"No.” She drew a deep breath and stole a quick glance at Raj. He sat watching her with that cool blue gaze of his, looking as if he had all the time in the world and was ready to spend it waiting for her to spill her guts. She restlessly played her fingers on her thigh until he reached out and placed his hand over hers, stilling them.
"Look at me, Sarah.” She did. “Whatever it is, whatever's going on . . . it can't be that bad. I'm a vampire, sweetheart. I drink human blood on a regular basis. What can you possibly have to tell me that would top that?"
She laughed and, to her horror, felt tears pressing against the back of her eyes. “It's just . . . I've spent years getting away from it all, and now—"
"The other night you asked me about the other women. You wanted to know their names. Why?"
The tears were threatening to overflow and roll down her cheeks. She wanted to tell him the truth, and something told her he'd understand if she did. Maybe he was right, maybe it was because he was a vampire and nothing she could tell him would be worse than that. But—
"Tell me, Sarah."
"I left home when I was sixteen,” she whispered miserably, hating herself. “I couldn't live there anymore. I changed my name and cut off all contact so they couldn't find me.” It was close to the truth, close enough, she hoped, that he wouldn't know the difference.
He frowned at her in the dark car. “Why? Did something happen?"
She nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. “It just wasn't a good place for me."
"So where does Blackwood come in?” he asked, clearly puzzled.
"What?"
"Blackwood,” he repeated. “I saw your reaction at the police station and again tonight. You're really spooked by him."
"Blackwood . . .” Sarah said, thinking quickly, “. . . knew my parents. He'd recognize me and then . . . It's been twelve years since I've seen any member of my family. I'd like to keep it that way."
Raj was quiet, tapping on the steering wheel lightly, his gaze on the nighttime traffic, but his thoughts seemed far away. Abruptly, he looked back at her and asked, “So why this case? Why your interest in the missing women?"
"I just . . . I read about Trish in the paper. I felt sorry for her and I thought . . . Since I knew Tony sort of, and Cyn's my friend. I thought maybe I could do something instead of just waiting for Trish to die.” That part, at least, was true.
She waited for Raj's reaction, waited for him to blow up at her, accuse her of lying yet again, but he just tapped his fingers on the steering wheel some more, then checked his watch and said, “I've got to get you home."
When they reached the house, Sarah threw the car door open without waiting for Raj to turn off the engine. She started up the walk to her stairs, digging her keys out of her purse as she went. Behind her, she heard the beep of the BMW's remote and then he was next to her, beating her to the door and waiting while she unlocked it. She opened the door, stepped inside, and threw her purse on the stairs, shrugging out of her coat. Aware of him towering over her, she kept her heels on, but could still feel his cool stare following her every move. How much did he see? she wondered. Could vampires read human thoughts? Some said it was just a myth, but vampires weren't exactly lining up to be studied, so who really knew the truth?
"I'm going to put some water on for tea,” she said, not quite knowing what else to do. Raj followed her into the kitchen. As she reached for the kettle, his shadow fell over her and she had a moment of deja vu so strong, she had to grab onto the stove or fall over. She could feel him right behind her, blocking the doorway, his gaze icy hot against her back. Her heart began to race and a cold sweat covered her skin as she fought for her next breath.
"Sarah?"
She spun around at the sound of his voice, overwhelmed by the desire to close the distance between them, to reach up and touch his face, to run her fingers through his thick hair and see if it felt as silky as it looked. To feel his arms holding her effortlessly while he picked her up and plunged his c*ck deep inside her again and again, until she was screaming his name.
Shocked by her own thoughts, she forced herself to look away. Avoiding his touch, she slid sideways down the counter, until she came to the refrigerator. She turned her back to him and opened the door, pulling out of a bottle of cold water and holding it to her overheated face. “Sorry,” she said. “I'm a little tired. I haven't been sleeping well."
"I should go, then. Let you sleep."
"No,” she said quickly, and then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity, grateful she was facing away from him and he couldn't see. She drew a deep breath and turned around, her gaze riveted to the water bottle as she twisted off the cap. “I was thinking I might be able to help with your investigation. You probably want to talk to some people on campus, and I could go with you, maybe, you know, since I work there. I thought we could be like partners,” she said reasonably. Unfortunately, when she raised her eyes, he wasn't looking at her like a partner. It was more like she was steak and he was a starving man.
Raj leaned in the doorframe, denying himself another step, afraid to get any closer to Sarah. His gums ached and his lips were closed tight over fangs that wanted nothing more than to sink into her soft flesh and drink the sweet nectar of her blood. He'd noted her reaction, known the moment her body remembered what had happened in the kitchen the night before, even though her mind had been wiped. He'd heard her heart speed up, had seen the sudden gleam of sweat above her lip, and known that the delicate valley between her br**sts would be warm and damp.
He straightened away from the door, as much to relieve the pressure in his groin as anything else. “All right,” he said, thinking this was a very bad idea. He should be avoiding any contact with her, not setting up a f**king partnership. But for some reason, his mouth just kept talking. “I do need to talk to people,” he said. “Witnesses, families, that sort of thing. And some people find me intimidating."
"Really?” she said in a thin voice.
"You, on the other hand . . .” He couldn't help himself. He closed the distance between them and reached out to twirl a lock of her blond hair around his finger. “You're apple pie and Sunday school. People probably come up to you on the street and tell you their secrets. Small children seek you out in a crowd when they've lost their mothers."
Sarah scowled at him, clearly not knowing if she should be flattered or insulted by his description.
Raj laughed, feeling the sexual tension drain away.
She gave him a little half smile. “What the hell,” she said. “When do we start?"