Brendan Vincent was a diehard—if he knew that she knew Martha, he might decide that Martha was a Southern spy!
She held still and waited, tempted to bite Cole Granger’s hand.
She somehow refrained.
If she were to bite him…
“Everything is fine, Martha, thank you. We did have a late night—you heard about the trouble at the prison. Well, it’s all over now and we’re just sitting with a bit of whiskey and winding down,” Cody said.
“Oh, thank goodness. I do worry about you boys.”
Martha, beautiful, sweet Martha. She hadn’t wanted her husband to go off. She had known she would become a widow.
“Boys?” Cody said with a laugh. “I’ll have to tell Brendan. He’d appreciate that.”
“You young men!” Martha corrected.
“Thank you for your concern. We’re fine. And we won’t forget breakfast, Martha, I promise you.”
The door closed. Megan gave a good hard kick backward, getting Cole Granger in the shin. He tensed but didn’t let go.
“I don’t think I like your sister much, Cody,” he said, easing his hold then and pressing her firmly away.
She turned and stared at him, it was becoming increasingly difficult to remain calm in the face of this irritating man. “You don’t know how lucky you are that I’m a temperate and reasonable woman,” she said pleasantly.
“Oh, you can get worse than this?” Cole inquired.
Patience…
But her temper had flared. She drew back her lips and let out a hissing sound, displaying the fangs she could summon within seconds. She felt they were really quite beautiful…not that that was the effect she was going for here.
“Holy, Jesus!” Brendan Vincent cried, jumping back.
Cole Granger held his ground.
“Don’t make a move!” Cody warned.
She smiled sweetly, retracting her fangs. “If I’d wanted to hurt anyone here, Cody Fox, I could have bitten off the ever-so-charming Sheriff Granger’s fingers just moments ago. Don’t you get it? What is the matter with you? Why don’t you believe me? I’m your sister—your half sister, your father’s daughter!” she said, praying again for patience and control.
Brendan Vincent stared at Cody. “She could be any bloodsucking monster out there,” he cautioned. “She could have found out things about you. God knows—there is a war going on. She could be here to kill us all in our sleep. I say we stake her right now.”
“Now, now, hold up,” Cole said, arms crossed over his chest as he walked around her. “She did fight with us at the prison. And look close. She and Cody have the same eyes.”
“I’m not getting that close,” Brendan said.
Cole smiled at that. “She could have killed us a few times already, if that had been her intent. Well, maybe she couldn’t have killed Cody.”
“Well, maybe you should have just staked her at the prison,” Brendan muttered.
Cody had moved closer. Megan stood very still, watching him as he resurveyed her, head to toe. Admittedly, she wasn’t particularly well dressed. One didn’t pick one’s finest ball gown for a romp with ravenous killing machines in a prison yard. She wore a simple tailored blouse, vest, form-hugging, knee-length jacket, men’s breeches and boots.
But he wasn’t looking at her attire, she knew.
His gaze rose at last so that his eyes met hers. Fire and ice. They were the same hazel and green color of his own, a color that seemed like gold. She wore it well. Her eyes were fascinating, compelling—mesmerizing. Or so her admirers had told her.
Cody touched her hair, drawing his fingers through it. Suddenly, he smiled. “Let me see those fangs again.”
She flushed, looking at the others. “Cody, it makes your friends uncomfortable.”
“My friends know exactly what I am. They just want you to be the same, and nothing worse.”
She allowed her fangs to show once again.
Yes, she was half vampire. Go figure. Her father seemed to have a steady ability to propagate. It wasn’t like all the things that she’d read about vampires, but then again, who really knew anything about them?
“What else did your mother say about my father?” Cody asked.
“It’s really a long story….”
“A long story, Cody,” Cole Granger spoke up from behind her brother, coming forward. “I personally find long stories wonderfully intriguing.” To her astonishment, he paused, gripped her chin and looked into her mouth—at her receding fangs. He looked at her mouth and studied her teeth and fangs as if he were looking at the quality of a horse he was considering for purchase.
Oh, she was tempted to bite.
Oh, so tempted.
She restrained. He was pushing her. He knew that a bite wouldn’t turn him into an uncontrolled maniac. Nor would a single bite kill him.
He was trying to see if she would snap—if she was capable of control.
She pretended boredom. And strangely, surprisingly, she discovered that she liked something about him….
It was his scent, she realized. He smelled of leather and musky soap, of the night air and of something more subtle and deep and alluring. Horses, whiskey…and himself.
Bathed.
God, she loved the smell of a man who had bathed. These days, it didn’t seem there were many of those. God knew that many a man’s uniform, worn day in and day out as the war dragged on, reeked to high heaven. Well, this fellow wasn’t a soldier. He was a sheriff, in a town, with a house most likely.
“We are always ready to be entertained by a story, and yet I find myself wondering not about any story, but rather what thoughts are prowling through that little mind,” Cole said.
She blinked. There was certainly no chance she intended to have a deep and philosophical discussion with this man.
No matter how delicious he smelled.
She smiled. “I was actually thinking, sir, that you smell quite good.”
Cody burst out with a laugh.
Brendan even grinned. “Good thing you do enjoy lathering away in a tub, Cole.”
She couldn’t help herself. She allowed her smile to deepen. “Good enough to eat,” she said sweetly.
She was surprised when Cody came to her
