blood sucking vampire.
Not really alive, but not dead.
He was undead.
There was no telling how many innocent people he’d killed.
Well, she wasn’t about to be added to his numbers.
Without giving a single warning, she jerked the gaudy silver cross from her pocket and shoved it against his forehead.
Paoli let out a howl of shock and pain. His face contorted demonically, his features twisting into a horrifying mask. He was no longer remotely handsome. Instead, he looked like something right out of a nightmare. His eyes were wide and gleaming with a red light, his mouth open in a scream, revealing the length of very long, white fangs.
Emily stared at those fangs in morbid fascination, unable to look away. She wondered that she hadn’t noticed them before.
Had he sunk them into her while she was unaware?
Just the thought enraged her further.
When he shrank into the back seat, she stayed with him, climbing over the armrest of the car to maintain the contact.
She was no one’s victim.
William grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Paoli even as he maneuvered the car off the side of the road.
Just before they came to a stop, Emily jerked her arm free and jumped through the door in a flash.
With an uttered oath, William threw the car into park and leaped from the driver’s side to give chase. His vision was perfect at night, and he had no trouble locating her, though she was moving faster than he’d ever seen a human go. Annoyance warred with respect as he made three leaping steps to land directly in her path.
Emily almost ran right into him.
One moment, she was running for her life—her heart hammering so hard she could scarcely breathe—but sure she could use the cover of trees to escape the horrible death they had planned for her.
The next moment, he was right in front of her, just appearing out of the dark like an apparition. She came to a stop so suddenly her legs slid out from under her and she landed on her backside right at his feet with a painful thump that knocked the breath right out of her.
Before she could scramble away, a massively strong arm picked her up, and she found her back pinned against his large chest while her legs dangled off the ground. His arm was firmly locked just under her breasts, and she was well and truly trapped.
Panic lent her strength.
She kicked for his shins and swung her head backward just like they taught her in self‐defense class, hoping to make contact with his nose. Her instructor would have been proud. She screamed and snapped her teeth toward his arm like a wild piranha, determined to take a chunk of flesh.
If her dead body was to be discovered here, she wanted to die knowing she’d inflicted damage, at the very least.
Meanwhile, William held her fast, fighting his own battle as he waited patiently for her to wear herself out.
Her hair flew in his face, saturating him with her wonderful scent. It surrounded him and drew him in. Nothing had ever smelled so wonderful, so tempting. Her squirming was enough to test his control in other ways, so he was trapped in a torturous hell of desires and needs.
It had been so long since he’d had a woman, or even any interest in one. Now, the years of celibacy seemed to weigh on him, and his manhood strained enough to make him grateful his pants were made to stretch.
He was holding on to his control by the thinnest of threads. Which made his voice sharper than he intended when she finally started to slow down.
“Are you quite finished with this foolishness?” he demanded harshly.
“Let go of me!” she cried, her voice on the edge of hysteria.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, giving her a small shake that jarred her teeth.
“You were supposed to be my savior from the werewolves. But you just took me from them to attack me yourselves,” she accused.
Another booted foot swung into his shin. Her head flew backward toward him again, and William worried for a moment she may hurt herself trying to do him harm.
With his free hand, he braced her head against his shoulder to keep her from using it as a battering ram. He held her until she couldn’t struggle any longer and went limp and panting in his arms. He couldn’t stop himself from running his nose along the sensitive spot right behind her ear and breathing her in.
She went very still.
“Let me make a few things very clear to you, Emily,” he murmured, letting his hot breath lick against her skin. “First of all, I am no savior. I am no hero, and I’m not the good guy. Secondly, neither me nor Paoli has attacked you. Yet.”
The last word hung in the air, heavy with double meaning.
“You’re lying,” she hissed, but her voice sounded less sure.
“I’m not,” he whispered.
His lips brushed the pulse beating like hummingbird wings in her throat, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. It would only take the smallest pressure.
Just a taste.
He turned his face and tried to breathe away the impulse.
“He did something to me,” she accused, her voice now a husky whisper.
“He did,” William agreed distractedly, continuing his exploration of the hollow behind her ear.
Her involuntary shudder and following gooseflesh made him smile hungrily.
“He put you in a brief trance so we could have a private conversation. That’s all,” William murmured throatily.
He brushed his mouth against her throat again, unable to stop himself. Her skin was velvet soft.
“He’s a vampire,” she said.
It wasn’t quite a question, but he decided to treat as such.
“He is,” William agreed.
There was no reason to deny it. Under normal circumstances, Paoli preferred no one know what he was. William respected that and would never reveal his secrets. But the car incident proved she already knew the truth. If she’d been merely suspicious before, Paoli’s reaction to her cross had surely solidified the knowledge.
“But you’re safer with us than anywhere else in the world,” he said.
It wasn’t until they were spoken that he realized how true the words were. Even with his body on fire and his need to pierce her throat riding him hard, he would never hurt her. Taste her, yes. He would taste her very soon. But never hurt her.
It was a strange revelation for him, considering his self‐control
