A Vampire for Christmas - By Michele Hauf Page 0,5

low, had always been one of their prime objectives.

His relationship with Charlotte last year had progressed quickly. What he’d intended to be just an indulgence had turned out to be so much more. Although she hadn’t known the truth about him, he had begun having real feelings for her. Then there was that horrible business with his cousin, which, coupled with the deathbed promise he’d made to his father several months before, had been the catalyst that had forced him to do the right thing. Over and over he’d told himself it was a blessing in disguise when he had to wipe her memory. She could never know the truth about him. Not only did she deserve much more than a relationship built on lies, but if he wanted the Council to vote him in, things between them had to end.

“I told you, I’m fine. I don’t need your help. You can leave now.” Her voice was strained and she still looked frightened from her ordeal. He’d been too short with her.

This would be the perfect opportunity to step away and close the car door, let her leave, he told himself. But his feet felt cemented to the spot. “Please.”

She hesitated, but still didn’t give him her hand.

“Those two were bad news. I figured you’d just drive away.” He ran a finger inside his suddenly too-tight collar.

She looked appalled. “Without knowing what happened? What if you had needed help? It was two against one, you know.”

Touched by her concern, he resisted the urge to reach out to her, run a finger along her jaw. Nothing had changed about her. She was still more concerned for someone else’s well-being than her own. Hell, if he’d thought things through, he’d have known she wouldn’t leave without finding out what had happened to him.

He’d count to three, he told himself, and if she still refused his help, he’d go.

One. Two.

She held out her hand and he took it before he said three.

The instant he touched her, a jolt of electricity shot up his arm and she gave a gasp of surprise. Just as quickly, he put up a mental barrier to stop the sensation.

He’d forgotten how easily her energies transferred to him. Or how easily his body accepted them. Most humans couldn’t feel when a vampire was absorbing their energies like this; they’d simply be more lethargic than normal. But Charlotte sure did.

“Sorry about the static electricity. Happens to me sometimes.” Gently, he turned her hand over, trying to ignore the residual warmth flowing through his system.

There were some minor abrasions on the skin, he noted as he brushed off the dirt. Had she broken a bone? Torn a ligament? As gently as he could, he felt the joint. “Does this hurt?”

“A little, but it’s nothing. If it’s bad tomorrow, I’ll go have it checked.”

A knot twisted in his gut as he thought about watching her drive off again the way he’d done last year.

“Hold on,” he said, stalling. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee and we’ll get you some ice. There’s a late-night diner on the next corner. It’ll give you a chance to catch your breath before you leave.”

She seemed to be examining his hands as he held hers. Her wrists were tiny and he could easily encircle them with his fingers.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said quietly.

“It’s Trace.” He purposefully didn’t give his last name. She shouldn’t recognize it, and yet…

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Trace. I’m Charlotte.” She lifted her lashes, the turquoise blue of her eyes meeting his.

And after a moment between heartbeats that seemed to stretch forever, she agreed to have coffee with him.

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in a booth, staring at a plate of stale cake doughnuts they hadn’t ordered.

“I’ll bring you that ice in a minute, hon,” their waitress said, heading back to the counter.

Charlotte looked at the doughnuts then raised her eyebrows quizzically.

Trace shrugged. “When you come in late like this, they bring out any extras to get rid of them. They’re not bad if you dunk them.”

“I don’t eat carbs at night.”

That was right. He’d forgotten. “Suit yourself.”

He added cream to his coffee and stirred it around with his finger. Then he broke a doughnut in half, dipped it and took a bite.

When he glanced up, Charlotte was looking at him, a mixture of amusement and disgust on her face. “What?”

“Ever heard of a spoon before? It’s an eating utensil first used by ancient Egyptians, originally