could sense it, smell it, feel it, taste it. Tonight, she would be his for the taking. She had banished whatever fears and doubts had troubled her and now she was ripe, like a peach ready for the picking.
She leaned across the seat and rained kisses on his cheek, his neck, his shoulder, and each touch was like a ray of sunlight burning his skin. "I love you."
Three words, spoken so softly a mere mortal would not have heard them. But they seared his heart, his soul. He let out a deep breath. She was his now, his for the taking.
And in that instant, he knew he could not defile her, knew he could not take her to his bed as if she meant no more to him than the other women he had used to satisfy the hungers of the flesh.
He was shaking with barely controlled need when they reached her apartment. He got out of the car and took a deep breath, then went to her side and opened the door.
She smiled up at him, a beautiful, sensual smile, as he took her hand and helped her out of the car.
He followed her up the stairs, his whole body quivering, every sense attuned to the woman before him, to the gentle sway of her hips, the curve of a shapely calf.
He unlocked the door, but didn't follow her inside.
Marisa frowned at him. "Aren't you coming in?"
Hands clenched at his sides, he shook his head.
"But I thought - "
"Not tonight," he said, his voice gruff. And then, calling on the strength of will he had developed over two hundred years, he kissed her good night.
"Domani, Marisa," he promised, and left her there, alone and untouched.
Domani... tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-seven
"I have to go to my boss's house for New Year's Eve," Marisa said. She tucked her legs under her and sipped her wine. "Would you come with me?"
Grigori lifted one brow. "Do you think that would be wise?"
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "I should think that would be obvious."
"Please come."
"If you wish. What should I wear?"
"Suit and tie are de rigueur at these things."
"I shall be honored to escort the most beautiful of women."
"Flatterer."
"I only speak the truth."
They were sitting on the sofa in her apartment, sharing a glass of wine. Save for a quick kiss, he had not touched her since his arrival two hours earlier. They had watched an old John Wayne movie on TV, and he had been aware of her amusement at doing something so mundane with a man who was a vampyre. He had not meant to probe her mind, but when she sat so close, when her thoughts were centered on him, it was difficult to resist. He had known her almost two months, he mused, and though she professed to love him, there was a part of her that still thought of him as something less than human. She found it amazing that he walked in the park, read books, watched television, went to the movies, visited museums. She seemed to think his life should consist of little more than haunting the shadows wrapped in a long black cape, and frightening unwary mortals.
He took a deep breath, willing himself to be patient, to give her time. It wasn't easy, accepting something one had always thought impossible.
She was about to pour another glass of wine when the doorbell rang.
"Geez, I wonder who that is?" Marisa muttered. "It's almost eleven."
"Do you want me to get it?"
"If you don't mind."
He brushed his hand across her cheek as he stood up, and she felt a tingle of desire sweep through her. Tall, dark and handsome, she thought. He fit the description to a T. She watched him walk away, thinking again that she had never known anyone who moved the way he did.
Grigori crossed the floor, aware of Marisa's gaze on his back. He could feel the desire radiating from her. He was smiling when he opened the door. And then he frowned.
"It's Ramsey," he called over his shoulder.
"Tell him to come in."
Grigori stepped back. "A little late to be calling, isn't it, Ramsey?"
"You're here."
With a shrug, Grigori stepped back. "Come on in."
Edward stepped into the entryway, and Grigori closed the door. As soon as the vampire turned his back, Edward tackled him. Startled, Grigori hit the floor, face down. Moving quickly, Edward looped a thick silver chain around the vampire's neck and pulled it tight. There was an ugly hissing sound as the silver burned through preternatural flesh.
With