Page 5

Chapter 3

She was clearly off-limits given the simple fact that the blonde was obviously Toni’s friend. But Torr could no sooner resist a beautiful woman than a vampire could survive without blood, and so he’d approached their table against his better judgment.

“Torr,” Alessandra greeted him coolly, not that he’d expected anything different. Torr didn’t attempt to hide the fact that he despised Kenton. Always had, always would. He was usually able to get along with the ladies fairly easily, but Alessandra had never warmed to him. Apparently, she took his dislike of Morley personally. No matter.

“Alessandra,” he replied. “Toni.”

He was about to walk around the table to meet their beautiful blonde friend when Alessandra caught his eye with a fierce look that reminded him, as she’d no doubt intended, that she was one of the few humans capable of slaying a vampire. Her meaning could not be clearer.

Stay away.

Which of course made him keen to do just the opposite.

“So what are we toasting to?” he repeated.

He moved toward Toni, who was at least incapable of killing him, deliberately avoiding the blonde woman’s gaze.

“Charlotte, actually,” Toni said, her smile pure and genuine.

“I see.”

He lifted his own glass then and let himself look at their blonde friend for the first time since he’d made his approach.

Bloody hell.

Dark brows framed huge hazel eyes in a perfect face shaped like a heart. Two pins pulled her long blonde hair away from her cheeks.

Prim and proper.

A perfect gentlewoman, just like the ladies he remembered from his human life in medieval Scotland.

Which meant she was even more off-limits.

“Hi,” she said softly.

It was the simplest of greetings, but Torr had no response.

He swallowed.

It felt like someone had taken a war hammer to his chest. And Torr would know what that felt like. He’d taken more than his share of blows with all manner of weapons throughout the years.

“To Charlotte then,” he finally managed.

The angel smiled, and the unusual sensation in his chest intensified. As each of them took a sip of their drinks, Torr was brought back to another time when women had less freedom than they did today. Coiffed, trussed with layers upon layers of material. He’d never cared for it and wasn’t sure why the memory popped into his mind.

“Charlotte, this is Torr. Lawrence’s younger brother.”

“His more handsome and refined younger brother,” he corrected.

Alessandra nearly spat out her wine.

“Careful, my dear,” he simpered. “You don’t want to choke.”

She looked as if she would love to choke him, however.

Torr had nothing against her, per se. But her fiancé was another matter.

“So, Torr,” Alessandra said, setting her glass on the table. “You never did tell us how long you plan to stay here in Stone Haven.” Every word had teeth, and before he could answer or even smirk at her, she continued. “But I don’t imagine it will be very long. After all”—she glanced around the bar—“it’s a quiet little town. And from what I’ve heard, ‘quiet’ isn’t really your thing.”