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“It’s a first,” I conceded. “And I can admit, for a long time, I thought all my firsts were behind me.”
“Ah, a man of experience.” She cracked a huge yawn.
“You should get some sleep.”
“Then another day of my three months will be gone.” Her grip tightened on the paperback in her lap, and her scent changed subtly.
Fear. She was scared to sleep. And yet I knew that sleep was the most efficient way for humans to heal.There’s no healing her.
Three months. Grace would never hold her own child, never watch them grow. She wouldn’t celebrate another solstice—if humans still did that, or savor the first snow of the year. Three months didn’t give her anything but the summer. She sure as hell wouldn’t live long enough to be a bride or bear a male’s mating mar—
She’s human, you idiot. They don’t mate.
And after centuries around the females of my own kind, I’d given up hope that I would, either.
“What are you reading?” I asked, since none of those thoughts could be spoken.
Blood flushed her cheeks, and I locked my jaw to keep my fangs in place. God, she smelled even better this close, but only an animal would want to weaken her even further by feeding.
“It’s a paranormal romance novel.” She shrugged.
“Paranormal as in…” I reached for the book, and she handed it over.
“Vampires.”
I nearly fumbled the hand-sized paperback. “I’m sorry?”
She pointed to the cover, where a bloodred rose dripped. “It’s the third book in theEternal Nightsseries. I spent so long reading academic books for school that I almost forgot just how fun fiction is.”
“Huh.” I opened to the dog-eared page. “How about I read it to you?” Hopefully she’d fall asleep and get some of that much-needed rest.
“You are going to read me a romance novel?” Her eyebrows rose with the pitch of her voice.
“Why not?” I glanced down at the page. “Seems like a good use of my time.”
“Suit yourself.” She grabbed the pillow at her side, set it in my lap, then pivoted, laying so her head rested on the pillow and her feet dangled off the end of the swing.
Fearless. The woman was fucking fearless.
And I loved it.
“You may begin.” She grinned up at me.
The urge to mold my mouth to hers and kiss her senseless nearly overpowered my common sense. Nearly.
Taste, my instincts demanded.
Shut the fuck up. I’m not in the mood for your shit tonight.
I started reading, catching on to the plot quickly. The heroine was a feisty brunette detective, out to solve a string of murders that she was certain the hero—a hundred-year-old vampire—had committed.
I immediately took his side.
As of this chapter, she’d begun to suspect he wasundead,whatever the fuck that meant. “I grabbed the crucifix my grandmother had left me, clasping it around my neck,” I read, gently rocking the swing with every push of my feet against the porch. “It was my best defense—” I snorted.
“What?” Grace asked.
“This author thinks that the symbol of the Christian faith is going to protect her from vampires?” What the hell else kind of nonsense was in here?
