Not only that, he’s the most extravagant lover I’ve ever had. He’s curious and exploring and dominant and surprisingly kinky. He puts me in control while at the same time taking control away, but I’m never afraid or intimidated.

  Is it possible to fall in love so fast? I don’t know. I’ve always approached relationships slowly, deliberately. The uncertainty of my life caused me to take a chance with him that first night. I believed I didn’t have the luxury of time, but what started as a final, heavenly indulgence has grown into something much more. Still, even now I can’t allow myself to be caught up in dreams of a future with him.

  Glancing at the clock, I see it’s time to go. Taking a moment, I smooth deep red lipstick over my lips. It’s a classic color that matches my complexion, but I don’t want to see blood on my lips. I grab a tissue and roughly wipe the color away. Instead I opt for a fleshy pink, which compliments my smoky eye makeup. I don’t want to be a vamp tonight. I want to be myself.

  Riding in the elevator, I only briefly realize Derek still doesn’t know my room number or my last name. It’s incredible in view of all the things he does know about me. Tonight is the night we’ll remove every safety net. Throw caution to the wind.

  The doors open, and as promised, he’s waiting for me in the lobby. My breath catches. He’s gorgeous in charcoal slacks, a thin black sweater, and a light blazer. His dark, wavy hair is smoothed back from his face, and when he turns, his sexy grin clenches my chest.

  “You’re beautiful,” he says in that low voice.

  “You’re amazing,” I say in response.

  My former reticence is gone. I don’t feel the need to be guarded with him. Whether it’s because of my fatalistic outlook on life or how fast we’ve moved. Maybe it’s a testament to his ability to put me at ease. All I know is when we’re together, I’m not afraid or shy. Quite the opposite.

  “Patrick said you were sick of him by the end of the afternoon.” A grin lifts the corners of his mouth.

  Standing here, looking like a model, teasing me about the most devastating time of my life, I can’t resist. I clutch his forearm and rise on my toes to kiss his cheek.

  “I guess we have to do another exchange.” I say the words in a pointed way, and it has the desired effect. His expression darkens.

  “Dinner first. We have things to discuss.”

  “Also, I’m hungry,” I wink. I’m so grateful to have one safe harbor in the middle of this storm.

  He’s a hunter. If I’m safe anywhere, I’m safe with him. It’s the justification I give for the inexplicable way I feel when we’re together. I’m easy. I’m happy. He promised me last night he’d save me, and for whatever reason, my heart has decided to believe him. My body craves him, and when I take his arm, all my fear dissolves.

  “Are you up for walking a few blocks to Bayona?”

  “I’d love that!”

  The upscale slow-food restaurant situated in a two hundred year-old French Quarter cottage is a luxury I’ve only had once. After my day of tense wandering through the market trying not to worry about him, it seems like the perfect setting to relax and get to know each other better.

  The rain never came, and as we walk up Royal Street, I imagine us as a carefree couple strolling to dinner on a warm fall night. Only the tiniest flicker of anxiety manages to penetrate my mood. I look over my shoulder a few times, wondering if he might be there watching me. A touch of dread chills my insides at the thought of his cold blue eyes, but all I see are tourists looking in windows or running into bars.

  His voice has been silent since this afternoon in the market. I don’t know if I somehow got closer to him or if Derek’s presence gives me the strength to block it out. Again, I’m handicapped by my ignorance of what’s happening to me and how fast the changes are taking place. Did my dose of shifter blood truly reset the clock or am I’m right back to where I was before I drank it?

  “What are you thinking about so seriously?” Derek glances down, giving me that little smile that launches a thousand butterflies in my stomach.

  My feelings for him haven’t distracted me from the fact I know so little about him, about his work. “Can you tell me what you did today?”

  “Probably not. Let’s just say it was informative.”

  We walk down the side streets, away from the main tourist lanes, and I feel closer to him, like we can share more intimately here.

  “I worried about you today. I was afraid you might try to take matters into your own hands and be hurt.”

  His smile tightens. “As much as I’d like to do that, my partners won’t let me. We’ll have it all planned out before we do anything.”

  Taking a deep breath, I look up at the twilight sky. “I was thinking today how little we know about each other.”

  “Me too,” he says.

  We’re at the corner of Royal and Conti Streets. Two blocks north, and we’ll be at our destination. Before we resume our walk, however, he puts both hands on my waist, holding me steady in front of him.

  “What would you like to know?” His steely eyes are utterly sincere, and I feel myself fall for him a little more.

  “Everything?” A breathy laugh escapes with the word, and I’m embarrassed that I sound like a swoony teenager. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Right here in this city.” He nods toward the streetlamps, taking my hand as we resume our walk. My heels make a soft clicking noise on the flagstones.

  “Really? Here in the Quarter?”

  “My parents have a place further west, by Audubon Park. Near Tulane and Loyola.”

  “It sounds beautiful. Did you go to college there?”

  “When I graduated high school, I joined the military. I’d just started my degree when the first Gulf war broke out. I was sent overseas.”

  The image of him in uniform fighting bad guys is an incredible turn-on. “Did you serve for long?”

  “I was back and forth,” he says as we approach the small cottage.

  A line of white French doors punctuates the terracotta-orange façade of the one-story building. We pass through a green wrought-iron gate into an alley entrance, and a young woman dressed all in black finds our reservation.

  “Right this way, Mr. Alexander.” She picks up two large menus and leads us through the small dining area filled with white-covered tables.

  Recessed lighting casts the entire room in an amber glow, and large bouquets of red-orange lilies overflow from metal urns.

  Derek touches my arm. “Would you like to sit outside?”

  The small dining room feels too close for what we might discuss, so I nod. The young woman leads us into a brick-lined courtyard and seats us at a black iron table and chairs. Vibrant green palms fill the flowerbeds and ivy climbs the walls. Crepe myrtle trees stretch tall overhead and star-shaped lanterns hang from their smooth, thick trunks. A red amaryllis springs from a planter attached above a fountain, and the sound of water provides a soothing backdrop.

  Once we’re seated, Derek orders two glasses of cava. I can’t help smiling, thinking of that very first night we met. It seems so long ago. The young woman leaves, and Derek stretches a hand across the table to me. I put mine in his, studying the contrast of my pale skin to his rich olive complexion.

  “Hidden in this courtyard, I can almost forget the terrible things ahead of us.” I say, watching his fingers close around mine.

  “I’m glad to hear it. At first I couldn’t accept what had happened to you. Now I only want to set you free.”

  Our eyes meet, and I have to blink away the mist. “Why?” I have to know. It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t ask.

  “Why?” He lets out a chuckle at my question.

  “Yes,” I’m earnest. “Why of all the options in that bar that night. Why me?”

  “Why you,” he repeats as if it’s an academic problem, but I can tell from the gleam in his eyes he’s ready to play. “I guess I love long dark curls and blue eyes.”

  His mood makes me want to tease back, but the server appears with a dark green bottle and two flutes. The cork releases with a loud Pop! and she pours us each a glass of sparkling wine.

  Before she leaves, we order from the End of Summer menu. Eggplant caviar and tapenade for me followed by wild Alaskan salmon with Gewurztraminer sauce. Derek chooses a smoked quail salad followed by peppered lamb loin with goat cheese and Zinfandel sauce. French Burgundy will accompany our meal and the waitress disappears, giving us a chance to resume our conversation.

  We’re quiet a moment, and my mind drifts back to all the questions I want to ask him. He lifts his flute and holds it toward mine.

  “To the little things,” he says.

  Clinking my glass against his, I smile. “Especially when everything else is so overwhelming.”

  He takes a quick sip before putting the glass down again and taking my hand. “Tonight it’s just us. Tomorrow, we’ll worry about finishing this business.”

  The level of confidence in his voice is enough to convince me. Our salads arrive, and I pick up my fork to sample the salty caviar mixed with eggplant.

  “Your turn,” he smiles. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Near the beach in Wilmington.” Using the butter knife, I spread the dark brown tapenade on a slice of French bread. “Elaine and I grew up together playing in the water, building sand castles.”

  “Has she always read minds?” He waits as I take a bite of the savory blend of olives and capers. Nodding, I clear it away. “She thought I was telling her things. I thought she was going crazy.”

  That makes him smile as he spears a bit of quail with pears. “How did you figure out what was happening?”

  “I finally faced her while she was answering a question, and she realized my lips weren’t moving.”

  “Hmm,” he nods. “She did that to me earlier. It’s unnerving.”

  “Yes,” I agree with a little laugh.

  Remembering that day so long ago still makes me smile. We were two pre-teen girls running and playing in the sand. We hadn’t started caring about boys yet, and our days were spent exploring the dunes and climbing the rocks, watching the breakers hit them with such force the white surf shot in the air like a geyser.

  “We spent the rest of that summer testing her abilities,” I continue. “We had no idea what was coming.”

  Two servers appear with our dinner entrees and the wine. We wait as they take care of our needs, and when they leave, I’m feeling less nostalgic.

  “As we got older, she hated her gift. She would ask if she could return it. Or re-gift it.”

  He exhales a little laugh. “So no gifts for you?”

  Shaking my head, I dive into the rich salmon. It’s perfectly cooked—slightly pink in the middle with a crispy, buttery crust. I let out a little moan it’s so good, and Derek sips his wine, watching me with an expression that flutters my core.

  “I’m wondering why we ordered so much food.” His voice is low and sensual.

  I lean forward, my nose wrinkling. “I’m wondering the same thing.”

  “We can get this to go and have dinner in bed.”

  Breathing a little quicker, I lower my fork. “Although I want to know more about you.”

  “We’ve got all night to talk.”

  Now that he says it, I realize I’m not feeling at all tired. Seems I’m back to nocturnal urges.

  “Did you know there’s a pool on the roof of my hotel?”

  “I’ve heard about it.” He signals to the waiter, who returns to fetch us boxes and the bill.

  “You don’t have a swimsuit,” I pretend to pout, and he leans forward.

  “I’ll buy trunks in the hotel gift shop. But I hope we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

  “I suppose we have to get back to find out.”

  * * *

  Derek

  Our walk to the hotel seems to take forever and not long enough. The dress Melissa wears allows me to slide my hand down her gorgeous back, and I’m rewarded with a slight shiver as she melts into my side.

  “Tell me about your work,” I say, pressing my lips to the delicate skin at her temple. “When did you start your own business?”

  Her arms are around my waist, and I’m torn between wanting to hurry us back to the room and wanting to prolong our journey. I love having her near me. I love leaning down and inhaling deeply of ocean roses. I love the sound of her voice. It helps me forget about the demons I hunt or the one who’s trying to destroy her life. The one who’s out there now, waiting for us to find him.

  “When I finished college, I started my marketing business.” She’s thoughtful and serious about her work, and I can tell she’s good at her job. “At first, it was local, mostly college-based, working with professors and community programs. Then it expanded. I met different people…”

  Her voice trails off, and I’m pretty sure I know why. “Is that how you met him?”

  Her dark head nods against my shoulder, and my arm tightens around her.

  “He was a big client, a big fish.” Her voice is soft, sad again. “The irony is I thought it would advance my career. I’m pretty sure he ended it.”

  Again I’m hit with a surge of protective anger. I imagine her beautiful and happy, starting a business and hoping for the best. Doing her homework and trying to land the best clients—only to have it all cut short by a depraved monster.

  “You’ll have all the things you wanted.” It’s a promise I’m determined to keep.

  We’re back at the hotel, and I motion for her to wait as I quickly step into the gift shop and purchase a basic pair of navy swim trunks. I’m headed for the register when my eyes fall on a display of gold jewelry.

  Pins in the shape of hummingbirds with mother of pearl inlays are arranged next to large watches. A wide, golden cuff sits next to a large pair of hoop earrings. It’s flashy, but my eye is caught by one small necklace. In a pale pink box, a thin gold chain holds a delicate floating heart. Without hesitation, I pick it up.

  She’s looking through the glass windows at the elaborate carousel bar when I return. A round bar is painted in shining gold, the top arched and lit up with carnival lights exactly like a carousel. Faces are carved in panels at the top, and staring at it, it truly looks as if it should spin.

  The bar stools are brightly colored with lions or horses or elephants painted on the seat backs. It’s quite a spectacle. When I reach her, I can’t resist sliding my palm down her lovely back once more. I imagine sitting in a chair and drawing her onto my lap, taking her under those bright lights.

  “I love this dress,” I say softly.

  Her shoulder rises as she looks up at me. A sexy grin is on her lips. “I hoped you would.”

  “I can’t seem to stop touching you.”

  Another shiver runs through her and her voice is thick when she speaks. “We left our food at the restaurant.”

  I realize she’s right and almost laugh. We packed it all up, and we were so distracted by each other, we walked right out and left it on the table.

  “You’re right.” I say. “I only got a few bites.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Not for food.” Her cheeks flush, and I glance at the glowing display of the bar. “Do you want a drink?”

  “I’d rather go to the roof.”

  Her tone tells me she shares my hunger. Taking her hand, I lead her to the elevator. “We can change in one of the cabanas.”

  “Or not,” she whispers, and damn if I don’t have to adjust my fly.

  The elevator ride only increases the tension. We share the trip up with individuals getting on and off, but once we’re at the roof, a quick glance around the shimmering blue pool tells us we’re alone.

  I lead her into one of the white-curtained cabanas and quickly lower the straps of her dress. She’s not wearing a bra, and her dark nipples are peaked and straining for my touch. I don’t make her wait.

  “Oh!” she gasps as I cup one roughly before leaning down to pull a taut bud into my mouth. I give it a quick pull and a gentle bite. I want to devour them both.

  She gasps and a little noise comes from her throat. It taunts my impatience. Her dress is off in a sweep, and I lift her onto the bed, pushing her thighs apart so I can taste her. She slides back, moaning and clutching her breasts as I grip her hips in my arms, sliding my tongue up, down, deep into her clenching pussy.

  A brief suck, a little dip, and her cries make it harder for me to wait. Standing, I discard my coat and lose my sweater. Reaching up, I draw the beige curtains around us. It’s a visual buffer, but if someone wanders up here, it will be impossible to hide what we’re doing.

  My slacks are gone, and I kneel on the bed, wrapping Melissa’s legs around my waist. Her beautiful body glows silvery-white in the moonlight, and it only takes a moment to get myself in position and thrust deep into her slippery core.

  “God,” I say through clenched teeth. The sensation of being inside her warm, wet body is almost too much. “So tight,” I groan.

  Her back arches as I thrust deeper. One hand fumbles between her legs, and I watch as her slim fingers circle frantically over her clit. Her mouth begins to change. The sight of her teeth growing, knowing it’s because she’s about to come burns my desire hotter in my stomach.

  I thrust harder, gripping the soft flesh of her ass and grinding her against my pelvis. She exhales little cries, and her small breasts bounce as I sit back on my heels moving faster. Her hand flies over that sensitive place, and she starts to clench around my dick, pulling and milking me.

  “Oh, yeah,” I groan low, rising up on my knees so I can push deeper into her.

  My eyes squeeze shut, and her hips begin to jerk. I know she’s coming, and I grip her tighter, moving with her orgasm. Our skin slaps loudly until she breaks into a full-body shudder.

  “Oh, god! Derek!” she cries, and it sends me over the edge.

  My ass tightens as the world tilts, and a low groan scrapes through my lungs. I’m shooting through space, and my only anchor is this beautiful woman calling my name.

  For a moment, I hold on, eyes closed, pulsing with pleasure. Then I notice she’s moving—slowly climbing my torso with me still inside. Her breath comes in little pants, and she presses her open mouth against my flesh, touching my skin with her tongue, licking the sweat from my muscles in the heat of the New Orleans night.