Shirley stared at herself in the mirror. She was over forty, and yet she looked younger and happier than she ever had in her whole life. And it was all because of Micah. Sometimes she felt like a dirty old woman lusting after such a young man, but he was all she could think of. So far, she hadn't said anything about her feelings for Micah to Rosemary and Donna. She knew they would both think she was insane for wanting to spend time with a vampire, and maybe she was. But he had become the most important thing in her life.

She was pretty sure Rosemary and Donna suspected something was going on. This afternoon, she had caught the two of them staring at her speculatively time and again.

Well, let them think whatever they would, she thought as she brushed her hair, then changed into a white skirt and a frilly pink silk blouse. She was hoping Micah would come by. And maybe, if she was lucky, he would steal more than kisses tonight.

When the doorbell rang, she ran down the stairs, as excited as a teenager going out on her first date.

Micah whistled softly when she opened the door. "Wow, you look beautiful!"

"Thank you."

"I hope you don't mind my stopping by. I mean, you look like you're going out."

"No, I was just . . ." She hesitated, felt her cheeks grow hot as she blurted, "I was hoping you'd come by."

He smiled at her. "I was hoping you'd say that."

She smiled back, the warmth in his eyes making her toes curl in anticipation.

"Do you want to go out?" he asked. "It's a nice night for a walk."

"Sure." When he offered his hand, she took it, excitement curling in the pit of her stomach as his fingers closed over hers.

They walked in silence for a time, then Micah said, "Why do you stay here? This place is like a ghost town."

"I don't know. I've been here so long, it seems like home."

"You don't have any family anywhere?"

"Not really. A few cousins in Maine. How big is your family?"

"I've got five younger sisters and four older brothers. I'm right in the middle."

"You must be Mormon or Catholic."

Micah laughed. "Staunch Catholics."

"Have you seen them since you became a vampire?" she asked, and thought how strange it was to be talking about vampires as if it was no different from discussing the weather.

"No. I called my mom shortly after it happened. Told her I wouldn't be home for a while. She thinks I'm on location, working on a movie." He shook his head. "Lilith put an end to my career before it ever got started."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "No sense crying over what can't be changed."

Shirley nodded. She couldn't argue with that.

She looked down at her hand in his. The movies had lost a good thing, she thought, admiring his profile. He was incredibly handsome. If only she wasn't so old.

A moment later, he stopped walking. She glanced around, noting they had left the residential area behind and had reached the park. There were no lights here. "Something wrong?" she asked, suddenly nervous at being alone in the dark with a vampire, even one she found undeniably attractive.

" No."

"What is it?"

He made a soft sound of amusement. "I want you, too." "What?" She looked up at him, startled by his words because they so clearly echoed her own thoughts.

"I can read your mind, Shirl. I know you've got the hots for me, and that it embarrasses you."

She turned away from him, her cheeks flaming.

He moved closer, his hands folding over her shoulders, pulling her body back against his. She felt his lips, cool against the side of her neck, the gentle brush of his fangs on her skin.

"You've been driving me crazy," he whispered. "I can't stop thinking about you. Wanting you."

She didn't know what to think, what to say, and then he was turning her around to face him, lowering his head to claim her lips with his, and there was no more time for thought, no need for words.

She trembled with anticipation when he swung her into his arms and carried her deeper into the park. Lowering her onto a patch of soft grass, he stretched out beside her. "Don't be afraid, pretty girl. I won't hurt you."

She gazed into his eyes, eyes with a faint red gleam, and wondered why she believed him.

Later, curled up against his side, she smiled. She hadn't felt this happy or this content in more years than she cared to remember. He had made love to her ever so gently, as if he was afraid she might shatter in his arms.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Never better." She turned her head to look at him. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

She groaned softly. She was nearly twice his age. But that wasn't the worst of it. She would continue to grow older, and he would forever be twenty-three. It just wasn't fair.

But right now, with his hands gently caressing her, it didn't seem to matter.