A Vampire for Christmas - By Michele Hauf Page 0,115

she wouldn’t want him to stay.

Silly man.

Tearing out of the bathroom, she ran straight through the diner and out into the cold Seattle night. Where was he? She looked up and down the block. Nothing. She stared at the alley across the street where he’d stood before. “Eagan!”

She strained to listen. All she could hear was the distant traffic on the interstate. “Eagan, come back. Please.”

Nothing but silence. She fingered his card in her pocket. At least she had a way to get in touch with him. The only question was if she should try now or wait. Her eyes burned with tears from the shock of everything that had happened combined with a profound sense of loss, as if she’d let something precious slip through her fingers.

Time to go inside. She still had a mess to clean up if she didn’t want to answer a lot of awkward questions in the morning. But before she went inside, she froze. That same feeling of being watched was back.

She closed her eyes, afraid to look, and even more afraid that she was imagining things. “Eagan, tell me that it’s you.”

His voice came from right behind her shoulder. “Are you sure you want it to be?”

Two steps backward was all it took to bump into his solid strength. “Very sure.”

He didn’t back away, but neither did he embrace her. “I can’t change what I am, Della.”

“I don’t remember asking you to.”

When his hands came to rest on her shoulders, she tipped her head back to look up at him. The blue in his eyes was ringed with a circle of black. Striking, but not scary. The tips of those long teeth were a little unnerving. When he realized that she was looking at them, he clamped his lips shut.

That’s all it took to have her spinning around to face him. She brushed her fingertips across that stern mouth and followed up the caress with a soft kiss. “Sorry, Eagan, I didn’t mean to stare. This is all new to me.”

He remained stiff, poised as if to disappear again if she made the wrong move or said the wrong thing. Okay, if he needed her to take charge, she would, starting with trailing her hands up the length of his arms up to encircle his neck. She slowly eased forward, closing the last small gap between them, seeking his warmth.

Rather than rush things, she laid her cheek against the staccato beat of his heart. Had he just pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head? Maybe. She hoped so. She sighed as his arms slowly wrapped around her with a gentle strength that made it clear he wouldn’t be letting go anytime soon.

Time to step up the game.

“Kiss me, Eagan.”

He looked so darn serious. “You’re playing with fire here, Della. There are things you should know before we go any further. About me. What I am and what I do.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s just a kiss, Eagan.”

That was a lie, and they both knew it. That didn’t mean that she was strong enough to resist temptation, and evidently neither was he.

He tipped his head at just the perfect angle to mate his mouth to hers. She smiled against the gentle pressure, loving the soft feel of his lips. She traced the full curve of his mouth with her tongue. When she felt the tips of his canine teeth, she paused long enough to test their sharpness.

Eagan growled deep in his chest, ramping up their embrace from a slow burn to a total conflagration in only seconds. The fire slid through her veins, through her bones, to pool hot and deep within her. She raised up on her toes, frantic to get closer, demanding he fill the emptiness that had haunted her life for far too long.

A single kiss would never be enough, not when she needed so much more from him. With considerable effort she managed to pull away long enough to say, “Let’s go inside.”

And if she hadn’t made her intentions clear enough, she added, “Take me upstairs, Eagan. Now.”

When he hesitated, she caught his hand in hers and tugged him along in her wake. As soon as they were inside with the door locked against the world outside, he pressed her against the wall for another soul-searing kiss. His powerful hands kneaded her bottom as he rocked against her, the rigid proof of his desire for her all too clear—and impressive. Her desire for his touch