Night's Master. Amanda Ashley

need to go to the restroom,” I said, and then wondered if Vampires had the same needs as humans. After all, they didn’t eat….

      The look in his eyes told me he knew this for the ploy it was.

      Rising, I forced myself to walk sedately out of the room. I stared at the closed door at the end of the hall. Why was it locked? What was he hiding in there? The image of a coffin quickly sprang to mind, something burnished and bronze with white satin lining. Shaking off the morbid mental imagery, I went into the bathroom, closed the door, and turned the lock.

      Standing in front of the sink, I soaked a washcloth in cold water and pressed it against my burning cheeks, hoping it would cool me off, although I doubted even a dip in the Arctic Ocean could put out the fire Raphael had ignited. What was I going to do about him?

      Sitting on the edge of the oval-shaped tub, I glanced at my surroundings. There were no windows in this room, either, and no mirrors. I noted absently that he had good taste, and I wondered if he had decorated the house himself or had it done by a professional decorator. The sink top was black marble veined with gold; the basin was white, the fixtures antique brass. The deep red towels hanging from the towel bar made a bold statement against the white walls. The stall shower was easily large enough for two. I quickly shook off the all-too-erotic image of the two of us in that shower, our bodies pressed together in a soapy, steamy embrace.

      I ran a hand through my hair, then glanced at my watch. I couldn’t stay in here forever. Sooner or later, I would have to go out and face him.

      I jumped when someone knocked on the door. It could only be Raphael.

      “You okay in there?” he asked.

      “Fine.”

      “You planning to come out anytime soon?” There was no mistaking the amusement in his voice.

      Muttering under my breath, I unlocked the door and came face-to-face with the man who had troubled my thoughts and haunted my dreams since the moment he walked into my store.

      “How long are you going to fight this attraction between us?” he asked.

      “Until I get over it,” I retorted.

      “Take as long as you need,” he said, a glint of humor lighting his dark eyes. “I’ve got time.”

      Indeed, I thought, he had all the time in the world.