"Actually, the last time I attempted to enjoy coffee in Paris, I nearly had my head lopped off by the guillotine," he murmured. "So you see, lover, it's all a matter of perspective."
Abby stumbled at the off-hand confession. "Good Lord, would you stop that?" she complained.
"What?"
"Mentioning the past so casually. I thought I was ancient because I can remember Melrose Place."
He merely laughed. Damn his vampire soul. 'You were the one who brought up the subject of Paris. I was merely offering my own experiences there."
Her gaze swept over the beautiful features bathed in moonlight. "So you were really in Paris during the Reign of Terror?"
"For a few unforgettable months." He smiled ruefully. "I would suggest that you visit when there isn't a revolution in progress."
Abby rolled her eyes. Her in glamorous, sophisticated Paris? Yeah, the same day that she sprouted wings and tattooed her butt.
"I'll keep that in mind when the destined-never-to-be opportunity rolls around," she said dryly.
His eyes smoldered like liquid silver in the shadows. "Who knows what the future might hold, lover? A few days ago you didn't expect to be on the run with a vampire or battling to save the world from evil."
"Actually, it would have seemed a lot more likely than a luxurious vacation in France."
Reaching out, he gave a tug on a curl that had strayed from her braid. 'You're too young to be so cynical."
"I'm realistic, not cynical," she corrected firmly. "Vacations in Paris are not for women who make minimum wage and—" She came to an abrupt halt, her eyes widening in horror. "Holy hell."
A subtle tension prickled around Dante as he swept a searching gaze about them. "What is it?"
"I'm out of a job, and my rent is due."
There was a moment of sharp silence before Dante tilted back his head to offer a very unsympathetic laugh. With a frown, Abby slapped her hands on her hips.
"What's so funny?"
He reached up to grasp her chin with his slender fingers. "You've become a Chalice for a powerful spirit, confronted demons, and are about to place yourself in the hands of witches. Now you're worried about whether or not you can pay the rent?"
Her eyes narrowed at his amusement. "I'm worried about spending my days pushing a shopping cart down the streets and sleeping under a park bench—very real possibilities that are as bad as any demon or witch."
His brows drew together as his fingers strayed to brush over her cheek. 'You think I would allow you to be tossed into the street?"
Something painful clenched in her heart. Soon enough, the witches would remove the spell from her and Dante would be bound to another. Why would he ever give her another thought?
They were the proverbial ships, or in this case vampire and mortal, who passed in the night.
Troubled more than she cared to admit at the thought of being completely alone once again, Abby forced a stiff smile to her lips.
"Well, you did lock you former lover in a cellar."
"Only in self-defense." His fingers tightened on her face, his expression oddly somber. "I have promised that nothing will harm you, Abby. Nothing. It's a promise I intend to keep no matter what the future might hold."
She was forced to swallow the lump lodged in her throat as her hand lifted to cover the fingers upon her cheek. By God, but he knew how to steal a woman's heart.
"Dante," she breathed softly.
A low groan was wrenched from his throat as Dante pressed his forehead to her own.
"Oh, lover, if you have any pity in your heart, you won't look at me like that. At least not now."
A dark sinful heat raced through Abby as she pressed herself next to Dante's hard body. If they weren't standing in a thorn briar, or if demons weren't chasing them, or if there weren't witches lurking nearby, she would have thrown him to the ground and have had her way with him.