Dead Perfect

She was never far from his thoughts. Even now, he could hear the sound of her laughter in the back of his mind. It wasn’t smart to fall in love with a mortal woman, nor was it wise to pursue any kind of relationship. In his experience, mortals could not be trusted. He knew of several vampires, both men and women, who had foolishly fallen in love. In every case, once they had revealed the truth, they had been deserted or destroyed. Ronan had no desire to end his existence. And no desire to continue on without Shannah. It was quite a dilemma and one for which he had no clear solution.

Fortunately, he still had time to decide what to do about Shannah. For now, he wanted to hold her in his arms. The thought was no sooner born than he was back at the hotel, knocking on her door.

Curled up in the cozy chair in the bedroom, Shannah glanced at her watch, wondering where Ronan had gone. He had told her he would come back and tell her good night, but it was almost morning.

She yawned, and yawned again, hoping he would return soon because she didn’t think she could stay awake much longer.

A soft knock at the door unleashed a million butterflies in her stomach. She took a deep breath and then another as she made her way into the living room and opened the door.

He didn’t say anything, just stepped into the room, kicked the door closed with his heel, drew her into his arms, and kissed her.

As always, she melted into him, her every thought, her every desire focused on Ronan, only Ronan. Desire flowed through her, warm and honey-sweet. Maybe tonight, she thought, maybe tonight he would carry her to bed and make love to her. She knew he wanted her. She could taste it in his kiss, feel it in the way his body quivered against hers.

She was breathless when he broke the kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for hours,” he said, his voice husky. “I keep telling myself that you’re far too young for me, that I’ll bring you nothing but misery, but I can’t leave you alone.”

He ran his knuckles lightly over her cheek. “I can’t stay away.”

She stared up at him, dazed by his kiss, mesmerized by the heat in his eyes. “I don’t want you to stay away. And I’m not too young.”

“Then I’m too old for you.”

She shook her head, her mind still reeling from the force of his declaration. “How old are you?

Thirty? Thirty-five? That’s not old.”

He laughed softly. “I’m older than you are in more ways than just years, Shannah, love.”

“I don’t care. I want you.”

“I know.” His hand stroked her hair. “I know.”

Lowering his head, he kissed her again.

Wanting more than kisses, Shannah backed slowly toward the sofa. She dropped down on the cushions and he followed her, never taking his mouth from hers. He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up and down her thigh, his thumb caressing the soft curve of her breast.

She shivered at his touch, and pressed herself wantonly against him. “Make love to me,” she whispered.

“Have you ever been with a man before?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“What difference does that make?”

“Have you?”

“Of course. I’m twenty-four.”

“Ah, Shannah, why don’t I believe you?”

She pouted prettily. “I’m dying, Ronan. Don’t let me die a virgin.”

“You’re not dying, love. I won’t let you.”

“You can’t stop it.” Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “No one can. Even being out in the sun is starting to bother me now…”

“What do you mean?” he asked sharply.

“It hurts my eyes. Lately, I can’t go outside during the day without wearing sunglasses.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Several weeks now. I first noticed it when I went to the doctor. It was right after I moved in with you. I should have mentioned it to him, I guess. Do you think it means I’m…that I’m getting worse?”

He grunted softly. Her sensitivity to the sun was more likely a side effect from his blood than any symptom of her illness, but he couldn’t tell her that.

“Shannah.” Sitting beside her, he drew her into his arms. “I promise you, you will not die for a long, long time.”

She smiled faintly. “I almost believe you.”

“Believe it.”

“Have some sort of secret voodoo magic, do you?” she asked, forcing a smile. “Some kind of powerful mojo that will let me run faster than a speeding bullet and leap tall buildings in a single bound?”

“Something like that.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll take care of you, love. Everything will be all right.”

Feeling suddenly weary, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Everything will be all right,”

she murmured. “I don’t know why I believe you, but I do.”

With a sigh, he eased her onto his lap, content to hold her and stroke her hair until he sensed the coming of dawn’s first light.

Carrying her to bed, he tucked her in, then kissed her cheek.

She would make a beautiful vampire, he mused, gazing down at her. Perhaps he would discuss the possibility with her when they returned home.

Thursday night, Shannah sat at a table near the front of the bookstore. This store was bigger than the others had been and she felt like she really was somebody as she sat amid a mountain of books, smiling and signing autographs. Ronan stood behind her. No doubt people thought he was her bodyguard, the way he stood there, hardly moving, hardly blinking.

Shannah smiled as a pretty blonde handed her a book. “Who should I make this out to?”

“Melanie, please.” The girl fidgeted with her handbag, then blurted, “Miss Black, I just have to tell you how much it means to me to meet you. When my mother got so sick that she couldn’t read anymore, my sisters and I took turns reading your books to her. She loved them so much.”

“Thank you for sharing that,” Shannah said, touched by the woman’s words. She glanced back at Ronan, wondering if he’d heard what the woman had to say. Did he think it was as wonderful as she did that his stories influenced people’s lives in such heartfelt ways?

Shannah had been signing for about forty-five minutes when there was a brief lull. Glancing around, she thought she saw Jim lurking nearby, but that was ridiculous. It was one thing for him to follow her from one bookstore to another in Los Angeles, and quite another to think he had followed her all the way to New York City. She frowned when she saw the newspaper reporter, Carl Overstreet, in the next aisle.