Chapter 8

As soon as Zack returned to the casino, he knew that Kaitlyn had gone. Frowning, he went to the bar and ordered a drink from his special blend. Why had she left without a word?

Standing with his back to the bar, he perused the room. The patrons had returned to their games of chance as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He grinned inwardly. Mortals had ridiculously short memories.

With a sigh, he sipped his drink, a tasty concoction of chardonnay and type O, as his thoughts returned to Kaitlyn. Had she been bothered by the earlier disturbance? He considered that possibility a moment, then shook his head. She wasn’t the type to be spooked by anything so trivial. Had she grown tired of waiting for his return? He shook his head again. He hadn’t been gone that long. It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes to wipe his compulsion from the man’s mind and send him on his way with no memory of what had occurred. So, what had prompted her to leave without a word of farewell or explanation?

He drained his glass and left it on the bar; then, as was his wont at least once a night, he strolled through the casino. All of his employees were mortal save for the fledgling, Scherry, who was the night bartender, and two of the dealers.

Zack had sired Scherry six months ago at her request. She had been diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. She hadn’t wanted to face a lingering death and she had told him, candidly, that she didn’t have the nerve to take her own life. He had never turned anyone before, but he liked Scherry. After warning her that there were no guarantees, he had taken her up to his lair late one night and brought her across. It had been an interesting experience. Other than a desperate effort to save the life of someone he loved, he had never drained anyone to the point of death before. It had been an incredible high. He still wasn’t sure where he had found the willpower to stop before it was too late. But he had. And then he had given her his blood. And watched in amazement as the color returned to her cheeks, and the spark of life returned to her eyes.

The other two—Steve Walls and Jackson Lautner—had been vampires for several years. The three of them worked at the casino with the understanding that they would not prey on his customers or hunt in his territory, and the sure conviction that Zack would destroy them without a qualm if they did.

Assured that all was well on the casino floor, Zack started toward his office on the second level, then turned on his heel and left the club. Late or not, he needed to see Kaitlyn, needed to know why she hadn’t waited for him to return.

Kaitlyn was watching a late movie when someone knocked on the door. She frowned when she glanced at her watch. It was a little after one A.M. Who would come calling at such an hour?

Silly question. Since she only knew one person in town, the answer was obvious.

She ran a hand over her hair and tightened the belt on her robe before she opened the door. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Four and a half minutes after one. Can I come in?”

With a sigh, she moved out of the way, felt her heart skip a beat when he stepped inside.

He closed the door behind him, then followed her into the living room, stood there while she switched off the TV.

She turned to face him, her arms crossed. “So, what brings you here at this time of the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Take a pill.”

He felt his anger stir at her flippant reply. “Why did you leave?”

“Excuse me?”

“Tonight. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

She sat on the sofa, her hands folded in her lap, her head tilted back slightly so she could see his face. “It was late. I didn’t know how long you were going to be gone, so”—she shrugged one shoulder—“I came home. No law against it, is there?”

“Hey, I’m sorry if I offended you or . . .” He blew out an impatient breath. “Look, I just wanted to make sure you got home all right and you did, so I’ll say good night.”

Kaitlyn bit down on the inside corner of her lower lip as she watched him turn and walk away. What was she doing? If she didn’t say something, he would leave. Did she want him to go? What if she never saw him again?

“Zack, wait!” Jumping to her feet, she hurried after him.

He stood on the porch, his expression implacable.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, not quite meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what came over me. I . . .” She tapped her foot nervously, uncertain of what she wanted to say, not knowing how to phrase it. If he wasn’t a vampire and she asked him if he was, he would think she was some kind of nut. On the other hand, if he was, she wanted—needed—to know.

“Listen, Katy, you don’t owe me any apologies, or anything else. We had some laughs. If you want to end it—”

“No! I mean . . . no.” She clasped her hands to her chest. “Tonight, at the casino, when you were confronting that man . . .”

“Yeah, what about it?” he asked, then paused, his eyes narrowing. “How do you know about that?”

“I followed you downstairs.”

“Is that right?”

She shrugged. “I got tired of waiting.”

He regarded her a moment. “So, you were saying?”

“What? Oh, when you were confronting that man, I thought . . . that is, I felt something . . . peculiar.”

“Peculiar? In what way?” He cursed his inability to read her mind. Knowing what she was really thinking would make everything so much easier.

“Never mind. I probably just imagined it.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her robe and curled them into fists. Why was it, whenever he was close to her, all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him? What strange power did he have, that his presence should affect her so strongly? She had dated other handsome men, been held in their arms, tasted their kisses, and been unmoved. Yet a simple look from Zack, a smile, a word, and she wanted to be in his arms, naked in his bed.

She told herself again that it was nothing more than a bad case of lust, but it was getting harder and harder to convince herself that there was nothing more to it than that. “It’s late. Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow night.”

“Sure, Katy, whatever you want.”

She smiled, thinking her nickname sounded like an endearment when he said it. She looked up at him, waiting, hoping he would kiss her good night. Just when she had given up hope, he pulled her into his embrace and lowered his head to hers.

She folded her hands over his shoulders as his mouth claimed hers in a tantalizing kiss that aroused every cell and nerve ending in her body. She pressed herself shamelessly against him, wanting to be closer, to feel the hard length of his body against hers. He tasted so good, smelled so good. Felt so good. She was sorely tempted to exert her preternatural power over him, to invite him back inside and have her way with him, and then wipe the memory of it from his mind. She had never done such a thing before—never even considered it—but there was a first time for everything. She pondered the wisdom of it another few moments, then sighed. The fact that she couldn’t read his mind gave her pause. Perhaps it wouldn’t work. There was no doubt she could get him into her bed. He was a man, after all. He wasn’t likely to say no. But if she couldn’t read his mind, maybe she wouldn’t be able to erase the memory.

When he kissed her a second time, she wondered if that even mattered.

They were both breathless when, at last, he eased away from her.

“Whoa, girl,” he muttered. “Unless you want me to ravish you on the porch, right here, right now, you’d better tell me to go.”

She hesitated only a moment but then, as common sense overrode desire, she murmured, “Good night, Zack.”

Stepping back inside, she quietly closed and locked the door.

And instantly regretted it.

Chapter 9

Zack’s head was spinning when he left Kaitlyn’s house. Who the hell had taught her to kiss like that? In his time, he had kissed hundreds, maybe thousands, of women, but none had ever affected him like Kaitlyn. He hadn’t been kidding when he threatened to have his way with her right there on the front porch—although a bed would suit him better. He wanted to make love to her in every way possible, to caress every inch of her sweet flesh until she cried for him to take her. And at the same time, he wanted to fold her into his arms and make love to her gently, tenderly, all night long.

And nibble on her neck while he was at it.

Returning to the casino, he went to the bar to get a drink, but he wasn’t in the mood for bottled blood. He wanted something hot and fresh. Which wouldn’t be a problem. Standing with his back against the bar, he unleashed his preternatural power. He could almost see it as it flowed through the room like some irresistible, invisible lure. All he had to do was focus on the woman of his choice, and wait.

Within minutes, a buxom redhead wearing a low-cut, skintight green dress and three-inch heels sashayed toward him, her bright green eyes slightly unfocused.

“Hi,” she purred in a soft, Southern accent.

“Hi, yourself.” He smiled as he ran his fingertips over the inside of her wrist. He could feel the blood flowing just below the skin, hear the nervous beat of her heart.

She returned his smile, moving closer so that her thigh brushed his. “Buy me a drink, handsome?”

“Sure, honey.” Grabbing a bottle one of the bartenders had left on the bar, he took her by the hand. “Come on, let’s go someplace where we can be alone.”

“Whatever you want, sugar.”

Zack chuckled as he led her up the stairs to his private suite.

Whatever I want, he thought as he closed and locked the door.

She had no idea.

Chapter 10

Kaitlyn woke to the bothersome sound of her phone ringing. Her first thought was that it was Zack, until she realized she had never given him her phone number, an oversight she planned to remedy as soon as possible.

She smiled when she said hello and heard her father’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Kaitlyn, is everything all right?”