“He what?”

“You heard right.”

“What an asshole! He has no business rejecting you. He should be grateful that you even considered him. Who does he think he is?”

The hottest guy she’d ever laid eyes on, Portia wanted to scream but refrained from the urge, not wanting to give Lauren more ammunition to use against her.

“Exactly,” she tossed out instead.

“He can’t get away with that! How dare he treat you like you’re a wallflower? Jerk!” Lauren pounded her fist on the table, making the trays on it rattle. A student sitting close by glanced at them, before dropping his head back into his book.

“You can have any man you want, Portia.” Lauren let her eyes glide over Portia’s body. “You’re pretty, you have a great body, nice boobs. Any guy would be happy to do you.”

Portia cringed at the crude words.

“Sorry,” Lauren said sheepishly. “I’m just calling it the way it is.”

“Right.” But Portia didn’t want any guy; she wanted Zane.

He was the first man who’d ever made her feel anything. Her body had hummed under his touch, his kiss so searing hot she’d thought she’d go up in flames. With him, she wasn’t afraid that her first time would be some tepid, clinical affair. If Zane touched her and made her a woman, she knew she would enjoy it despite what he’d warned her about.

She didn’t believe that he would be cruel to her. His kiss hadn’t been cruel. On the contrary, he’d coaxed her. Yes, he’d been demanding, but he’d waited until she’d allowed him to go further. And when he’d licked her fangs, she’d practically exploded. She’d had no idea how arousing it was to have another vampire caress her fangs like this. With so much gentleness, yet so much passion.

“What will I do now?” Portia lifted her head and stared at her friend.

Lauren gave a resigned smile. “Are you sure I can’t talk you out of this?”

Portia nodded. “I want him.”

“What exactly did he say when he rejected you? And be specific; don’t leave anything out. Every word is important.”

Trusting in her friend’s experience with men, Portia nudged forward on her chair and lowered her voice. There was no need for anybody to overhear what she had to say.

Chapter Twelve

When Portia heard the front door opening without having heard a car drive up, she knew it was Zane. She wondered why he didn’t drive but walked instead. It could only mean that he didn’t live far. She made a mental note to put Lauren on the task of finding out where he lived. She was sure that Lauren, as the mayor’s daughter, had a way of finding out Zane’s address. There was a chance it could come in handy one day. She wasn’t going to leave anything up to chance.

Portia glanced in the mirror. Her low-rider jeans showed off her flat stomach, and the t-shirt was at least a size too small and short enough to leave her midriff bare while it stretched tightly over her boobs. She had to admit that Lauren was right: she had decent boobs, full and round, and actually a little more shapely than most of her fellow students.

As a hybrid, she had developed faster during her teens, and her body was more mature than that of a nearly twenty-one-year-old human. Just as well: it would be dreadful to be stuck with a gangly teenage body for the rest of her life. But the body she had now, she could work with.

One way or another, Zane would give in to her. Even if she had to throw herself at him. She had five weeks left, and during those five weeks she would chisel away his resistance. No man could be that stoic and say no to something that was dangled in front of his nose every single night, not even Zane. He would crack sooner or later. Did that make her just a tad desperate?

Portia blew out a big breath and planted her legs wider apart, placed her hands on her hips and tried a seductive look in the mirror. She cringed. Maybe she needed a little more practice with that look. It didn’t appear quite right yet, unless Zane was turned on by a cheesy grin accompanied by some waggling eyebrows. Maybe some more lipstick, she mused, and twisted the cap off her latest acquisition. As she dabbed her lips with more of the blood-red color, she knew she couldn’t stall any longer. The night wouldn’t last forever, and eventually Zane would be gone to be replaced by Oliver again.

Her hands clammy, she turned the door handle and left her room. Her heart beat so loudly, she was sure Zane could hear it downstairs in the living room. Slowly, she walked down the stairs, her bare feet making barely any sound. Only the creaking of several steps echoed through the old house. When she reached the landing, she could tell from Zane’s stiff posture sitting in an armchair that he’d already heard her.