Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampire Legacy) by Sharon Hamilton Page B

in a room lit by candles. She knew she wouldn’t have to be careful not to hurt him. She saw him feeding on her neck as she fed on his. Her face flushed. He smiled.
    “Are you spying on me? Following me around? At night?” Her cheeks flushed as she recalled her erotic dreams.
    “Oh, yes, I admit it. But don’t worry about your safety. I’m actually going to help you protect your husband. There are those of our kind who don’t think you should be married to a mortal. People are watching you.”
    “I think it’s creepy so many people want to insert themselves into my life. What did I ever do to them? Why me?”
    “Because of who you are and what you represent.”
    “Well, I want to be left alone. To live my life as I see fit. Without all this baggage. I didn’t ask for this.”
    “I believe you. I promise not to interfere. But, Anne, you must accept the fact that you have changed, and you need someone to help you along with this change. I would like to be that person. I will promise not to be inappropriate. You won’t do anything you don’t want to. You won’t be unfaithful to your ‘husband,’ if that is your choosing. I won’t ask that of you.”
    “I do have questions, but I don’t think this is a good idea.”
    “Let me earn your trust. I won’t ask you to compromise your standards. I am discreet.”
    Like hell you are. You’re about as discreet as an ambulance with a screaming siren running through a playground filled with children. The things I think about when I’m with you. I seem to not have a will of my own.
    Anne fiddled with a seam on her jacket. She noted Marcus had five buttons on his shirt, all mother of pearl, except that one which was slightly grey in color and didn’t match the others. And then there might be another mismatched button, but it was tucked into . . . into . . . wait. There were thirteen people in the coffee shop and they had made twenty-six espresso drinks in the last fifteen minutes, which meant they sold one hundred four espresso drinks an hour, at an average price of three dollars and sixty-five cents, that would mean $379 and thirty . . . no . . . sixty cents per hour just on the espresso . . .
    “Please?” His words brought her back to their conversation. “I have nothing but the best of intentions. Honest.”
    “My better judgment says no.”
    He leaned forward and collapsed his fingers together, which he then tented on his lap. “Trust your heart, then.”
    There it was again, the battle between logic and emotion. She looked up. There must be something else that needed to be inventoried. She started scanning the room again.
    He placed his hand on hers. “Stop counting.”
    She stared at him, stunned. How did he know?
    “Have just a little trust in me. I will not hurt you in any way, and I won’t have you do something you will ever live to regret. Ever.”
    “You promise?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “I’m still not convinced.”
    “That’s my job.”
    She knew he would not have any trouble with this. The tough front she was showing was in actuality paper-thin. Her resistance was futile. “This meeting turned out much different than I thought it would. I don’t usually talk to strange men.”
    He chuckled. “Not polite to talk with your mouth full.”
    “That was awful! Stop that.” But she was smiling inside and couldn’t help but show him on the outside.
    “Well, this was a good start. It’s good to see you can find the humor in our . . . our . . . situation.” He patted her hand but did not grab it. “But one thing can stay as planned.”
    “And what is that?” She watched a glow cover his face. His full, deep rose-colored lips curved up at the ends, forming a seductive smile and showing just the tip of one white fang. He had no right to look at her that way, to melt her to the core. Unable to help herself, she focused on those lips as he formed his answer.
    “I am still willing to be your meal.”
     

Chapter 9
     
    “And where would you