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Rafe leaned forward, his hands clenched. “You didn't accept?”

I had his full attention now. “A girl has to date someone,” I said flippantly.

In a move faster than my eyes could follow, he was towering over me. “We talked about this before.”

I stared up at him. The man could be scary as hell when he wanted to.

“I want your promise,” he said. “Now, tonight, that you won't see him again.”

“I can't help it if he shows up where I am. I mean, what am I supposed to do if he comes into my store? Run away?”

“That's a good start.”

“Like I could outrun a Were-tiger,” I muttered drily.

Raphael gazed down at me, his expression softening. “Forgive me,” he said, resuming his seat. “It's just that I'm worried about you.”

“Worried? About me? Why?”

He hesitated, as though debating whether to tell me the hard truth or sugarcoat it with a lie. The truth won out. “You're important to me,” he said slowly, “and Cagin knows it. And until I know what side he's on, I'd rather you stayed away from him.”

I stared at Raphael, a sudden coldness sweeping through me. He didn't have to spell it out for me. Cagin and Raphael were enemies, that much was obvious. No doubt I would make an excellent hostage for the Werewolves. Even more frightening was the thought that, even though Raphael seemed fond of me, we hadn't known each other very long. There was no bond between us, no reason to think he would spill any secrets or turn traitor if my life was threatened.

Leaving Oak Hollow was starting to sound better and better.

Raphael shook his head. “It's too late for you to leave.”

“Stop that!”

He lifted one brow. “Stop what?”

“Reading my mind. It's very annoying.”

He laughed softly. “I'm sure it is.”

“How do you do it, anyway? Are you psychic on top of everything else?”

“In a way, although I have to admit, most people aren't as easy to read as you are.”

“And what makes me so easy to read?” I asked irritably.

He dragged his hand over his jaw, his expression thoughtful. “I'm not sure, but I've got a theory.”

“Would you like to share it with me?”

“You won't like it.”

I was sure of that.

“Do you believe in soul mates?” he asked. “One woman made for one man, that sort of thing?”

Feeling skeptical, I asked, “Do you believe in that sort of thing?”

He didn't move, but he suddenly seemed closer. “I never used to, until I met you.”

A romantic Vampire. Just what I needed. “And what makes me so different from anyone else?”

“Come on, Kathy, I know you feel it, too, that connection between us. It was there the first night I walked into your store.”

I wanted to contradict him, but I couldn't. I remembered all too clearly the night I had been in the back room at the bookstore. I had known the minute Raphael had entered the building. I'd had no explanation for it at the time, and while I wasn't sure I believed that we had been made for each other, we did seem to have some kind of extraordinary awareness of one another.

Logic made me shake my head in denial. He was sixty-two years older than I was, and a Vampire to boot. Unless fate was playing a really bad joke, there was no way on Earth that Raphael and I could be soul mates, or any other kind of mates, for that matter. And yet, even now, the attraction between us crackled like a live wire.

“We're supposed to be friends,” I said, my voice little more than a husky whisper. “Just friends. Remember?”

He nodded slowly, his gaze locked on mine. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he took one of my hands in his.

“I remember,” he said, his voice as rough around the edges as mine had been. “But I don't think it's possible.”

The flames in the hearth seemed to burn brighter, hotter. It felt like the room was closing in on me as I tried to draw my gaze away from Raphael's and failed. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Whatever it is that you're doing.”

“Honey, I'm not doing anything.”

“I don't believe you.” It had to be some kind of Vampire magic. I mean, it just had to be. How could I feel this way about a Vampire, even if he was the best looking guy I had ever seen? I shook my head. “This…whatever it is I'm feeling, I don't believe it's real. It can't be real.”

“How can I convince you?”

“I don't know.” I pulled my hand from his and made a shooing motion. “For starters, you can give me some space.”

“Whatever you want.” Rising, he backed up several paces, putting some distance between us.

It didn't help. My skin felt too tight; my blood felt like it was on fire. It was hard to think, hard to remember to breathe.

“I need to go to the restroom,” I said, and then wondered if Vampires had the same needs as humans. After all, they didn't eat….

The look in his eyes told me he knew this for the ploy it was.

Rising, I forced myself to walk sedately out of the room. I stared at the closed door at the end of the hall. Why was it locked? What was he hiding in there? The image of a coffin quickly sprang to mind, something burnished and bronze with white satin lining. Shaking off the morbid mental imagery, I went into the bathroom, closed the door, and turned the lock.

Standing in front of the sink, I soaked a washcloth in cold water and pressed it against my burning cheeks, hoping it would cool me off, although I doubted even a dip in the Arctic Ocean could put out the fire Raphael had ignited. What was I going to do about him?

Sitting on the edge of the oval-shaped tub, I glanced at my surroundings. There were no windows in this room, either, and no mirrors. I noted absently that he had good taste, and I wondered if he had decorated the house himself or had it done by a professional decorator. The sink top was black marble veined with gold; the basin was white, the fixtures antique brass. The deep red towels hanging from the towel bar made a bold statement against the white walls. The stall shower was easily large enough for two. I quickly shook off the all-too-erotic image of the two of us in that shower, our bodies pressed together in a soapy, steamy embrace.

I ran a hand through my hair, then glanced at my watch. I couldn't stay in here forever. Sooner or later, I would have to go out and face him.

I jumped when someone knocked on the door. It could only be Raphael.

“You okay in there?” he asked.


Tags: Amanda Ashley Children of The Night Vampires