“What do you mean ‘more’?”
“He has a knack for magic, as well. It’s a potent combination.”
“I can imagine.”
“Oddly enough, my maternal grandmother is also a practicing witch.”
“So he inherited it from her?”
“No, our mother was adopted.”
“Your family is certainly unique.”
Rafe nodded. “Indeed.”
“And your brother, he doesn’t want to be a witch or a Vampire?”
“So it seems. All his life, he’s been torn between light and dark, between good and evil. Becoming a Vampire was more than he could handle. He ran away from us, and from himself. I looked for him. The family looked for him, but he’s closed his heart and his mind to us. I don’t know how he is, or where he is. All I know is that he’s alive.” Rafe stared past me, his expression bleak. “I’d know if he were dead.”
I had read somewhere that Vampires were incapable of tender human emotions, but whoever had written such a thing would surely have changed his mind if he could have seen the anguish on Rafe’s face, the hurt in his eyes, or heard the pain in his voice.
I stared at him, wishing I could help, and thinking that I had learned more about Raphael Cordova and Vampires than I had ever wanted to know.
Chapter Four
Raphael was right about the filet mignon. It was the best I had ever tasted, rare and tender and seasoned to perfection. I have to admit, I felt a little strange enjoying a full-course meal in front of a Vampire. When I offered him a bite of my steak, he made the kind of face I would have made had he offered me a glass of warm blood.
“Don’t you ever eat anything?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine never drinking a glass of ice-cold lemonade on a hot day, never eating a double scoop of fudge-ripple ice cream, never biting into a cold, tart green apple, or a juicy slice of watermelon. And the thought of never again indulging in a brownie still warm from the oven didn’t even bear thinking about. “Don’t you miss it? Food, I mean.”
He looked at the steak on my plate. It was medium rare, the inside a deep rosy pink, just the way I liked it.
“Sometimes,” he admitted, “but not often.” Lifting his glass, he took a drink.
I wondered again if it was really wine. I told myself it had to be. I mean, he had obviously planned to share it with me until I ordered something else. Still, when I wasn’t looking, he could have signaled the waitress to bring him something more to his taste. I spent a moment debating whether to ask him, and then decided I didn’t really want to know.
The waitress arrived to clear our dishes. She asked Raphael if she could bring him anything else.
He looked at me. “Kathy?”
“Nothing more for me, thanks, I’m full.”
With a slight nod at me and a smile for Rafe, the waitress gathered my dishes and moved away from the table.
I shifted in my seat. I was all too aware of the silence, of the man beside me, and of the way his thigh was pressed intimately against my own. His scent tickled my nostrils. It wasn’t cologne, it wasn’t soap. I don’t know what it was, just the scent of the man himself, I guess.
“Kathy?”
“What?”
“Would you like to go for a drive?”
I cleared a throat gone suddenly dry. Every instinct I possessed screamed that going for a drive with a man whose scent was more intoxicating than a shot of whiskey straight up was a very bad idea. So naturally I said yes.
Moments later we were flying down the highway at a hundred miles an hour. It was a first for me, and I have to admit that it was exhilarating until I let myself think about what would happen if the car skidded out of control and wrapped itself around a tree. It probably wouldn’t hurt Raphael much, at least not permanently. I would most likely end up dead.
Before I could ask him to slow down, he eased off the gas and turned on the radio. Kenny G’s “Songbird” filled the air, though I didn’t pay much attention. I was too busy watching the speedometer. I didn’t relax until we were doing a nice, reasonably safe sixty.
Raphael flashed a grin in my direction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Going a hundred miles an hour with my hair on fire has always been my way of letting off steam.”
“Really? What are you steamed up about?”
“You.”
“Me?” The word emerged from my throat as little more than a squeak.
With a nod, he pulled off the road and put the car in Park. “You.” His dark eyes glowed when he looked at me. “I’ve wanted you since the first night I saw you.”
Mindful that a Vampire could mesmerize a human with little more than a glance, I was careful not to meet his gaze.
“Admit it,” he said, and there was a rough edge to his voice. “You feel the same about me.”
I started to deny it, but the words died, unspoken, as I recalled the image I’d had of the two of us lying entwined in each other’s arms. I wasn’t about to admit it, though, especially not here and now.
“Kathy, look at me.”
“No way.”
“Still afraid of me?”
“Darn right! I know all about Vampires….” That was a lie. All I really knew for sure was that they drank blood, slept in coffins, and that the sun turned them to ash in the blink of an eye.
“Do you?” he asked, amusement evident in his tone.
“Well, not all,” I amended, “but enough to know better than to look one in the eye.” Especially now, when we were parked on a dark, deserted road in the middle of nowhere. I could scream for help until the cows came home, but no one would hear me.
I felt the weight of his gaze on my bowed head, felt the heat of his desire brush my senses like a breath of summer air. It filled the car with an almost palpable energy. I didn’t know if it was some kind of Vampire magic or not, but it was all I could do to keep from crawling into his lap and begging him to make love to me. If Vampires had pheromones, his were working overtime.
“I think you’d better take me home.”
I shivered as his fingertips slid, slow and sensuous, down my arm. “Is that what you want?”
I nodded. Being this close to him in a confined space was far too dangerous, and far too tempting. I mean, he was the most gorgeous creature, man or Vampire, that I had ever seen, and I’m only human, after all. Add to that the fact that I hadn’t been in a man’s arms or kissed by anyone other than my mother in a good long time, and well, you get the idea.
“Kathy.” He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced my head up. “Please don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you. I won’t hypnotize you. I swear I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to do.”
There was no safety in that, I thought wildly. I wanted him to sweep me into his arms and make mad, passionate love to me in every way humanly, or inhumanly, possible. I wanted to feel his hands on my body, wanted my hands on him.
I swallowed hard, glad that he couldn’t read my mind. “Why me?”
He smiled faintly. “Why not you?”
“But, you’ve been a Vampire for years. You must have had dozens of women….” I stared at him. For all I knew, he had a wife waiting at home. “You’re