heaving, but although she was strong, he was stronger. “Stop the sex guru thing and act like a normal guy. How many other women have you put through this torment?”

  “None,” Gideon said. “I read about it in some book, but I never wanted to merge with anyone until you came along.”

  A tiny, happy spark flared into life in Ophelia’s belly. He really does love me. “It’s a terrible idea.”

  Gideon touched his lips to hers and whispered hot and softly into her mouth. “Relax into me. Envelop me. Fuse with me, love.”

  “This is insane,” Ophelia moaned. Gideon’s mouth came down hard in a demanding kiss with some blessed movement in it—oh God, thank God—and eagerly she kissed him back, pouring all the passion she didn’t dare feel into that kiss, sucking him into her, sucking her into him.

  “Oh,” she said, whelmed in astonishment and delight, as the flare in her belly welled into exquisite light. You really do love me. She tightened her fingers against his and every muscle seared down her outstretched arms, down her arched back, down the quivering length of her legs. And I love you. He shifted his hips a thousandth of an inch and glory unimagined shot through Ophelia. Finally. She clenched her vagina around him, let go, and clenched again.

  “Calm down,” Gideon said. “We haven’t fused properly yet.”

  “I can fix that,” Ophelia snarled. She sank her fangs into his shoulder.

  Gideon rocked hard against her, gasping and laughing. “Took you long enough.”

  Ophelia tried to retort, but the blood was too good and the fuck was too smooth. She closed her eyes and let the moving fusion be, one two three slick golden strokes. She withdrew her fangs, quivering with the effort. “Wait.”

  Gideon laughed, spilling pleasure through her with a slow relentless grind. “I thought you wanted to hurry up.” His hot breath melted into a groan. He gripped her ass and rolled them over together, gazing up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, the breath hissing through his teeth. “Bite me again, Ophelia.”

  His hands traveled possessively across her ass and she writhed against them, writhed against the golden pressure of his penis filling her. “I can’t talk with my fangs inside you.” She touched her tongue to his and licked his mouth, licked her lips. She giggled. I never giggle. What the hell has gotten into me? “We need to talk.”

  Gideon ran his fingers up the crack of her butt, spreading their slick juices. “Talk later.”

  “But this is important,” Ophelia mocked. She squeezed down onto him, buried her face in his aroma, caressed his neck with her fangs, traced his earlobe with her tongue. She drew slowly away until only the tip of him played at her opening. “Sex can wait.”

  Gideon slid a hand in between them and went straight for her clit. Ophelia shuddered out an ecstatic moan.

  “You had something to say?” Gideon laughed.

  Ophelia writhed speechlessly against his fingers.

  “Or you could just shut up and fuck me,” he said. “I never did go for too much talk.”

  Ophelia squirmed away from his devastating touch. “So that’s how you did it.”

  Gideon splayed the hand across her hip and grinned up at her. “Did what?”

  She slid off him and folded her arms. “Kept your bimbos from talking too much. You fingered them speechless.”

  “Shit.” Gideon propped his head on his hand and frowned at her. “I’m a jerk, right?”

  “You’re a darling.” Ophelia slithered up against him and kissed him. “You gave them the best time they ever had.” She slung a leg across his hip. “But it has me really, really worried.” She laughed, drunk with love. Insane.

  Gideon rolled on top of her. “Uh-huh.” He plunged his tongue into her mouth and scraped it on a fang. Ophelia moaned and bucked under him. His eyes burned dark and devilish into hers. “You sure do look worried.” He chuckled and kneed her legs apart.

  “Wait,” Ophelia said, panting and gasping, drenched in euphoria and sex. “I’m not like your mother and sister, and I’m not a bimbo either. Usually, I don’t talk all that much.”

  He nuzzled down her neck, paused at her armpit, trailed his tongue across her breast. “Could have fooled me.” He laved the nipple and sucked gently.

  She rubbed herself against his knee and moaned again as he traveled to the other breast. “I have to get more than the bimbos, not less. If I don’t talk, will you never finger me speechless again?” Her laugher dissolved into a wavering cry as he drove deep inside her.

  “The garden”—he panted, thrusting into her again—“and the finger, for you only, forever, when you marry me.”

  “All right,” she whispered, arching hard against him, accepting him to her very core. “I’m scared out of my mind, but…” I love you. “I don’t have any choice.”

  “Excellent.” Gideon’s voice broke harsh and breathless in her ear. He surged into her, golden sweet and demanding. “Now what about my perks?”

  Ophelia settled her fangs against the sweet spot where his neck joined his shoulder. “Fuse with me, love,” she said.

  In the still gray light of dawn, Zelda braked her bike in front of Ophelia’s porch and tried not to grimace at its occupant. After all, Joanna was half the reason she had come. “What are you doing here? Where’s Ophelia?” She glanced at the house. “The kitchen light’s on, but there’s no truck in the drive.”

  Joanna Wyler stood slowly. Her face was puffy, and her eyes were red.

  Wimp, thought Zelda, and immediately felt a pang of remorse—or maybe it was just the toothache that had kept her up most of the night.

  “I don’t know,” Joanna said belligerently. “She didn’t answer the door, so I guess she’s not here.” She stuck out her chin and clamped her lips together.

  Zelda had to give the girl points for effort. She tried to sound a mite less judgmental. Embrace the vamp destiny, Violet had drummed into her head over the years. If that included mentoring wimps, so be it. “Then why are you sitting on her porch?”