the rings had for William. I looked over at the body next to mine. My suitor seemed to be asleep, or at least in a deep trance. Just as they do in fairy tales, I kissed my sleeping prince, gently biting his lower lip. I pulled the blanket away, running my tongue across his chest, savoring the cool, smooth skin. I found his nipple and bit it to see if I could wake the dead.
Instantly, I felt his senses alight, and once again I experienced the merging of our desire. I was hungry and impatient, my teeth suddenly set in a clench. My awareness was instantaneous to his, and quickly I was rolled underneath him as he slid into me. I would have howled at the sun had William not kissed me. My body was inexplicably ravenous and I bit down on William’s lip, impatient for something I could not name. Despite my provocation, he did not drink from me.
After we’d finished making love, he wordlessly left our bed, put on a robe and walked out of the room. When he returned, he was carrying a tray with a glass of juice and whole-grain toast.
“Wow, a bed and food,” I said. “You were certainly confident your campaign to kidnap me would be successful.”
William looked mildly rebuked. “I was hoping,” he said. “I figured I could always throw the food away.”
“Yes, but the bed, that took some work,” I said, sitting up to sip the juice. “What would you have done with the bed, if I’d refused?”
“I would have worked to get you in it, of course,” he said, coming to sit next to me. “Eventually I would have worn you down.”
I held up my hand and wiggled my finger with the ring. “You have a good memory,” I said. “Usually, though, people ask before becoming engaged.”
William took my hand, and stared at the rings. “My mother had a set very similar to these. When I saw you admiring the trio at the gallery, I knew I had to buy them for you.”
“Are we married?” I asked, unsure if vampire courting rituals skipped some of the crucial steps humans found necessary. He shook his head as he squeezed my hand.
“That would be a little fast, darlin, even for a vampire. Think of it more as a set of commitment rings,” he said. “A sign that we’re together.”
“Are we bound to each other?”
“No, I didn’t drink enough of your blood, and you have not drunk from me, but after last night I would say that we are unquestionably committed.”
I was more than fine with that, but I wondered how people would react when I appeared with what looked to be a set of wedding bands on my finger, with nary a mention of a man in my life.
“These are beautiful, but I think we need to ease into my wearing them in public; at least until the campaign is finished. I don’t want to draw attention to myself, especially from JP. Please don’t mistake me; I do want to wear them. But I can’t show up overnight with three rings on my finger.”
I was being scrutinized, but eventually the former Resistance fighter saw the elegance of my strategy.
“You’re right,” he said. “When you get home, take off two of the rings and leave the single plain copper band. That doesn’t look like it has any significance and people won’t notice.” It was good advice from someone who’d managed to blend in for decades.
I would have been happy to sit in bed and chat all day about rings and commitment, but all of the discussion of JP had given me an uneasy feeling. I scanned the room for my purse, realizing that I hadn’t heard my phone ring. I also had no idea what time it was. I assumed it was late, given what time we’d left Hearst Castle and because the sunshades had been drawn on the skylights in the bedroom.
“Where is my purse?” I asked. “I need my phone.”
William walked over to one of the leather chairs and retrieved my purse. I dove in immediately looking for my iPhone. The ringer was off. “Did you turn off the ringer?”
“We didn’t get home until dawn, I thought it better to let you sleep.”
“Very sweet of you, but campaign managers have to hear their phone ring.”
I would have said more, but my eyes fell upon the clock, which read 11 am, and the number 50 that appeared next to the telephone icon on