by Jessica Sims
“I’m Andre.”
“Oh, wow,” I said, unable to hide my smile. I stood up and extended my hand. “Hi. I’m Minnie.”
“Wow?” he asked with a grin.
I was charmed by that toothy smile. Everything was out in the open with him—he didn’t hide his fangs under a close-lipped smirk like the last guy. It made me feel like I could trust him. “You just look . . . better than I expected,” I said honestly.
“The vampire thing?” he asked delicately, though the grin remained on his face.
Oh, I must have offended him. “No,” I said quickly. “The dating service thing. I seem to strike out a lot.”
“I can’t imagine why,” he said, moving behind my chair to push it in for me. “You look just fine to me.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, and sat down. He moved back to the other side of the table and sat down across from me. As one of the waiters zoomed past, Andre raised a hand to call him over. Cuff links glinted, and I studied his clothing. He was wearing a dark gray suit jacket over a lighter dress shirt. Nice togs.
For some reason I thought of Josh’s endless T-shirts and jeans, then I shook the thought away. Thinking about him on my date wasn’t going to help me with anything.
“A bottle of red wine, please.” Andre glanced over at me, the polite smile remaining in place. “If that’s all right.”
“Wine’s fine,” I agreed. Heck, I was just happy that my date was going to drink instead of stare at my neck all night. When the waiter left, I clasped my hands in my lap to stop their nervous twitching. “So, Andre, what do you do?”
He blinked at me, puzzled.
Merde. I must have said something wrong. “I’m sorry. Old money?”
“Oh,” he said with a slow laugh. “Yes. Sorry. I didn’t understand the question at first. It’s not really done in my circles.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, wishing I could crawl under the table. Embarrassment made my cheeks hot. “I didn’t realize.”
“Guess it’s a big deal with were-otters?” He gave me an assessing look.
“Overprotective parents,” I lied with a smile.
“I can only imagine,” Andre said easily, glancing up at the waiter as he placed two wineglasses on the table. We waited in companionable silence as the waiter popped the cork and began to pour. When he’d left again, Andre picked up his glass and raised it to me. “Toast?”
I raised my glass and looked at him expectantly.
“To the start of something delicious,” Andre said.
Now that was something I could get behind. I clinked my glass to his and took a drink.
“Shall we order?” Andre said, picking up his menu.
I glanced down at mine and sucked in a small breath. The letters on the menu blurred and bled off the page, my eyes doing that weird thing again. I closed them for a minute, and then gave Andre what I hoped was a helpless, feminine smile. “Will you order for me?”
He looked pleased. “But of course.”
• • •
Dinner went well. Better than well. Andre was cultured and polite, and very amusing. For every topic we touched upon, he had an interesting story to tell. I learned that he was four hundred years old, owned a nearby art gallery that he’d purchased some fifty years ago, and loved classical music. He hated modern music, television, and cell phones, but he adored modern cars, especially sports cars.
I did my best to keep the conversation focused on him, all the better to not have to make up an elaborate story about my fictional self. Andre seemed more than happy to talk about himself. The date went on for hours as we chatted, and we slowly went through the bottle of wine. Inside my purse, my phone buzzed over and over with texts, but I ignored it.
My date was going great. Hell, yes, I thought, smiling at Andre over my glass. I had this one in the bag.
“So, Minnie.” Andre tilted his wineglass and smiled at me. “I have to ask. You’re young. You’re very pretty. And female shifters are in quite a lot of demand, I hear. What made you decide to look . . . elsewhere?”
Basically, Why are you dating a vampire?
I thought for a minute, remembering Josh’s words. Vampires were predators. They liked the chase. I needed to give him something to hook his interest without scaring him off.
I bit my lip, and his attention immediately fell to my mouth. Ah. Vampires. Biting fetish. I’d keep that in mind for later. I bit my lip for a bit longer, then gave him what I hoped passed for a shy smile. “Most of the men in my clan are rather young, and the older ones are domineering. I like men with experience, but I don’t like the brutish alpha attitudes.”
He smiled and gave the barest of nods. “Culture can be hard to find, sometimes. It’s a good thing we’ve met, then.”
Oddly enough, that made me think of Josh, with his baseball cap and his sly, knowing grin. He was the opposite of cultured, but he was utterly delicious.
I pushed the thought away. “I can honestly say that I am incredibly pleased to meet you, Andre.”
His smile deepened. “The feeling is mutual.”
• • •
I snuck back to the agency an hour later, slightly tipsy and giddy with how well my date had gone. Things were looking up. Way, way up.
“How’d it go?” Ryder asked as soon as I walked through the door.
“Like a charm!” I told her.
And then I blacked out.
• • •
“Marie? Marie!” A warm hand patted my cheek frantically. “Wake up, girl.”
I put a hand up and batted the patting one away. Then I cracked my eyes open and stared into Ryder’s concerned face, and the office ceiling above her. What was I doing on the floor? My body throbbed in places that shouldn’t have been injured, but I couldn’t remember falling.
“Mmm. What happened?”
She sat back on her haunches and shook her head. “How about you tell me?”
I sat up, wincing, and rubbed my forehead. “I must have fainted.”
“Did you drink too much?” Ryder’s gaze was obviously concerned. “Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
I waved it off. “No, no. I’m fine.” The ambulance can’t do anything for me.
She looked at me dubiously.
“I’m serious. I’m fine.” To prove it, I got to my feet, wobbly in the high heels.
Ryder helped me up, and I moved toward my desk. As soon as I sat down she leaned over me, brushing lint and dirt off the sweater I’d borrowed. “You sure you’re okay?”
I gave her a wry smile. “It’s nothing that a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure.” I raised a pinky into the air and looked at her. “Pinky swear that this goes on the list of dirty secrets known only to you and me?”
She sighed but hooked her pinky in mine. “Pinky swear. I just worry about you, Marie.”
“I know you do. But I need this to stay a secret, Ryder. It’s important.”
She sighed heavily. “It’ll stay under the pinky rules. Just be careful with yourself.”
And that was why Ryder was my best friend.
She insisted on getting me a drink of water, then she went back to her desk. I clicked over to my Minnie profile to log my date—a requirement of all participants in the Midnight Liaisons dating service—and noticed that I already had a message.
From Andre.
I clicked on it, feeling a flutter of excitement in my breast.
Beautiful Minnie. It was an utter pleasure to meet you this evening. I feel incredibly lucky that I had the opportunity to go out with you, and would love to make lightning strike twice. I’d love to see you again. Say, Friday? You pick the venue. All my devotion, Andre.
If I could have stood up, I would have done a touchdown dance. I might not die after all!
Despite my pounding headache, I was so excited that I could barely concentrate on work. I quickly accepted Andre’s request for a second date. After that, I threw myself into updating files and answering emails, logging information and ke
eping busy. All the while, my brain was racing a mile a minute.
This could really happen. I was one step closer to getting someone to turn me!
By the time the morning shift got to the office, I was so wired with excitement that I bounded to my car and sped all the way home.
I pulled into my parking space and raced up the stairs, only to stop short in surprise. Josh was sitting on my second-floor stoop, his baseball cap pulled low. He stood at the sight of me, his eyes feral and glinting in the early morning sunlight.
“Where have you been?” His intense gaze ran over me, as if checking me over and reassuring himself. “I’ve texted you for the last several hours and you haven’t responded. Is everything okay?”
Even Josh’s concern couldn’t harsh my buzz. I quickly unlocked my front door and sauntered inside. “I was on a date with an amazing vampire, and everything is great.”
He followed me in, frowning. “Amazing . . . vampire?”
“Andre, remember? He was on the list.”
“He was a ‘maybe,’ Marie. I’m not sure that I like him as your pick. There’s something about him that’s untrustworthy.”
I waved his concerns away, shutting the door. “Andre’s one of the better ones. He’s good-looking, friendly, polite, and he wants to see me again!” I punctuated the last with a giddy little hop and grinned at him. “Isn’t that awesome?”
He stared at me as if fascinated.
I stilled, giving him a blank look. “What? What is it?”
“You.” The awed expression remained on his face. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile, Marie.”
I grinned up at him. I hadn’t had a lot to smile about lately, but right now? The world had potential, and I was thrilled to be in it.
Josh’s hand went to my waist and he stepped forward. He kept staring down at me, and my smile began to slide away, my pulse quickening. Was something wrong? But then he tilted his head toward me, slowly, his eyes going hazy with desire, and I realized he was going to kiss me. Those lips that I’d been fantasizing about for days moved closer to mine.
I should have turned him away. Should have thrown on the brakes and stepped out of his grasp. There was Andre, the vampire with potential, to think about. My future of living a full, healthy undead life.
But Josh was here, in my arms, his strong arms wrapped around my waist, his gorgeous face tilted close to mine. He looked completely and utterly delicious, and so ready to kiss me.
I tilted my face to his.
“You sure you want me to kiss you, Marie?” Josh said softly, his mouth so close that I felt his lips whisper over my own, a merciless tease.
“If I didn’t, you’d be sitting on the front step right now,” I told him, looking up into his eyes. They were still gleaming like a cat’s, and it was even more noticeable now that we were inside my dark apartment. I was fascinated by the way they reflected the light.
“Good,” he said, the sound half a growl. Then his mouth descended on mine.
I whimpered at the fierce possessiveness of his kiss. This wasn’t the coaxing tease that he’d given me before. This was a brand of ownership, and I was totally unprepared for the intensity of it. His mouth swooped over mine, hard, hot, his tongue sliding into my mouth in a slow rhythm that left no doubt in my mind what he intended.
Josh was kissing the hell out of me, and it wasn’t because he was excited for me that I’d found a vampire. He was kissing the hell out of me because he wanted to claim me for his own.
Surely not.
But then he was kissing me harder, dazing me with the intensity—and deliciousness—of his kiss. He sucked at my lower lip and bit it in a sensual invitation. “You’re so beautiful,” he told me softly, and his hand stroked up my back, pulling me tight against him.
I moaned at the feel of that big, warm body against mine. My hands went around his neck, my face tilting up for another kiss. Why stop now?
He seemed happy to oblige, but this time it was a light, teasing kiss intended to coax my mouth open and leave me wanting.
“You’re mine,” he whispered against my mouth just before he stroked his tongue into my mouth again.
My internal brakes squealed to a halt.
Chapter Nine
I shoved at his chest. “Excuse me?”
Josh didn’t respond, and I pushed his jaw away when he leaned in to nibble on my neck. “Joshua Russell!”
He finally leaned back. “What?”
“I am not yours.”
A devastating, confident grin spread over his face. “Then quit kissing me back, Marie.” When he leaned in to kiss me again, I averted my face. He drew back, looking puzzled. “Why is it not okay for me to kiss you?”
“Because you’re declaring ownership like some sort of Neanderthal. I’m not yours. I am mine. If you still want that one-night stand you keep mentioning, I’m totally game for that. Just not anything else.”
He stared at me as if I’d grown another head.
“What?” I asked. “You’re the big ladies’ man. You said yourself that you don’t date more than once. Can’t I do the same?”
Josh’s eyes were flashing cat in that way that told me he was completely irritated. “So you want a one-night stand?”
“Sure.” My heart thudded at the very thought of spending the night with Josh. No strings attached. Just him and me, in bed together, doing lovely, dirty things to each other. “I’m fine with that.”
“And then you’re going to turn right back around and go out with that vampire again, right?”
When he put it that way . . . “Right.”
“And you think I’m not going to have a problem with this?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Why not? You’re a serial dater. I’m surprised you don’t have ten women lined up in the wings, just waiting for you to crook your finger and they’ll come running. You just snap your fingers and panties go flying.”
“I haven’t dated anyone in weeks, Marie. Not since I started helping you out. Does that tell you anything?”
I forced myself not to play through the possibilities. “All it tells me is that you’re going through a dry spell.”
He hissed, and to my shock, it sounded just like . . . a cat. I watched his eyes go completely feral, his nostrils flaring. His eyes glinted with the low light and I gasped, realizing that they were changing to were-cougar eyes. Josh was losing his grip on his humanity. His hands went to my shoulders, and I felt his claws prick against my shirt, digging into the fabric just enough to let me know that they were there.
He smiled, and I watched his canines elongate. “Is this what turns you on, then, Marie? You want to see some crazy supernatural shit in bed? I don’t understand this fetish, but if that’s what it takes to make you look at me, I’ll give you what you need.”
He thought I was a freak with a vampire fetish? That . . . hurt. I gave him my iciest look. “Get your hands off me.”
He flung himself away, pacing into my living room. His movements were quick, jerky, as if he was working hard to control himself. He wouldn’t look at me.
I felt . . . awkward. Unhappy. I was losing his friendship, which wasn’t what I wanted. Not at all. How was I supposed to fix this situation? How could I? Why had I let him get close in the first place? “I’m sorry, Josh. You just don’t understand.”
He laughed, but there was no amusement in his voice. “I don’t understand? I’ve been hitting on you for weeks, Marie. I know it’s hard to get it through your thick skull, but I like you. I like your personality. I think you’re beautiful. I live for one of those rare smiles. I love it when you chop people down to size with that tongue of yours. I don’t even mind when it’s me. Every time you speak French, I get instantly hard. And all you want are . . . vampires?”
He turned around, and I saw frustration in his face. “So tell me, Marie. What does a vampire have that I don’t? Because I’m seriously interested, but it seems that all you’re looking for is a cheap thri
ll. Is it that they have bigger fangs? Is it the undead thing? What?”
I said nothing.
He swore. “I’m sorry—I’m done here. I can’t win this one, and you won’t talk to me, so have a nice life, Marie Bellavance. I’m sure you’ll find just the right vampire, since only a vampire will do.”
He opened the door.
Panic flared in my chest. He was going to walk away. Forever. If he left now, it was for keeps. “Josh—I’m dying.”
He slowly turned. He stared at me. After a long, tense moment, he said, “What did you just say?”
I felt naked, laid open in a way that I was unused to. Josh was the first one I’d shared this with. “I’m . . . dying.” To my horror, my voice broke a little on the last word. “I probably have six months to a year before . . . the end.”
Which wouldn’t be pretty. And I’d be a mess long before then, completely out of my mind and unable to function.
He quietly shut the door and leaned against it, staring at me as if unable to grasp what I was telling him. “I . . . Marie, I didn’t know.”
“Well, of course you didn’t,” I told him, forcing my tone to be light and wry, as if my world hadn’t been falling apart right then. “I haven’t told anyone except you.”
“Is it cancer?”
I wish. The thought came immediately, and I began to laugh hysterically, because the thought was absurd. God, that was fucked-up.
“No,” I said. “It’s not cancer. It’s something called fatal familial insomnia.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s very rare. My mother had it. Died from it ten years ago. I inherited the gene. It’s not supposed to kick in until I’m forty or so, but it hit early.”
He shook his head, moving closer, and reached out toward me. “Marie—”
I moved away before he could touch me, hugging my arms to my chest, feeling sick. Admitting it to another person meant that it existed. It meant really, really acknowledging it. I was flat-out panicking, and I felt the absurd urge to cry.
