She gritted her teeth. “Don’t call me princess.”

“It’s what you are.” He unbuckled his sword belt and dropped it on the table with a loud clunk. “Princess.”

Was he picking a fight? She yanked her knives from her belt and tossed them on the table. “If I always got what I wanted, Han would have died years ago. And my family would still be alive.”

Russell closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. “You’re right.” He strode toward the ice chest and removed a bottle of blood and another one of water. “I apologize for my lack of social skills. I’m used to being alone.” He loosened the top of the water bottle, then handed it to her.

As she accepted it, she realized his picking on her had been his way to create distance between them. Most likely, he was not comfortable with her invading his space. “I appreciate you letting me stay here. I’ll try not to get in your way.”

He popped his bottle into the microwave. “Don’t worry. In forty-five minutes, I won’t be aware of anything you’re doing.”

That was true, but she would definitely be aware of him all day. She took a sip of water. “You have electricity?”

He nodded and motioned to the wires snaking up through the dirt ceiling. “A solar-powered generator.”

She smiled. “Your cave is more advanced than my room at home.”

He didn’t answer; he just concentrated on unbuckling his watch. As it came off his right wrist, she noticed the tattoo. No wonder it had taken her a few days to see it. His watch did a good job of hiding it.

Curiosity swelled inside her. None of the other good Vamps had Han’s mark on them. How did Russell get it? How did he become a vampire?

She fiddled with her water, screwing the top on and off. “So do you . . . like being a vampire?”

He scoffed, then removed his bottle from the microwave. “I am what I am. No point in thinking about it.”

“Why do you want to kill Han? What did he do to you?”

He paused with the bottle halfway to his mouth. “Han deserves to die.” He took a long drink, guzzling down most of the bottle.

“I told you my reasons. Why don’t you tell me yours?”

He clunked his bottle onto the table and gave her an annoyed look. “I don’t explain myself.”

“I’m your partner. You can talk to me.”

“I don’t need therapy.” He took off his bulky coat and threw it onto the second table. “And I don’t need a partner except for business.”

She bit her lip. Why did he keep trying to push her away? “We are partners. You agreed to it. Is it too hard for you to be a little friendly?”

“Yes.”

She snorted, then leaned over to remove the knives strapped to her calves. “Aren’t you the life of the party.”

He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “You’ll have to endure my company for thirty-six more minutes.” He motioned toward the bathtub. “Before I pass out, should I rig up a sheet for you?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

He arched a brow. “You don’t mind bathing in front of me?”

Was he trying to frighten her again? “You don’t scare me. All I have to do is wait till you’re dead, and I’ll have all the privacy I could want. I could prance about the cave naked, and you would never know.”

His jaw shifted. “Fine. Then what about my privacy? You’ll be awake while I shower.”

She glanced over at the tub. “Y-you’re going to shower now?”

“It generally works best for me to bathe while I’m still alive.” He smirked. “I warned you there would be no privacy. Shall I take you back home?”

“No.” The rascal was still trying to unnerve her, but she’d show him. She lifted her chin. “Why would a little nudity disturb me? I’ve been shifting at the full moon since the age of fourteen. Everyone of age in the village shifts. And we all strip beforehand.” She sighed dramatically. “I have seen more naked men than I ever care to recall.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that so?” He leaned toward her. “So do you plan to watch?”

“Of course not! Why would I even be interested?” She tried in vain to keep her face from growing warm. “I don’t know what the big deal is. I mean, the male anatomy is basically the same, no matter who.”

“All right, then. Since it’s no big deal . . .” He reached a hand over the back of his head, grabbed the neck of his T-shirt, and pulled it off.

She gulped. While it was true that she’d seen her share of nude were-tigers, the men were generally on the lean side. Their muscles didn’t make all those bulges and dips across the stomach. Their chests weren’t so wide, and their shoulders didn’t look like they were chiseled from marble.

He tossed his T-shirt onto the table, then unbuckled the belt to his pants.

She looked away, pretending to watch the river. “Is there anything to eat?” Her voice came out in a squeak.

“You’re hungry?”

Was that the sound of a zipper? Don’t look at him. “Are there any fish in the stream?”

“I have some food here. Do you like chips?”

She heard the rustle of a package being ripped open.

“Turn around if you dare.”

The rascal. “I love chips.” She turned back to the table. Only look at the chips. She rotated the bag on the table so the open end faced her. Don’t look at the way his unzipped trousers are hanging low on his hips.