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She was ready to scream when Saintcrow reappeared.
Kadie stared at him, mute, but when he said nothing, she had to ask, “Did you . . . is he . . . ?”
“No.” He swore a pithy oath, then grabbed her arm and yanked her up close against him. “You owe me one, Kadie Andrews.”
She stared up at him. “What . . . what do you want?”
Desire blazed in his eyes. “I think you know.” One hand fisted in her hair. “That’s my price. Is his life worth it?”
“You said you wouldn’t force me.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are! This is blackmail of the worst kind!”
“Yes, or no?”
“How do I know you didn’t kill him?”
“Because I’m telling you that I didn’t. Do you believe me?”
She met his probing gaze without blinking or flinching and she knew, somehow she knew, he was telling her the truth. She blew out a sigh. Giving him what he wanted—what she wanted, if she was honest with herself—seemed a small price to pay for a man’s life.
“Very well, Saintcrow. The answer is yes. I’ll sleep with you. As long as it isn’t in a coffin.”
His laughter startled her. “You win, Kadie. It’s enough that you believe me. For now.”
“You don’t want me?”
“Always, but I want it to be your idea, not mine.”
“Then what was this all about?”
The heat faded from his eyes. “I’m not sure.”
Stunned, and unaccountably disappointed, she dropped down on the sofa. “Where’s Carl now?”
Saintcrow leaned against the hearth, his arms folded over his chest. “I let him go. As far as anyone else knows, he’s dead and buried.”
“You let him go?”
“It was either that or kill him. I trust you won’t tell anyone he’s still alive.”
“No, of course not. Can I ask you something?”
He nodded.
“I saw a graveyard. Are there people buried there? I mean, is it a real cemetery?”
“It’s real, and yes, there are people buried there. People who have died here,” he added, anticipating her next question. “Most from natural causes.”
“Most?”
“There have been casualties from time to time.”
She didn’t have to ask what kind of casualties. The town was filled with vampires, after all. “Have you ever seen any ghosts out there?”
“Don’t tell me you saw one?”
“No, but . . .” She felt a flush of embarrassment heat her cheeks. “I felt something . . . something cold and kind of clammy. It was creepy.”
He started to assure her that the dead couldn’t hurt her, then changed his mind. Most of the Undead were more dangerous than the living.
“Anything else you want to know?” he asked, though he had no idea why he was answering her questions. He had never done so for any of the others.
“Just one. I was wondering why there are so few men here. Human men, I mean.”
“Probably because men rarely get lost.”
“Yeah, right,” Kadie said. But she smiled in spite of herself. “Seriously, why?”
He shrugged. “Very few people find this place. Sometimes there are more men, sometimes more women. At the moment, the females outnumber the males. Women live longer. Men are more aggressive than women, less inclined to accept captivity, more likely to start fights they can’t win.”
She contemplated that for several minutes before asking, “Are you going to keep me here forever?”
“Perhaps.” His gaze moved over her, as warm and tangible as a caress. And then he took her hand in his and drew her to her feet and into his arms. “But I think not.”
Unbelievably, at that moment, with his arms holding her close and his dark eyes making love to her, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
She woke early the next morning, still thinking of Saintcrow, still wondering what it would be like to make love to a vampire.
Going downstairs, she came to an abrupt halt at the entrance to the living room. All the old furniture was gone, replaced by the Jonathan Adler furniture, the new end tables and lamps. Saintcrow had arranged it so the sofa faced the fireplace. The easy chair and one table were to the sofa’s left, the love seat and the other table to the right.
How had he gotten everything so quickly? she wondered, and then grinned. More vampire mojo.
There was a note on one of the end tables.
Kadie—
If you want to rearrange the furniture we can do it when I rise.
RS
The kitchen was also refurbished. She couldn’t help smiling when she noticed there were two new chairs though she had only ordered one. The new blender and microwave were in place, new silverware gleamed in the drawer.
After making a pot of coffee, she pulled a new Spode china cup from the shelf. She hadn’t seriously expected Saintcrow to buy all these things. She glanced at the cup in her hand. What if she broke it? It wouldn’t be like breaking one of her cheap ceramic mugs back home.
With a shake of her head, she poured herself a cup of coffee. If he wanted to keep her, then he could keep her in the manner to which she was seriously unaccustomed!
Cup in hand, she returned to her bedroom. She hadn’t paid much attention on waking, but now she noticed several packages on the dresser. No doubt she’d find her new sheets, towels, and bath soap inside. Not to mention a bottle of the world’s most expensive perfume.
Unable to resist, she opened the smallest package and spritzed herself with Clive Christian No. 1. It smelled divine. Feeling like a movie star, she returned to the kitchen, wondering if Saintcrow would hire her a maid and a cook if she asked him to.
Kadie was sitting on the new sofa, watching a movie on her new DVD player, when Saintcrow appeared. As usual, her foolish heart skipped a beat—partly from the suddenness of his arrival, but mostly because he was such an amazing-looking man.
He glanced around the room. “So, how do you like it?”
“How do you like it? You paid for it.”
He shrugged. “A sofa’s a sofa. A chair’s a chair. Do you need anything else?”
“Yes.” Sitting up, she leaned forward, her elbows braced on her knees. “I want to know about you.”
He lifted one brow. “What about me?”
“Gee, I wonder. Let’s see. You’re a nine-hundred-year-old vampire. Why don’t you start there?”
He dropped into the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “What do you want to know?”
