It was the oddest compliment she had ever received but, for all that, Kay felt a faint flush creep up her neck. Lowering her gaze, she buttered the roll and took a bite.
“You’re blushing,” Gideon said. “Why?”
“Why do you think?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”
At least he wasn’t reading her mind. She shook her head, and then she grinned. “No one’s ever called me a feast before. It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”
His gaze moved over her, lingering on her lips, the pulse in her throat. “You are indeed a feast in every way, Kiya Marie Alissano.”
Kay was searching for a reply when her dinner came.
Gideon sat back, leaving her to enjoy her meal in silence. She had ordered prime rib—rare and big enough for two—a baked potato, broccoli, and a Coke. He eyed the juice pooled beneath the meat. The color made his mouth water.
She ate with gusto. It was one of the things he liked best about her.
Kay heaved a sigh when she pushed the plate away.
“No seconds tonight?” he asked, grinning.
“Not tonight. I’m stuffed.” And then, seeing the dessert cart, she said, “But I think I might have just enough room for a little chocolate mousse.”
Noticing that Kay was growing increasingly more withdrawn as they neared their destination, Gideon pulled off the highway. “Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“Are you sure?”
“I just don’t want to go home, that’s all. I still have a few months of freedom left.” It surprised her to find that it wasn’t the compound she thought of when she spoke of home, but her apartment back in Custer. Would she ever see it again?
“I thought we agreed that staying with your father was the safest thing to do.”
“I know,” she said glumly.
“Maybe we could spend a few days somewhere close by,” he suggested.
“I’d like that.” A sudden smile lit her face. “Bondurant isn’t far.”
“What’s there?”
“Not much. It’s just a small community named for the man who established a ranch in Hoback Canyon early in the 1900s. Later, he built a store and a post office. It’s a pretty place. Probably not more than a hundred people live there year-round.”
“Okay, Bondurant it is.”
Kay leaned back against the seat. She loved Bondurant. In years past, she had attended the annual barbeques held in June, and Heritage Days in August. Best of all, the Gros Ventre Wilderness area was close by; remote and relatively unknown, it was one of her favorite places to hunt, second only to the Black Hills.
They reached the town just after midnight. All the houses and businesses were dark save for a quaint bed-and-breakfast at the south end of town. A single light burned in one of the downstairs windows; a small neon sign indicated a vacancy.
Gideon parked the car in the driveway, pulled their suitcases from the trunk, and followed Kay up the steps. A handwritten sign on the front door invited them in.
Gideon hesitated, wondering if a welcome sign from the owners of the house would be invitation enough to allow him inside. He opened the door for Kay, felt a faint shimmer of subdued power when he stepped warily across the threshold.
Inside, he glanced around. A small office was located to the left of the stairway. It was empty. “Nobody here.”
“Look.” Kay pointed to a wooden sign sitting on a small table. “It says to take the key and check in tomorrow.”
“Awfully trusting, aren’t they?”
“Well, it’s a small town. Not much to steal, I guess.”
“Good thing I’m just a vampire and not a thief or a mass murderer,” Gideon muttered.
With a shake of her head, Kay plucked the key from the table and started up the stairs.
Gideon trailed behind her, wondering if the owners would be as trusting if they knew a werewolf pack made its home a few miles away.
The room, decorated with antique oak furniture, was large and airy. A king-sized bed occupied a place between two windows that offered views of the distant mountains. Crisp white lace curtains hung at the windows, a wedding ring quilt covered the bed. A Bible and a Wyoming guidebook sat side by side on the four-drawer dresser.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Kay remarked.
Nodding, Gideon dropped their suitcases on the floor. “Are you tired?”
“No, why?”
“Well, we’ve got a few hours until dawn. I thought maybe we’d go for a walk.”
“I know just the place,” Kay said. “Just give me a minute to change my clothes and my shoes.”
Gideon sat on the end of the bed, his desire quickening while he watched Kay undress. Suddenly, the thought of going for a walk wasn’t as appealing as it had been. Scooting back against the headboard, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, afraid that if he took her in his arms here and now, he would never be able to let her go.
“Are you ready?”
He opened his eyes to see Kay—clad in jeans, sweater, and tennis shoes—standing beside the bed.
She lifted an inquisitive brow. “I thought you wanted to go for a walk.”
“Right.”
“The river isn’t far,” Kay said. “And it’s beautiful at night.”
Hand in hand, they left the house and made their way toward the river. He heard the hushed sound of slowly moving water before he saw the river. As Kay had said, it was beautiful. By moonlight, the river looked almost otherworldly as it meandered between low hills covered with pine trees and the brush-covered riverbank.
“Is it true vampires don’t change?” Kay asked after a time. “I mean, do they really stay the same as they were when they were turned?”
Gideon nodded. “Forever the same,” he murmured, and couldn’t hide the slight note of wistfulness in his voice.
“Hmm.” She couldn’t imagine what that would be like. Not growing old and sick would be nice, and yet change, whether good or bad, was a part of life. She studied him surreptitiously while they walked, admiring his broad shoulders, the way his jeans clung to his backside, the way the moon’s light bathed his long black hair with silver. Lucky for Gideon, that he had been turned while he was still young and virile, a man in the prime of his life, she mused. And lucky for her, too.
“Hmm, what?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. I was just … nothing.”
He slid a glance at her, then stooped and picked up a rock. He skipped it across the water, then burst out laughing.