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But the Hunger he felt for Caro exceeded anything he’d ever felt as a human, assuming he accurately remembered his human days. Instead of centering heavily in his groin, it filled his entire body with throbbing need that was impossible to ignore. If he didn’t battle it down, eventually it would become so consuming that he wouldn’t hear or feel anything else but the need raging in him.

He couldn’t let it get that far.

“Can you roll up the windows?” Caro asked. “I’m cold.”

“No.” But then he relented, figuring that the wind coming in her side was probably blowing more of her scent toward him. So he hit the button and closed her side of the car, but left his own window open to beat the aroma back. It worked. Somewhat.

As she directed him toward her place, he fought internally with Jude and himself. Jude was a relatively young vampire. Perhaps his line in the sand came from lack of experience. Damien, thousands of years older, had learned ways to control his interactions with humans that didn’t leave them “addicted.” He hated that word, actually.

There were plenty of delights that could be shared by vampires and humans that left both able to walk away. He knew that for a fact.

So why shouldn’t he indulge just a bit?

But even as the dark side of his nature tried to persuade him, the better side responded. Because she was Jude’s client, because he was Jude’s guest here. Rules of hospitality and all that.

Behave yourself, Damien. And while behaving himself hadn’t been difficult in a long, long time, the fact was that having lived the past several months on the canned blood Jude purchased, he was Hungrier than ever for the taste of warm, fresh food.

That was one carefully managed indulgence that he was not entirely used to doing without.

He was grinding his teeth in frustration by the time they reached Caro’s apartment building. He’d have loved to just dump her outside, but her admitted fear, and the sense he had of the thing around her, prevented him from doing so.

Whatever his personal problems, he had to do what he could to protect her...a protection that would be limited by dawn’s arrival.

The thought frustrated him even more, mainly because he was sure, absolutely sure, that he had encountered this energy before. This thing that was tailing her. And if he didn’t have entirely too many years of memories stacked up between him and it, he’d probably identify it quickly.

Sometimes he truly felt the weight of his years, and it never made him happy.

* * *

Caro couldn’t figure out what she was supposed to do now. Her apartment was empty—she’d checked it out—and Damien’s contribution to the entire process was to stand in her living room and close his eyes. She was surprised he didn’t follow the procedure she had, that any cop would.

But then she’d already figured out he wasn’t anything like a cop. So how could he be a private investigator?

Regardless, she guessed he was testing the place with the sense he’d used at the victims’ house: smell. Or something else. Watching him stand like a statue only gave her the opportunity to feel that wakening desire again. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t remember if she had ever been so sexually drawn to a man. In fact, she was almost certain she’d never been.

In self-defense, she closed her eyes, too, reaching out with her sixth sense, and she felt that darkness watching her. An invisible force, an almost nonexistent thing that nonetheless had the power to frighten her.

Why had it fixed on her? And why wouldn’t it go away? Using barely remembered skills, she tried to push it back, but it hardly withdrew at all.

For the first time in her life, she truly wished she had listened better to her grandmother.

Then she froze as she felt a whisper of movement in front of her. Snapping her eyes open, she found Damien standing in front of her, not six inches away.

What the hell?

He smiled, a very attractive smile, and despite herself she felt her heart accelerate with eager anticipation. Her mind started throwing up objections, but her body instantly reached the precipice of breathless anticipation and hope. It wanted his touches, and it wasn’t listening to reason. Just like when she’d been young and stupid.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.

Horse crap, her brain responded. She knew perfectly well she was no beauty. Passable, maybe, with even features, healthy skin and bright eyes. A little too plump for fashion, but that was the way she was built. When she put on her utility belt, she was convinced she looked dumpy.

But she’d heard the line before—the first line on the path to seduction. It had been a long time since she’d fallen for it.

She wanted to stiffen, to draw back to safety, but it was as if her feet were cemented to the floor.

“Lovely,” he said softly, and reached out to touch a strand of her dark hair.

He was touching her? She hardly knew him. Her brain shrieked warnings as her body tried to purr.

Then his hand trailed down until it brushed over her breast. Silken waves of heat rolled through her and she realized she was in serious danger. Not from him but from herself.

Because it would be so easy to give in.

“Just let me...” He started to lean toward her. She felt her mouth lifting to welcome him as his hand closed over her breast.

With his other hand, he captured her wrists behind her back, arching her in a way that made her breasts more prominent. Looking into his darkening eyes, eyes that no longer appeared golden, she felt herself sinking into the miasma of longing and desire that wanted to melt her every muscle. All she wanted was to let this happen.

Then sanity hit her with a snap. His eyes were black now? He was making a pass that she wouldn’t have tolerated from anyone, and she was letting him?

She stepped into him with all the training she had, all the strength she possessed, and yanked her wrists free. Then she grabbed his arm to twist it behind him, shoving upward with her other hand to his chin to give him a brain-rattling knock to reawaken his senses.

Who did he think he was?

But before her hand connected, before her grip on his arm tightened, he was gone.

Just like that.

Across the room from her, slightly crouched. And she had not seen him move. Suddenly unnerved, she yanked her pistol from the belt holster, thumbed the safety and aimed at him.

She stared at him, stared at his strange aura, tried to take in what had just happened.

The question burst from her. “Just what the hell are you?”

Chapter 3

He’d almost had her. He was sure of it. Very few could resist the Voice or the seduction when a vampire put his mind to it. But this one had. Somehow. And she’d gone at him in a way that had made him make the biggest mistake possible: he’d jumped away too fast.

God, where had his mind gone? Of course, he knew. It had gone to that sweetest and most demanding of places where the object of his Hunger had overruled him. He had been near the brink of madness with desire.

But after all these centuries it was embarrassing to have to question himself. Had Hunger truly pushed him into the stupidest thing he could have done?

Evidently so. And now he had to think fast because she was asking a question he should not truthfully answer, and because he’d embarrassed Jude. If this woman talked to her detective friend about this, Jude would be furious and have a lot of explaining to do.

It was not very courteous of him as a guest to have put Jude in this position. He had to fix this and fix it fast so that Jude wouldn’t have to leave town to protect his identity, so that his wife, Terri, who was a medical examiner, wouldn’t be forced to give up her job....