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Gregori dried her slender body with a towel before waving a hand to clothe himself. Savannah was wandering through the house back to the kitchen, with only another of his shirts to cover her. Her bare skin showed marks that hadn’t been there before, and he followed her, cursing his own roughness. He had left his brand on her breast deliberately, the mark of his possession, but the faint smudges elsewhere needed to be healed.

Savannah laughed softly. “I don’t hurt anywhere, lifemate. I loved, it, and you know it.”

“I can make you love it without marking you,” he corrected.

She idly picked up a packet of papers and sifted through them, then dropped them onto the counter. “If you ever hurt me, Gregori, I promise you, I’ll tell you immediately.”

He sensed the return of her restlessness. “What is it?”

“Let’s do something, Gregori. Something that has nothing to do with the hunt. Something different. Something touristy.”

“The streets are flooded tonight,” he pointed out.

She shrugged. “I know. I was just looking at some pamphlets earlier, on all the tourist attractions here,” Savannah said nonchalantly.

Gregori looked up alertly at the carefully calculated disinterest in her voice. “Did any of them seem appealing to you?”

She shrugged again very casually. “Most of the more interesting ones are the day trips. Like the bayous. There’s one you can go on with someone who grew up in the bayou.” She shrugged again. “I like learning local history. I wouldn’t mind a tour of the bayou with someone who grew up there.”

“You have the brochure handy?” he asked.

“It isn’t important,” Savannah said with a little sigh. Tossing the packet of pamphlets onto the table, she picked up her hairbrush.

Gregori took it out of her hand. “If you want a proper tour of the bayou, Savannah, then we will go.”

“I like to do the tourist thing,” Savannah admitted with a slight smile. “It’s kind of fun to ask questions and learn new things.”

“I bet you are very good at it,” he answered her, slowly running the brush through the blue-black length of her hair. It crackled with a life of its own, refusing to be tamed. He gathered it into his hands just to feel how soft and silky it was. Over her shoulder, his pale gaze rested on the brochure she had put to one side. If Savannah wanted a tour, he would move heaven and earth to get her one. “We do not always go chasing after vampires and the mortal assassins plaguing our people,” he began diplomatically.

“I know. They turn up everywhere we go,” she agreed.

He tugged at a tangle in her glossy hair. “When you first proposed to come to New Orleans, we had hoped the society members would follow us and leave Aidan and his people in peace. Is that not what you wanted?”

“Not particularly,” she admitted with a flash of her blue eyes. “I was only trying to get you to come here. You know, classic honeymoon. Sweet young wife teaches wizened old grouch how to have fun. That sort of thing.”

“Wizened old grouch?” he echoed in astonishment. “The old part I can accept, even the grouch. But I am definitely not wizened.” In punishment he tugged her hair.

“Ow!” She swung around and glared indignantly at him. “ Wizenedsort of seemed to fit. You know, wizard, wizened.

Gregori crushed her hair to his face to hide the sudden emotion overwhelming him. The fragrance of flowers and fresh air surrounded him. So this was what he had sought all those long centuries. Fun. Belonging. Someone with whom to share laughter and teasing and to make even the difficult moments in life beautiful. She was so much a part of him, he couldn’t return to a barren existence again. He would never choose to stay in the world without her.

“Do you think I am too old, Savannah?” he asked softly, taking strands of her hair into his mouth. So soft. So much like silk but even better.

“Not old, Gregori,” she corrected gently. “Just old-fashioned. You have a tendency to believe women should always do as they’re told.”

He found himself laughing. “Not that you do.”

She tilted her head back, a not-so-subtle hint for him to resume brushing. “I wish you would understand that I can’t stand by and watch someone get hurt because of me.”

He sighed audibly and allowed several heartbeats to go by before replying. “I should never have taken you with me and placed you in such a position, ma chérie.For that I apologize.”

“I want to discuss this,” she insisted, clenching her fist.

He pushed aside the thin shirt, bent his head, and touched his mouth to her bare shoulder. The sensation was as intimate as sin. “There can be no discussion. We put this to rest last night. I will not do this, not even for you. You must understand who I am. You are in me, as I am in you. You know how I feel. I can do no other than to protect you. That is who I am.”

“Do you have to be so inflexible about this, Gregori?” Savannah complained. But he was right; she already knew the answer. It was impossible to be in his head and not feel his implacable resolve.

“The storm is passing over us. Do you want to go to the bayou this night?” he asked softly, separating her hair deftly and beginning to weave it into a thick braid.

She loved the feel of his hands in her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp, tugging so gently on the thick length of braid. She reached up to place a palm over her bare shoulder, the exact spot where his lips had touched her. “I would love to go to the bayou with you.”

He smiled at her, his silver eyes molten mercury. “We can observe wildlife for a change. No vampires.”

“No weird society types,” she added.

“No mortals in need of rescuing,” Gregori said with intense satisfaction. “Get dressed.”

“You’re always taking my clothes off, then telling me to get dressed again,” Savannah complained with her infuriating smile, that little sexy one that drove him mad.

He turned her around to face him, caught the front of her shirt, and drew the gaping edges together to cover her tempting body. “You cannot expect me to dress you myself, do you?” he asked, leaning down to brush her lips with his. She actually felt her heart jump in response. Or maybe it was his heart. It was nearly impossible to tell the difference anymore.

It took Savannah mere moments to be ready. Hand in hand, they walked into the courtyard. The rain was now no more than mist, but the water was still inches deep on the tiles. Gregori brought her hand to his mouth. “I will never look at this place in quite the same way, ma petite?” he said softly. His voice whispered over her skin, black velvet that slipped over her body and seeped into her mind. His voice was purity itself, so beautiful that no one could resist it, least of all her. Savannah found herself blushing, the wild color creeping up her face.

His laughter was soft and husky. His body was already beginning to shape-shift as he launched himself skyward. Savannah watched with pride as his body compacted and iridescent feathers covered the raptor’s shape. He was beautiful, with sharp eyes, razor-like beak, talons, a powerful body. She didn’t have the expertise to change in mid-air, but she held the image he gave her in her mind and felt the peculiar wrenching of bones and muscles heralding the change.

Sensations were completely different. Like the night she had run free as the wolf, Savannah now had the senses of a bird of prey. Her vision was sharp and clear, her eyes enormously wide. She spread her wings experimentally, then flapped them in the light drizzle. They were much bigger than she had anticipated. It delighted her, and she flapped them harder so she could create a wind, causing waves in the water standing in the patio.

Are you having fun?Gregori’s voice held a hint of laughter.