Everlasting Desire (Everlasting 2)

When she started to speak, he held up his hand, silencing her. He didn’t want conversation. Didn’t want anything from her but relief from the twin talons of thirst and desire that he couldn’t satisfy in Megan’s arms.

Frightened and confused, Megan sat up in bed, the blankets tucked under her arms. What had just happened? Had it all been a dream? Of course, she thought, what else could it have been? And yet it had seemed so real. Her skin still tingled from the memory of his touch.

Rising, she padded into the bathroom and turned on the light, then stood in front of the mirror, turning her head from side to side. There! Were those bite marks on her neck?

She ran her fingers over the bites. They were definitely real. And strangely hot to the touch, as if she had a fever. Spider bites? Of course. She shook her head. Vampires, indeed!

After filling a paper cup with water, she took two aspirin and went back to bed. It was hours until dawn.

In the clear light of day, it was easy to convince herself it had been nothing but some weird dream. Besides, the proof was right in front of her eyes. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she ran her fingertips over her neck, relieved to find that the bite marks were gone.

After taking a quick shower, she went downstairs to fix something to eat. Shirl, of course, had already left for work and, as usual, she had left her dirty dishes in the sink, but that was all right. They had an agreement. Megan did the dishes, dusted, vacuumed, and did the shopping. Shirl did the laundry, watered the plants, and took out the trash. They took turns cooking dinner.

With several hours to kill, Megan slipped a DVD into the player, then curled up on the sofa, planning to lose herself in the movie Shirl had rented the night before.

She grimaced when she realized it wasn’t the love story she had been expecting but a horror movie. She should have known. Shirl had a thing for vampires, werewolves, and other creepy things that went bump in the night. Megan had a feeling that, deep down, Shirl hoped vampires really existed.

In spite of herself, Megan soon found herself caught up in the story of a young vampire who was in love with a mortal woman. Of course, it ended badly, but then, how else could it end?

When the movie was over, she sat back with a shake of her head. It hadn’t been a bad story, but what woman in her right mind would fall in love with a vampire, if such things actually existed, and let him drink her blood?

And even as the thought crossed her mind, she lifted a hand to her neck as the memory of the last night’s dream rose, unbidden, in her mind. She knew it had only been a dream but now, with the memory of the movie she had just seen fresh in her mind, she couldn’t help thinking how vampire-like her dream had been, with Rhys bending over her, his teeth grazing her throat….

“Stop that right now, Megan! It was just a dream, that’s all. There’s no such thing as vampires!”

After switching off the TV, she went into the kitchen. Shirl was doing a night shoot, so she wouldn’t be home until late. Megan ate soup and a toasted cheese sandwich for dinner, then went into her bedroom to get ready for work.

Megan rang up her fifth sale of the evening. They had been busy all right, thank goodness. At home, she had done a fair job of keeping thoughts of Rhys Costain at bay, but the minute she had walked into Shore’s, he was all she could think about. She had hoped to distract herself with work, but everything reminded her of Rhys.

She was straightening one of the shelves when a sudden ripple in the air sent a shiver down her spine. Lifting a hand to her neck, she went suddenly still. He was here. She knew it. Hardly daring to believe, she glanced over her shoulder. And he was there, as tall and handsome as she remembered. All her foolish imaginings and ridiculous fears took flight as he glided toward her. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Everything about him appealed to her—the red silk shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, the black slacks that emphasized his long legs, the dark blond of his hair. His eyes, so brown they were almost black.

“Megan.” As he murmured her name, he offered her a single blood-red rose.

She looked up at him. Every female on the planet knew a single red rose meant “I love you.” Had that been his intent, or was he just partial to red roses?

“It’s beautiful.”

His gaze moved over her face. “Your beauty puts it to shame.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“For what?”

“For acting like a jealous fool.”

“I think we both acted like a couple of idiots,” Megan allowed. “Let’s just forget it, shall we?”

“Would you like to go out for a drink after work?”

“Yes, very much.”

“I’ll see you then,” he said, and taking her hand in his, he kissed her palm.

His lips were cool against her skin, yet they sent a shaft of heat straight to the core of her being.

“Till then,” he murmured.

Too stunned to reply, Megan could only nod. Oh Lord, the effect that man had on her senses was almost hypnotic.

He was waiting by the back door when she got off work. “Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t care.” She had been counting the hours until this moment, when she would see him again, hear his voice. Whatever magic he possessed, she was helpless to resist it. Nor did she want to. Their separation, though brief, had made her realize she never wanted to be without him again.

He walked her to his car, opened the passenger side door, then went around to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel. She had never known a man who moved with such innate power, or such effortless grace.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“How would you feel about going to my place?”

“The club?”

“No. My apartment.”

Her common sense told her it probably wasn’t a good idea to go to a man’s apartment, alone, at two in the morning, but her curiosity about seeing where he lived kicked her common sense under the rug. Smiling, she said, “Let’s go.”

In minutes, they were on the 101 Freeway heading toward Hollywood. Forty minutes later he pulled into the driveway of a tall, glass-fronted building.

“You live here?” she asked, staring out the window.

He nodded. “On the top floor.”

Her heart was racing a mile a minute when he pulled into a space marked PRIVATE in the underground garage.

After opening the car door, he took her by the hand. Her heels echoed loudly off the cement floor as he led her to an iron-barred door. He unlocked it and ushered her inside. Overhead lights came on when she crossed the threshold.