"Ter!"

Terri glanced up and spotted Dave at once. It would be impossible not to spot her brother-in-law. Being tall, prematurely gray, and good-looking made him stand out in most crowds. Forcing a weary smile, she turned in his direction as she came through the arrivals gate. "Dave. Thank you for coming to get me."

"No problem." He gave her a hug in greeting and took the handle of her suitcase in one smooth move. "How was your flight?"

"Long," she said on a sigh.

"Isn't it always?" he asked. "A shame they got rid of the Concorde."

"Yes."

"You look..." Her brother-in-law hesitated to say it, but he didn't have to; Terri knew how she looked.

"Awful?" she suggested helpfully.

"Well, I wouldn't have put it quite so bluntly, but yes, you look awful," he admitted, concern now crowding his eyes.

"Wore herself out with all that partying she did in New York, no doubt. It's a good thing she's home and can rest now."

"Sandi!" Terri turned to embrace the shorter red¬head, who had appeared from the crowd. "When I didn't see you, I thought perhaps you were working on a deadline or something."

"She is. But that wouldn't stop her coming to pick up her favorite sister-in-law," Dave said staunchly, slipping his free hand around his wife's shoulder to hug her close.

"No, it wouldn't," Sandi agreed, hugging him back. She smiled, then explained, "I was in the ladies' room... as I usually am when the important stuff happens."

Her words made Dave chuckle, and they brought the first sincere smile to Terri's lips since she'd left Kate and Lucern's wedding reception.

"Well, come on," Dave said suddenly. "Let's get you out of here and home."

He ushered the two women to the parking eleva¬tors. The couple chatted about the traffic on the ride in, and about what had happened while Terri was away, leaving her to merely listen and absorb the fact that she was home again. The funny thing was, it didn't feel like home anymore. Nothing seemed quite the same as when she'd left. Their accents--accents she had lived among for ten years, and probably picked up a bit of herself over time--sounded for-eign to her ears. The cars they passed as they walked through the parking garage to Dave's black Jaguar seemed oddly shaped, small and strange after two weeks among larger, sleeker North American models. Even riding on the left-hand side of the road no longer seemed normal. In truth, Terri had adjusted so quickly to being back in the States, England now felt as foreign as it had the first time she came.

"So, tell us about the wedding. Did it go off with¬out a hitch?"

A small burst of laughter slipped from Terri's lips.

Sandi, who had asked the question and turned in the front seat to include her in the conversation, raised her eyebrows slightly at Terri's response. "Oh, now you have to explain that reaction," she said. "It sounds like quite the story."

"The wedding," Terri said with a hollow smile; then she launched into a recounting of the calamities that had befallen Kate's wedding and what she and Bastien had done to resolve them. She managed to fill the entire ride back to Huddersfield with the tale, winding down just as they turned onto the street where Dave and Sandi lived.

"We thought you'd like to stop in for tea before we take you home," Dave explained. "We knew you wouldn't have anything at home to eat, and thought this would give you the chance to unwind a bit. We'll take you to Sainsbury's to pick up groceries before we drive you home, too. Is that all right?"

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you." Terri met his gaze in the rearview mirror and nodded. It was more than fine with her. She really didn't look forward to being on her own in her little cottage again. Terri knew, the moment she was alone, all those thoughts and memo¬ries she was trying so hard to forget would come crowding in.

"I'll make the tea while you girls catch up," Dave offered as he parked the car.

"You're a good man, Dave," Terri said with affection.

"He's better than good," Sandi announced. They got out. "He's a star."

"So are you, flower," her husband responded, tak¬ing her hand and dropping a quick kiss on her fore¬head before turning toward the house.

Terri smiled as she followed the couple inside, but her heart was aching a little at their easy affection. It reminded her of Bastien.

"Well!" Sandi led the way into the living room and dropped onto the couch with a sigh, then raised her eyebrows at Terri. "Now that we're alone, would you care to talk about this Bastien and what he did to break your heart?"

Terri stiffened, then glanced sharply at her sister-in-law.

"What makes you think he broke my heart?" she asked finally. "Or that I love him, for that matter?"

"Oh, please." Sandi gave a laugh. "Every other word out of your mouth has been 'Bastien.' And you didn't fly home early, looking like death warmed over, because things were going well. So, spill it. What did he do?"

"Actually, he didn't do anything. I'm the one who left him," Terri admitted slowly. The story poured out of her. She recounted every moment of the last two weeks, without leaving anything out. She didn't even slow down or acknowledge Dave when he came back into the room to join them. It was like a purg¬ing of her soul.

The couple sat silent throughout, not saying a word until Terri finished and sat back to await their thoughts. Those thoughts weren't long in coming. Knowing the couple as she did, Terri had expected Sandi to be sympathetic and Dave to perhaps think she was an idiot, so she was taken by surprise when her sister-in-law shook her head and said, "You stu¬pid girl."

Terri stiffened in shock, but Sandi wasn't finished. "You found true love--your perfect match--and al¬lowed fear to make you throw it aside? You idiotl"

While Terri was gasping, Sandi slapped her hands on her thighs and sat back to cross her arms over her chest. "That's it, then. I suppose you'll be moving to France next."

"What?" Terri asked, confused.

"Well, I presume you love us."

"Of course, I do," Terri said. "I don't know what I would have done after lan's death without you two to--"

"So," Sandi interrupted with a shrug, "you'd best move to France and get away from us. The more time you spend around us, the more you'll love us--and you know we'll die someday too."

"It's not the same," Terri protested.

"Certainly, it is. Love is love, and loss is loss. We all love, and we all die, and everyone suffers the pain of grieving. The trick is to enjoy what you have while you have it. Not run like a bunny from the good things because they might be taken away sooner than you'd like."

"But--"

"Do you regret the time you had with Ian? Would you give that up, have it wiped from your memory to avoid the pain of having lost him?" she asked. "Or your mother? Do you wish she'd died giving birth to you so that you wouldn't have had to suffer losing her at nineteen? Then, as I said, there's Dave and me. If we grow sick, will you stop visiting and shun us? Or if I walk out that door and get hit by a bus, will you regret knowing me because of the pain losing me causes? Will it hurt less today than tomorrow, or next week, or next year?"

"No, of course not."

"That's because you love us, Terri. And you love this Bastien. The only difference is you gave him up before you had to. You're suffering for nothing. You're causing it yourself. You're being a fool."

"That's a bit harsh, isn't it, flower?" Dave asked mildly.

"Is it?" Sandi turned raised eyebrows on him. "How would you feel if I ran off on you, not because of something you did wrong, or because I didn't love you, but because I did love you and you were sick? Because I might hurt later?"

Dave's eyes widened, and Sandi nodded. "Uh huh. Well, that's about how this Bastien feels right now. Terri's punishing him because she loves him and he's dared to be ill, to be human. He's probably hurting right now and not even knowing what he did to make her leave."

"But Dave loves you," Terri pointed out.

"And this Bastien loves you," Sandi said firmly. "Everything you've told me about him tells me that. And here you are, hurting both him and yourself, for no good reason other than you're a coward. It takes courage to live, Terri. To really live. To follow your dreams, to love someone, to face each day. Agorapho¬bics are trapped in their homes because they are terri¬fied of what might happen--but as long as they stay inside, they'll never know what could happen. You're an emotional agoraphobic. You've been one since Ian died, avoiding emotional entanglements to avoid get¬ting hurt. Well, it's high time you rejoined the living, my girl, and stopped acting like you're the one in the cold hard grave. I bet Ian would give anything to be alive and in love, yet here you have it and you're throwing it away." Sandi shook her head and stomped out of the room, muttering, "I'm going back to work. Sometimes people make me crazy."

Terri bit her lip and glanced at Dave, who patted her arm reassuringly. "She's just stressed out with this deadline. She loves you. We both do, and we hate to see you unhappy. You've been so unhappy for so long, Terri. And it's upsetting to see you throw some¬thing good away."

"But he's dying, Dave," Terri complained. "I can't watch that happen again."

"Are you sure he's dying? Do you know for sure? Perhaps it's something chronic, not terminal. Or maybe he's got five to ten good years. Do you want to miss those to avoid six months to a year of hard times? I'm not saying it would be easy at the end, but can't you enjoy the time you do have and not worry so much about what you'll lose?" He added, "You know, Sandi's right. She could walk out the door and die tomorrow. So could I. Or even, you. Even if Bastien is terminally ill, he might outlive you. We can't live on might-bes. Because nothing is set in stone."

Terri lowered her head, her mind running in cir¬cles. Confusion seemed to be the key word for the last day and a half. She was exhausted, and that made it difficult to think.

"You look done in," Dave commented. "Why don't you lie down on the couch and rest a bit? I'll wake you when the tea's ready."

"Yes. I think I'll do that," Terri murmured. "I've been awake for more than twenty-four hours, and more than thirteen of those were spent in airports or airplanes."

"Then you can definitely use the sleep. Have a lie-down." He urged her onto the couch, grabbed one of the fluffy pillows that sat on either end, and settled it under her head. Fetching an afghan off the chair, he laid it over her.

"Thank you," Terri murmured. "Sandi's lucky to have you. And so am I."

"Hmm." Dave cleared his throat and looked un¬comfortable. Shrugging, he muttered that she should sleep, and left her alone.

Terri slept. They didn't wake her for tea, but let her sleep through the night. She woke up at five o'clock the next morning, feeling like a bag of dirt. But a well-rested bag of dirt. Smiling faintly to her¬self, Terri got up and folded the blanket someone had put on her in the night, then folded the afghan as well. She collected fresh clothes from her suitcase and made her way up the stairs to the bathroom, manag¬ing to take a shower without waking the couple asleep just across the hall. Terri dressed, brushed her teeth, and went back downstairs. She fixed herself tea in the kitchen, took it outside, and sat on the picnic table, staring blankly at the wilderness growing there as she considered everything Sandi had said, and everything she herself knew.

In truth, Terri didn't know for sure that Bastien was terminally ill. Yet all the evidence seemed to point that way. She decided that she would go on the premise that she was right and make her decision from there, because she needed to know what she wanted if Bastien was going to die. If he wasn't, the answer was simple; she wanted to be with him. But marriage was about sickness and health, better or worse--there was no line stating so long as ye both shall be healthy and happy. Terri needed to know if she loved him enough to be willing to stand by him through the hard stuff, too. If she could be strong enough to do so.

She stared at the brick wall surrounding Dave and Sandi's little cottage, and imagined the days ahead without him. It seemed a pretty bleak world without Bastien. Then she imagined her time with him, and remembered how it already had been. The laughter, the talk, the working together in a crisis--Terri wanted that. She didn't want to lose it after having it. But, in effect, she already had. Sandi was right, she'd given it up already. As for suffering his illness with him, she had been through it twice before. Terri knew that she would be checking with Kate to see how Bastien was. She wouldn't be able to help her¬self. The updates she received, along with her past ex¬perience and her imagination, were enough for her to know exactly what he was suffering and to suffer with him, whether she was there to see it physically or not.

She was a coward and a fool, Terri realized. She'd passed up days, months, maybe even years of happiness by anticipating the bad that would follow. There were no guarantees in life. Even if Bastien were dying, she might--as Dave suggested--beat him to the grave. Standing abruptly, Terri walked back into the cottage and rinsed her cup. Then she wrote a quick note to her friends and picked up the phone to call a cab.

"If you can wait ten minutes while I dress, I'll drive you."

Terri glanced to the doorway where Dave stood in a pair of fleece pants and a top. She'd forgotten he was an early riser. "I could catch a cab. Then you won't have to bother."

"I want to run over to Sainbury's for a couple at things, anyway. And I know you need to stop there before going home. I'll just be a minute." He didn't give her the chance to refuse, simply turned and jogged back upstairs. Two minutes later, Sandi came down in her housecoat, yawning.

"Oh." She shook her head as the yawn ended, as if trying to shake herself awake, then glanced at Terri. "I'm sorry about what I said."

"Don't be. You were right."

Sandi shrugged. "I could have said it more diplomatically."

Terri grinned, and hugged her. "I love you."

"You're going to him," Sandi said. There was a sadness in her eyes as they parted. "You should be able to find a teaching position over there in one of the universities. I know you'll be happy. But we'll miss you."

Terri felt a thickness at the back of her throat. She'd depended on this couple as her only nearby family for a long time. She forced a smile. "Well, don't jump the gun. He might not want me."

Sandi snorted. "Yeah, right."

"And if he did, he might not now because I ran out on him."

"He'll forgive you," Sandi predicted. "You'll just have to grovel and admit you've been an idiot."

Terri chuckled, then glanced to the doorway as Dave came jogging back down the stairs. "Right! I'm ready. I'll be back shortly, flower," He gave Sandi a quick kiss, grabbed Terri's suitcase handle, then paused and turned back for another kiss before lead¬ing the way out of the cottage.

"Drive carefully," Sandi called from the doorstep.

"I will, flower. Now go back to bed--you were up late working."

"Nag," she muttered affectionately.

"I heard that."

"Of course you did," she said with a grin, then waved at Terri and went back inside.

Terri shook her head with amusement as she got into the passenger seat of the Jaguar. "You two were made for each other."

"Yes, we were," Dave agreed. He grinned as he started the car, then sent it racing down the street.

Bastien was dozing in the front seat of his rental car when the car roared up behind him. Blinking his eyes open, he saw a black Jaguar pull to a stop with two passengers inside. It took a moment for his sleep-fogged mind to recognize Terri in the passenger seat, then he spotted the man with her and he woke right up. It was seven o'clock in the morning. She hadn't been in last night when he'd arrived, and he'd sat in the car outside her little cottage waiting, until he'd dozed off. He'd slept fitfully in the car, worried sick, wondering if she'd missed a connection, or run into trouble or what. But here she was returning now... and with another man? Bastien thought he might pop the bastard.

Opening the door, he slid out of his car. Propping his hands on his hips, he watched the couple get out of the car behind his.

"Bastien!" Terri sounded more shocked than happy to see him, he decided; and that was irritating to his sleep-deprived mind too. And blood-deprived, he reminded himself. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he fed, but he knew it was too long. Maybe he'd bite the guy with Terri rather than pop him.

"Dave, this is Bastien," she said to the tall, silverhaired man who tugged Terri's suitcase out of the trunk of the black car. Prematurely silver-haired, Bastien realized as the fellow closed the trunk and moved toward him, dragging the suitcase on its wheels. He took a step forward.

"Bastien, this is David Simpson, my brother-in-law," she introduced. "Dave and his wife, Sandi, picked me up from the airport yesterday. I fell asleep on their couch last night."

Bastien felt all the hot air flow out of him. Brother-in-law. With a wife. "Oh," he said, then held out his hand in greeting. "Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you too," Dave said with a grin. He placed the handle of Terri's suitcase in Bastien's hand rather than shaking it.

Bastien stared down at the suitcase as Dave turned and hugged Terri. "I have to go. Sandi will worry. Call and let us know what happens."

Bastien lifted his head to watch the man roar off in his Jaguar. "Nice car."

"It's Dave's pride and joy," Terri said. "Would you like to come in?"

Bastien nodded, then followed her up the sidewalk, only then noticing that she was carrying a grocery bag. Obviously, her brother-in-law had taken her shopping before bringing her home, he realized. He followed Terri into her small cottage, his eyes moving curiously around the place as he closed the door. It was small but cozy and tastefully decorated, he noted; then Terri whirled to face him.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have run off like that."

"Terri--"

"No, wait. Let me speak," Terri insisted. "I made a mistake. A stupid mistake because I was scared. I..." I love you, Bastien. I do. And the idea of your being ill and watching you go through what Ian and my mother went through scares the heck out of me, but I'm willing to do it if I can spend however much good time you have left with you. I'll take the bad with the good. I'll--"

"I'm not sick," Bastien interrupted.

Terri paused and stared, uncomprehending. "What?"

"I'm not sick," he repeated firmly.

"But the vials in your fridge."

"The vials?" he asked. Then understanding slowly dawned. "Vincent's serum?"

"Vincent's serum?" Terri echoed.

"Yes. You know about his digestive trouble. The lab sent those up for him to try. It's a new serum we hope will help," he answered, couching his words carefully so that he was telling the truth, but not re¬vealing everything. Yet.

Terri sank onto the sofa with a plop. "The serum is Vincent's."

"Yes."

"But what about the blood and the IV stand?"

"The IV stand? In the closet of the master suite?" he asked with surprise.

She nodded.

"That's been there a long time. Lissianna needed it at one time, and we've just never gotten rid of it."

"Lissianna?" Terri's voice was a squeak.

"Yes. Lissianna."

"And the blood?" she asked hopefully.

Bastien hesitated. This was where it got tricky.

Terri went on, "And Kate said you had something to tell me that we would have to work out if we were going to work out."

"That's true," he admitted, glad to avoid the blood for the time being. "There is something that I'll need to discuss with you if you agree to marry me, but it isn't that I'm terminally ill. I'm not ill at all."

"You want to marry me?" Terri asked with pleasure.

Bastien rolled his eyes. "Terri, honey. I just flew two thousand three hundred miles chasing after you. It wasn't to ask you on a date."

"Oh, Bastien!" She launched herself off the couch. Bastien caught her with an, "oomph," then found his face peppered with little butterfly kisses.

"Terri, honey, hang on. We do have to talk."

"Later," she murmured. "I've been so miserable since hearing Lissianna and Kate in the bathroom, I--" She paused and peered at him with question. "What were they talking about--that I should understand, because of Ian? I thought they were saying that you were ill, and I should be able to understand and deal with it because of my experiences with Ian."

"We have to talk," Bastien repeated with a sigh.

"Just tell me," she said.

"It's not something you just blurt out, Terri."

"Now you're making me nervous again."

"I'm sorry, but it's..." Taking her hands, he drew her back to the sofa and settled beside her. "It's not bad," he started, hoping she would agree.

"It isn't?"

"No." He glanced around the living room of her cottage, absently noting the comfortable charm as he tried to think of the best way to tell her. "Well," he said finally, "have you ever seen the movie An Ameri¬can Werewolf in London?"

She gave a perplexed laugh. "Yes. Hasn't everyone?"

He nodded. "Well, I'm not American, or a were¬wolf, and we aren't in London."

She blinked several times at his comment. Then she said slowly, "No, this is Huddersfield."

"And I'm Canadian and a vampire," he finished brightly.

"Uh... huh," she said slowly. "Bastien, are you feeling well?"

"Terri--"

"Is this your idea of a joke?"

She was getting annoyed, he thought with alarm. How the heck had Etienne and Lucern told Rachel and Kate that they were vampires? "Terri, honey," he began. "It's not a joke. I really am a vampire."

"Oh. I see." She was getting snippy. That was inter¬esting. He'd never seen her snippy before. Well, per¬haps with the cashier at Victoria's Secret. No, Bastien decided, Terri had put the clerk in her place, but she had not got snippy with the girl.

"You're a vampire." Her voice was disbelieving, and she was nodding her head up and down in a way that didn't look promising. "Fine. Bite me."

Terri held her arm out in challenge, and Bastien frowned. "Terri, I don't want to bite you," he said. Then he paused and said more honestly, "Well, actually, I am a pit peckish right at the moment, but I'd rather not--"

"Uh-huh. Bite me!" she snapped. "If you're a vampire, bite me."

Bastien peered at her arm for a minute, then took it in hand, lifted it up, and bit her.

"Ouch!" Terri leapt off the couch, retrieving her arm as she went. Bastien had to snap his teeth back double quick to keep from ripping her vein and flesh. "You bit me! You've got fangs!"

"Now do you believe me?"

Clutching her arm to her chest, she began to back away.

"Please don't be afraid of me, Terri. I love you," he said softly, taking a step after her and holding out his hand in pleading. He was relieved when she hesi¬tated. "Honey, this is a good thing. Really. You'll never have to worry about my dying a horrible, lin¬gering death," he offered. "I won't die like your mother and Ian. I can't."

She stared at him. "Your father is dead. Was he staked?"

"No. He burned to death. We can burn to death." Then he added quickly, "But that wouldn't be a long lingering illness. None of the ways we can die are long and lingering."

"So, the blood in your fridge..."

"Was to feed. We don't bite humans anymore, not unless absolutely necessary."

"You aren't human."

"Yes, of course we are. Sort of. We're just a differ¬ent nationality, really. We're almost immortal, as opposed to mortal. Atlantean rather than British. Well, we're Canadian now. At least my family is." He paused and frowned; he was really making a flub of this. "Look, honey, sit down and I'll explain every¬thing. Our vampirism is scientific in basis, not a curse or something. We aren't soulless. That night-walking demon thing everyone thinks vampires are--well, it was all just a big misunderstanding."

Terri didn't sit down; instead she narrowed her eyes. "So vampires can walk in daylight?"

"Yes." He frowned. "Well, the sun does a lot of damage, of course. And going out in it means we have to consume a lot more blood to make up for it, but we can go out in it without bursting into flames or anything."

She seemed to accept that, but then, she had seen him in sunlight. She asked, "How old are you?"

Bastien sighed. "Four hundred and twelve."

"Four hundred and--jeez." She sat, then stiffened. "So, all that stuff you knew when we visited the museum..."

"I was there for the stuff I was telling you," he ad¬mitted. "Not the medieval stuff, just from the 1600s through now."

"Is that all?" she asked dryly. Then shook her head and muttered, "This is nuts."

"No, it's science," Bastien explained. "See, our At-lantean scientists made nanos that would repair and regenerate the body, but they use blood at an acceler¬ated rate to do so, a rate the body can't keep up with. Thus, we need to ingest more blood to feed them and stay healthy. We drink blood to survive, like diabetics need insulin injected because they don't produce enough of their own."

"Atlanteans," Terri muttered. "I went and fell in love with the man from Atlantis." She glanced up sharply. "You don't have webbed fingers and toes, too, or something, do you?"

Bastien sighed, trying to remain patient. There was so much myth around both Atlantis and vampires. None of it ever tied together, however, thank good¬ness. "Honey, you've seen me naked. All of me. You know I don't have gills and fins."

"Oh, yes." She was silent, then cleared her throat. "Bastien?"

"Yes?" he asked hopefully.

"I think I'd like you to leave. I need some time to... er... digest this."

He felt his stomach drop. "How much time?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted.

Bastien stared at her for a minute, then stood and moved to the door. He paused, then glanced back to ask, "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"No, of course not. They'd think I was nuts, anyway."

He nodded. "Good. Because you'd threaten my whole family--including Kate."

"Kate?" Terri's head snapped up.

Bastien nodded. "Lucern turned her. She's his life mate."

"Was she willing?"

"Of course she was," he snapped. "We don't go turning people without their permission. Well, we did Rachel," he admitted. "But she was an exception. She was dying, and we had to save her."

"Rachel is a vampire, but wasn't one before?" she asked.

"No."

"And Greg?"

"Your garden variety Canadian psychologist--un¬til he and Lissianna fell in love and she turned him."

Terri nodded slowly. "So, for me to be your mate, you'd have to turn me?"

"Yes. If you were willing."

"And if I wasn't?"

"Then I'd have to watch you age and weaken and die, just as you did Ian and your mother--only over a much longer period of time, of course. I'd do that for you, Terri. And I'd love you till the end. It would kill me, but... we mate for life in our family." He opened the door, took a step out, then turned. "I'll be staying at the George Hotel for two nights, then I fly back to America."

Terri nodded slowly, and he nodded back; then he pulled the door closed and walked to his rental car. Bastien didn't know if he'd done the right thing leaving her with this knowledge. He might be risking his entire family. But love was about trust, and he trusted Terri. She loved him, arid while she might not be able to accept what he was in the end, she would never set out to hurt him.

Terri unwrapped her prawn sandwich, took a bite, then set it down with a sigh and glanced out her office window. Prawn was her favorite, but it didn't taste very good at the moment. Nothing did since she'd left New York. Since leaving Bastien.

Terri grimaced and picked up her sandwich again. It had been almost a week since Bastien had left her cottage. And while she had said she needed time to digest what he'd told her... well, she had indiges¬tion. She couldn't quite seem to get a grip on what he was. Terri understood what he had said, and while she knew there was probably a lot more explanation, she could mostly comprehend the nanos and blood bit. But understanding and believing and accepting were vastly different things. Terri understood what he claimed to be, she believed it was possible, but she was having trouble accepting it. Her wonderful, sweet, per¬fect, fairy-tale romance had turned out to have a twist. Prince Charming was a bloodsucker.

"That looks tasty."

Terri glanced up at that dry comment, then leapt to her feet. "Kate!"

"Hi." Grinning, the other woman removed her sunglasses and started forward, walking around the desk with every intention of hugging her.

Fear shooting through her, Terri instinctively held her hand out to stop her cousin, then blinked at the sandwich she was holding up like some Victorian wench holding up a cross.

"Bite?" she offered lamely.

Kate stared at the sandwich, burst out laughing and took it. She tossed it in the garbage bin under Terri's desk, snatched her hand, and drew her towards the door. "Come on, we're going to Harvey Nichols for lunch."

"Oh, but Harvey Nichols is so expensive," Terri protested, dragging her feet.

Much to her amazement, it didn't even slow Kate down. Terri had to wonder if the added-strength bit in vampire movies was true.

"It is," Kate answered, as if she'd spoken the thought aloud. She grabbed Terri's light spring coat off the rack as she dragged her cousin past it.

"You can read my mind?" Terri asked, shocked.

"Yes. That's true, too," Kate said mildly. -

"So, all that time, Bastien could read my mind?" she asked in horror. "He knew what I was thinking?"

"Nope. He couldn't read your mind. Which is why you two are perfect together."

"It is?"

"Uh-huh."

"Kate, I don't think..." Terri paused abruptly as her cousin stopped walking and turned to face her, eyes narrowed.

"Terri, I am Kate. The same Kate you've always known. The cousin you love, who loves you. The girl you used to hunt tadpoles with. Nothing has changed. And it upsets me that you would be afraid of me because of a change in my medical condition." She paused, then added, "Especially since I took time out of my honeymoon to come here and straighten out what Bastien messed up."

"Your honeymoon?" Terri whispered.

"Yes. My honeymoon," Kate repeated." The minute Marguerite called and told me what hap¬pened, I insisted Lucern and I change our original plans to include Huddersfield, England, as part of our tour. Then I left Lucern all alone and lonely in the George Hotel and caught the train here to Leeds to see you, all because I love you. I want you happy. I would never hurt you. If I'd wanted to bite you, I could have done so countless times while you were staying with me in New York, but I didn't. I don't bite. Now, please just come to lunch and let me maybe make more sense of this for you. That way, you can at least make an informed decision." Terri hesitated then nodded. "All right."

"Bastien, you aren't listening to me," Marguerite Ar-geneau accused.

"Yes, I am, mother," Bastien said, a tad impatiently. He didn't bother to lift his eyes from the file he was reading.

"Then what did I say?"

Bastien set down the papers he'd been going through, and sat back in his chair to give her his un¬divided attention. Not that she noticed; she wasn't looking at him at all, but was pacing back and forth in front of his desk with agitation. Sighing wearily, he recounted, "You said that you received a letter from someone this morn--"

"From Vincent," she cut in.

"Fine, from Vincent," he repeated dutifully, then paused to frown. "Why would Vincent send you a letter? He's staying in the penthouse with us. Why didn't he just--"

"Good lord, you really are out of it," Marguerite interrupted. Pausing in front of his desk, she scowled at him over her crossed arms, then heaved a sigh and reminded him, "Vincent is back in California."

"Is he?"

"Yes. He is. He flew home a week ago."

"What about his play?" Bastien asked with a frown. "Dracula, the musical?"

She gave a discounting wave and began to pace again. "The production closed down two weeks ago."

"Already?" His eyes widened. "I should have gone to see it on opening night, but I didn't know it had opened. Did I?" he asked, not at all sure that he hadn't been told and either not paid attention or just let it slip his mind. Many things had slipped his mind since Terri left.

Marguerite stopped her pacing to say with exag¬gerated patience, "It never made it to opening night, Bastien,"

His eyebrows rose. "Why?"

"They had to close down. Too many of the cast and crew dropped out due to illness."

"What kind of illness?" Bastien asked, his eyes narrowing.

Marguerite hesitated. "They weren't sure."

He couldn't help noticing that his mother was sud¬denly avoiding his gaze. "Mother," he said in warn-ing tones.

Sighing, she admitted, "They weren't sure, but ap¬parently it was some sort of contagious anemia."

"Contagious anemia," Bastien echoed with disgust. There was no such thing as contagious anemia. Now he knew where Vincent had been doing his feeding since arriving in New York. He shook his head in wonder. "The man ate himself out of his first lead role in a play. Dear Lord! How did he manage that? What was he thinking?"

"I don't think he was," Marguerite said with a sigh. "Thinking, that is. I suspect he was so nervous about his lead role that he just--"

"He didn't seem nervous," Bastien snapped. He had known the man for four hundred years; nothing made him nervous.

"That's true," his mother allowed reluctantly, then her expression cleared. "Well, of course!"

"Of course, what?" Bastien asked, suspecting he didn't want to know.

"Well, it was probably comfort eating."

"Comfort eating?" he repeated incredulously.

"Mmm." Marguerite nodded. "Well, there were Etienne and Lissianna, happy with their life mates, and Lucern marrying his, and you with Terri... He was probably lonely, suddenly aware of his solitary status, and overfeeding because of it."

"Dear Lord." Bastien sank back in his seat and shook his head.

"The poor boy," Marguerite murmured.

"Yes, poor boy," Bastien said dryly. He rolled his eyes. His mother had always had a soft spot for Vin¬cent; he was her favorite nephew.

"Perhaps I should go visit him," she murmured thoughtfully.

Bastien perked up at this suggestion. "Perhaps you should. Understanding as you are, you might be able to help him."

"Yes." Marguerite picked up her purse off his desk. "A trip to California would be nice this time of year."

"I hear it's lovely," he agreed encouragingly.

"Yes. I think I will." She slung her purse strap over her shoulder, then paused to peer at him. "You know I love you and wouldn't run off to California to tend Vincent if I didn't already know your little problem was taken care of, don't you?"

Bastien's head jerked slightly. Her comment caught him by surprise. "I don't have a problem," he growled, then added, "And what do you mean it's been taken care of?"

Marguerite ignored the question. Whirling away from the desk, she headed for the door. "Well, I'm off to California. Vincent will no doubt insist I stay with him, so ring me there if you have any... news."

"Wait! Mother!" Bastien half rose, then paused and simply sank down in his seat again when the door closed. For a minute, he stared blindly at the closed door, wondering what she had been talking about. Bastien suspected she had meant his broken heart when she spoke of his problem, but he had no idea what she meant when she'd said it was taken care of. The possibilities were endless. No doubt a half-dozen New York psychologists were going to call him over the next couple of days--pretty, single fe¬male psychologists--all claiming a need to talk to him about his mother.

Bastien scrubbed his hands through his hair with agitation. Marguerite Argeneau had to be the most annoying, interfering... And she was now Vincent's problem. For a while, at least.

"Sorry, Vinny," he muttered under his breath. A small smile plucked at his lips at the idea of the chaos his cousin was about to suffer, but it died quickly. As annoying and persistent as she could be, Marguerite Argeneau often got what she wanted. She had man¬aged to get Kate back for Lucern when the woman had fled him for New York. And she had arranged for Thomas to get Etienne and Rachel back together when they had fallen out. It was just a shame she hadn't set her mind to getting Terri back for him.

Not that he wanted her interference, he assured himself.

Meredith was talking on the phone when Terri walked into her office. The woman stopped dead in the middle of her conversation and gaped at her; then she hung up the phone without a word of good-bye or an explanation to whomever she had been talking to. "Am I glad to see you."

Terri smiled. "Well, it's nice to see you too, Meredith."

"Trust me, not as nice as it is for me to see you, Terri." The secretary stood, collected her purse and jacket, and walked around the desk. "He's been a mis¬erable grouch ever since returning from England. He loves you, you know."

"Yes." Terri smiled. "He told me that in Hudders-field. The problem was whether I could handle what you all are." One of the things that Kate had ex¬plained was that most of the employees at the upper level were vampires as well. There were many em¬ployees at Argeneau Enterprises who weren't, but those in important positions were. It eliminated the possibility of a disgruntled employee blabbing about what they were to the rest of the world.

Meredith paused in front of her and nodded. "And now?"

"And now, I'm unemployed, homeless, and here," Terri said wryly. She'd quit her job, and even man¬aged to sell the cottage before leaving. She intended to look for a position in America, or Toronto, or wherever it was that she and Bastien ended up. If he still wanted her.

Smiling, the secretary leaned forward and hugged her. "Welcome to the family," she said. Then turned to gesture to Bastien's office door. "It's not locked. He'll be happy to see you. I'm going to an early lunch."

"Thank you," Terri said quietly. She waited for the older woman to leave the office before she knocked, waited for his "Enter"--which was rather snappish, she noticed--then walked in.

"Meredith, where the hell did I put--" His harassed tones died abruptly as he glanced up and spotted her.

"Terri."

Tern.

"You didn't put me anywhere, but you left me in Huddersfield." She closed the door and crossed the room, suddenly unsure that Kate and Meredith were right, and that he would really be happy to see her. He didn't look too happy.

Bastien was confused for a minute; then he reran his last words to himself--"Meredith, where the hell did I put... Terri." Understanding dawned. "I waited the two days."

"I'm a slow thinker," Terri said apologetically. "And thick sometimes. Kate had to come see me be¬fore I got over old presumptions."

"Old presumptions?"

"Well, you know. Thirty-three years of vampire movies can leave an impression," Terri explained with a shrug. "I was stuck on the word, not seeing the man. Or the woman, for that matter." She paused in front of his desk. "I was even afraid of Kate when she first showed up at my office in Leeds."

"Kate came to the University?" Bastien asked.

Terri nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "She said she just knew that you'd mess up the ex¬plaining part."

"I didn't mess up the explaining part," he snapped.

" 'Have you seen the movie An American Werewolf in London?' " she quoted back to him. She shook her head and laughed.

Bastien flushed. So, okay--maybe that hadn't been the smoothest opening. Since then, he'd thought of at least a dozen better ways to start.

"I was under a bit of pressure," he excused himself. He gave a weary shrug, then sat back in his seat and eyed her. "Are you going to tell me why you're here? Or are you enjoying torturing me?"

"I'm here because I love you."

That sounded hopeful, he thought, his body tensing.

"And because I hope you still love me."

Bastien stared at her for a minute, part of him wanting to leap over the desk and take her in his arms and show her how much he still loved her. The other part urged caution. "And what about"--he gestured to his body--"my medical condition?"

Terri gave a laugh. "Medical condition?"

Bastien sighed wearily. "You know what I mean."

She hesitated, then asked, "Do you still love me, Bastien? Or are you so hurt that I needed time to think about this that you aren't sure you want any¬thing to do with me anymore?"

"I still love you," he admitted. "I'll love you for¬ever. Or at least for the next four or five hundred years. After that, we might have to work at it."

Terri grinned and walked around the desk.

Bastien watched her, unable to move, still wary, then gave an "oomph" as she dropped into his lap.

"I can accept your 'medical condition,'" she told him. "And I'd like to spend my life, however long it is, with you. Now, if you wouldn't mind, would you make love to me please?" She slid her arms around his shoulders. "I know we still have talking to do, but I really need to feel close to you again. I've felt so cold and scared inside since you left."

Bastien felt some of the numbness that had claimed him for the last three weeks slip away, and compassion took its place. That was how he'd felt; cold and scared, alone inside. It was like all happiness had gone out of his life along with her. Bastien let his arms slide around her waist, and he dipped his head to kiss her.

She was warm in his arms, and sweet on his lips, but it wasn't until she sighed into his mouth that Bastien felt passion begin to creep warily into him. He'd missed her. He'd missed touching her, talking to her, just being with her. And he'd missed her sighs, her moans, and the way her body moved against his.

Bastien let a hand slide from her waist up to her breast, and he squeezed gently, a small sigh sliding out as she arched her body and moaned in response. He could almost feel the protective ice that had formed around his heart three weeks ago cracking and crum¬bling away. It left his chest aching. He now under¬stood the phrase "I love you so much it hurts." His heart did hurt, and only Terri could soothe it.

"Terri," he murmured, breaking their kiss and trailing his lips over her cheek. "I need you."

"I need you, too." There was a catch in her voice as she admitted it, an excited breathless sound. Then she caught her fingers in his hair and forced his mouth to hers, kissing him with the passion he remembered and yearned for. The ache in his heart eased, but now the rest of his body ached in its place.

Bastien wanted her badly, and didn't think he could be gentle and caring and considerate about it. His instincts urged him to rip at her clothes and bury himself deep inside her. The hand at her breast shifted to the buttons down the front of her blouse, working them carelessly and popping several in his impatience to feel her skin. It was a relief to get the top open. Then he found himself frustrated by the black satin bra she wore underneath. Terri immedi¬ately reached between them and unsnapped the front hook, allowing the material to gape open. Bastien was on those breasts at once, his hands covering and then squeezing the warm soft skin. He broke away and closed his mouth over one erect nipple.

"We should move to the couch," he muttered against her skin.

"No," Terri murmured--and he felt disappoint¬ment shift through him as she suddenly slid away and out of his reach. But it seemed Terri wasn't in the mood for much foreplay, either. Before he could suf¬fer disappointment for long, or even move, she settled back onto his lap, this time straddling him.

"You wore a skirt again," he breathed against her breast, then licked at the erect nipple in his face. He ran one hand lightly up her stockinged thigh. "But these will get in the way."

"No, they won't," she assured him. Terri took his hand and guided it up under her skirt to her hip.

Bastien's eyes widened. Those weren't panty hose, but true stockings. And she wasn't wearing any pant¬ies. He groaned against her breast, then caught her nipple in his mouth and slid his hands over her bare bottom, wondering how soon would be too soon to enter her.

Terri answered that question by shifting and reach¬ing between them to undo his pants. "I need you now, Bastien."

"Thank God," he muttered, sliding one hand be¬tween her legs to caress her. He found that she was indeed warm and wet and ready for him.

The moment Terri freed him from his trousers, she brushed his hand away from between her legs and moved, repositioning herself so that she could guide herself onto him.

"Terri..." Bastien groaned as she sank slowly down to take him into her. Her wet heat closed around him.

"Yes," she breathed, lifting herself off and sliding back down.

"Damn." His mouth fastened on her neck and he sucked urgently; then he felt his teeth try to slip out to bite her. He forced them back and turned his mouth to her lips instead. Terri kissed back just as hungrily, her body sliding against his as she raised and lowered herself. Her languid rhythm was driving him crazy. He needed fast and hard after so long without her.

Pushing her skirt farther upward and out of the way, he fastened his hands on her hips and urged her on.

Astride him, Terri broke the kiss on a gasp and caught her hand at the back of Bastien's head, urging his mouth against her skin. The tension inside her was building to unbearable levels.

"Bastien, please!" she gasped, begging for release. He almost had her there. Then she felt his teeth sink into her, and she stiffened in surprise.

Terri stopped moving, her body gone taut as she trembled on the knife edge of excitement, but he continued to pump into her as he sucked at her neck. Suddenly, pleasure exploded through her. Wondrous, ecstatic pleasure. Terri cried out, her arms clenching around his neck and shoulders, and her whole body jerking in his arms. Wave after wave of release rode her until Terri didn't think she could stand it any¬more, then darkness crowded in.

"You fainted."

Terri blinked her eyes open at those words and stared up at Bastien, then glanced around. He'd moved her to the couch. She was lying on it, her clothing in disarray, while he sat on the edge brushing the hair back from her face with his gentle fingers.

"You bit me," she said with disbelief.

He grimaced. "I'm sorry, I tried not to, but you forced my head back to your neck and I--"

"It's okay," she said quickly to stop his apology. Then she sighed. "Jeez. Kate said it was something, but that was an understatement."

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

Terri nodded slowly. She felt all right. She felt bet¬ter than all right. She felt excellent. Her eyes sought his. "I love you, Bastien. I'm sorry for the last three weeks, but I needed time to accept. It was all so easy, so natural from the start. Like some sort of fairy-tale romance."

"Then it turned into a horror," he said.

"No. Not a horror," Terri said, then admitted, "Well, okay, maybe a little horrorish, but that was only because your explanation--"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted. He gave a slight laugh and ran one hand through his hair. "Can you believe I had to explain it to Rachel for Etienne, because he was flubbing it? Then I turned around and flubbed it with you. I guess it's harder to be smart when it really matters. And it did--does--matter to me."

"I know. I understand," Terri assured him. She eased up into a sitting position. She was surprisingly light-headed.

"In my excitement, I got a little carried away," Bastien told her apologetically. "It won't happen again."

"Are you kidding?" she cried. "I sincerely hope it does. That was..." Terri shook her head. It was mind-blowing.

Bastien smiled slightly, but said, "Terri, I do love you. But I'm not perfect, and I've made mistakes, and will make lots more over the years. I'm sorry I--"

"Shh." She hushed him and took his face between her hands. "No one's perfect, I'm not perfect, and you're not perfect, Bastien. But you're perfect for me."

They kissed gently, and Bastien pulled back and eyed her. "So, what are you doing for the next forty to fifty years?"

"Hmm." Terri smiled. "Actually, I don't have any plans at the moment. I just quit my job and sold my cottage, so I'm rather at loose ends."

"Yeah?" He grinned. "Would you care to spend them with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Terri said with a smile.

"Hmm." His expression turned solemn, telling her what was coming was important to him. Bastien brushed one finger down her cheek, then asked, "Would you care to make it four to five hundred years or more? There's a lot to do in this world, and it would be nice to do it all together."

Terri raised a hand to caress his cheek in return, and nodded. "I think I'd like that."