closed her eyes.
And popped them open again. “So the way I see it, April and June must have done something really terrible to get him so upset.”
“Yep,” Gerry said. “But he wouldn’t talk about it, and neither would my aunts.” He chuckled, his chest vibrating against her cheek. “Sorry, honey, but I dealt with all this by the time I was twelve. Sometime after my mom died, Arthur stopped speaking to April and June, and they did their best to poison my mind against him. I decided long ago it was their problem, not mine.”
He was right, she supposed with a long sigh. She turned her head and laid her forehead against his chest, inhaling deeply.
Big mistake!
Desire—hot, heady, and powerful—shot through her. She shuddered again, and the vampire allure she’d kept clamped down broke free, swirling unchecked.
She curled her hands into fists and reeled the allure back inside. “No,” she said. “This isn’t supposed to happen yet.”
Her body disagreed. Her nipples tingled, and her fangs quivered expectantly; in fact, she was practically drooling, and . . .
“Nothing has happened,” Gerry said. He took her by the shoulders and moved her gently away. “Maybe that’s as it should be.”
He
was thinking of refusing
her
?
* * *
It about killed him, but he stepped back from Mirabel and dropped his arms to his sides.
She turned away. Judging by the clenched fists and the flicker in her cheek, she was upset. Hell, so was he, shaking like a scared, horny teenager with his first girlfriend.He took a few steps toward her again, aching with the effort to hold himself in check. “Mirabel, I—”
She rounded on him, glowering. “You think I was sleeping with your grandfather, right? I can see why that might be a turnoff. Well, I wasn’t. We were just friends.”
She shivered, sucking in a breath. Her nipples jutted inside her tank top, but when she caught him staring, she whirled away once more. She went to the window and parted the curtains to look out, but she quickly closed them again. Who did she think might be watching?
“No, but you might be sleeping with someone else.” His voice sounded harsh and way too judgmental, but he had to say it. “I don’t cheat, and I don’t sleep with cheaters.”
“Neither do I.” She ran her hands down her thighs, stopped abruptly, and took another quivery breath. “I don’t have a boyfriend right now.”
Sternly, he quelled his rising hope. “What is it, then? A disease?”
She shook her head.
“A vow of celibacy? A bet?”
“No, no!” She choked on a giggle. “It isn’t a good time for a new boyfriend, okay? But I really like you.” She retreated behind the couch.
He’d prowled after her like a lusty tomcat without even realizing it. He halted. “I like you, too, Mirabel, but I don’t make a habit of sleeping with women I’ve just met.” Not that his current behavior supported that statement. He grasped the arm of the sofa to keep himself still. “I like to know who I’m getting involved with.”
Mirabel glared at him. “I don’t jump into bed with random men, either.” She was gripping the couch, too. “I evaluate them first.”
His suspicions surged. “For their assets?”
God, why did I say that?
If anything might drive her away . . . Her eyes rested appreciatively on the bulge in his jeans. Evidently, she thought he meant another kind of assets. Desire shook him so violently he swayed.
She giggled again. “No, silly. For their emotional stability.”
“Oh.” He blew out a breath. “I’m very stable.” Most of the time. Fortunately, he was still holding onto the couch, or he’d be all over her, and she’d never believe him.
“I’m not always right,” she said, “but you’re . . . Oh, you’re incredibly appealing.” She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “You’re
such
a turn on.”
I am?
She was killing him. He couldn’t resist any longer.
But he had to. “Still . . . nothing you’ve