“What else do you know about me? Should I introduce myself or is that unnecessary?” he asked. For a second he reconsidered his decision of bringing her into his home, but since she knew what he was anyway, there was no use in hiding. Maybe she already had a whole dossier on him. He wouldn’t mind helping her add some details to it, such as what he liked in bed.

“Amaury LeSang,” Nina answered simply.

It didn’t surprise him that she knew his name. Since she’d followed him the previous night and had come prepared with a stake, she probably knew more than just his name.

“This is the first time I have my own little stalker. I’m quite flattered.” Unless, of course, she tried to kill him again, if that was what her intention had been the previous night.

“I’m not a stalker.” Her defiant glare hit him like a punch in the gut. There was so much pain in her eyes, he wanted to merely wrap her into his arms and squeeze her tight. His own reaction surprised him. He wasn’t the cuddly kind.

“What do you call it then when you follow me around at night?”

Again her mouth distorted into a thin line. Nina obviously didn’t like to be cornered. No answer was forthcoming. Was she pissed now and not talking to him anymore?

“You mean I’m not the only one you stalk? Well, now I’m hurt. And here I thought you were interested in me.”

“Oh, you’re such a pompous ass!” she spat.

“Pompous ass or not, it got you talking.” Amaury smirked. He loved the way her cheeks reddened and could almost feel the heat in them radiate outwards. She was lovely when she was angry. Maybe he should continue provoking her.

He felt her warm skin under his hand where he held her shoulder to keep it immobile. He let his thumb stray, slowly gliding over her skin. The motion heated the natural oils on her skin, and the intoxicating scent drifted into his nose. She was like a heady perfume, making him dizzy. That and the aroma of her blood played havoc with his body and mind.

His fangs twitched, ready to descend and drive into her flesh, hungering for a taste.

“What are you looking at?” Nina suddenly asked, her voice edgy. Had she caught him staring?

“We’ll have to close up the wound, otherwise it won’t stop bleeding.”

Good save, Amaury!

“You wouldn’t have a Band Aid lying around?” Her tone was sarcastic. She clearly didn’t trust him further than she could throw him, which wouldn’t be very far at all. Not with his massive proportions. He perused her pretty frame. She wasn’t petite, but compared to him, she looked fragile. Her body was well proportioned: generous curves, strong muscles, yet feminine.

“Do you?” Her voice made him lift his eyes to look at her wound again. Band Aid? No, he didn’t have such a thing.

“I’ve got something better than that.” What the hell, he’d just do what he would normally do: close the wound with his saliva. Use the tools he had.

Amaury lowered his head to her shoulder and felt her pull away from him. “What are you doing?” Panic laced her voice, and her eyes opened wide.

“I’ll lick your wound. My saliva will mend it.” It was simple enough and would be delicious. He’d get a taste of her blood after all.

Nina jerked backwards, scrambling to get away from him, but he pulled her back with both hands.

“Trust me, it won’t hurt.” He infused his voice with a soothing tone.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Not at all. Actually, I think you’re quite smart. Very few humans have figured us out, but obviously you have.”

“That’s right. And that’s exactly why I’m not going to let you near my blood.” There was a hard tone in her voice, mirroring her icy look. Melting that ice had just turned into the most important task on his agenda.

“Don’t get hysterical. I won’t bite you. You can hit me if I do,” he offered with a roguish grin. Then he pulled her closer while he continued to watch her eyes. She was still scared. She didn’t trust him, but she allowed him to come closer. Without any haste he lowered his lips onto her skin. So soft, like silk, like velvet.

The scent of blood almost drugged him, but he pushed back his hunger. “You’ll feel my tongue. It will tingle. Ready?”

There was no reply, but he could feel her holding her breath.

Slowly, his tongue darted through his lips and lapped at the cut. Her blood leapt onto his tongue and ran down his throat as he licked upwards to the end of the wound. Nina tasted of vanilla and spices. He’d never tasted anything as good. If he had a choice, he’d be feasting on her every night and never try anything else again.