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who knew her for what she was and could never trust her, felt the effect of the utter sensuality she exuded. Mitch hadn’t any previous experience with another female of our kind and I feared his response to her.
    His face lit up with a boyish smile as his eyes searched mine. “Why, Mrs. Greer,” he drawled, enjoying the moment immensely, “I do believe you’re jealous.”
    â€œNow, why would I be . . . ?” I started, then returned his grin with a smile of my own. “Yes, you’re right. I am jealous.”
    â€œGood.” His smile faded with that one word.
    â€œGood?”
    â€œYeah, it almost makes up for all the other men in your life.”
    â€œMitch, my love, there’s never been anyone else since we met. You know that.”
    He frowned. “Except of course for all the men you had in England while I was institutionalized.”
    â€œMitch, that’s just plain cruel. I was not talking of food; I was talking of love. Surely you know the difference by now.”
    â€œI try, Deirdre.”
    I reached out and touched his cheek gently. “Yes, you do. And you are getting better. Now, speaking of love . . .” Dropping the spread I had wrapped around me, I grabbed the waistband of his jeans and pulled him to me.
    â€œAnd food.” His voice was warm and husky against my hair.
    â€œAnd food,” I agreed. “I believe you made quite an interesting proposition before we were interrupted.”
    â€œSo I did,” Mitch said and pulled me down to the floor with him. Rolling on top of me, he hesitated. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”
    â€œAs if you could.”
    Mitch’s eyes lit with passion. He eased his jeans off and lay on top of me for a while, not moving. Then he began to nuzzle the side of my neck, gently at first with just his lips and tongue. His mouth traveled to my breasts, teasing each nipple with his front teeth, but not using his sharpening canines, not yet. I gasped when he reached between my legs, probing and stroking until I felt ready to melt. Time seemed suspended as he continued his ministrations, touching, licking, nipping.
    Finally, not wanting to wait for him any longer, I reached down, guiding him inside me. And as he plunged deep within me, his mouth came down on my neck, his bite punctured my skin and I screamed, past caring about where I was and who might hear. He continued thrusting into me and I felt the blood rushing through my veins to answer his kiss. My own teeth sharpened and found his neck, pulling his blood into my mouth, savoring the rich and salty taste that was his alone.
    The only sound in the room was our muffled sucking and the slapping of our sweaty bodies together. We continued for a long time, an eternity it seemed, making love and drinking from each other, constantly stoking our passion, continually renewing our strength. Then he withdrew his mouth from my neck and I did the same. He kissed me. The taste of my blood on his tongue was intriguing, enticing and I shuddered over and over as our bodies reached their endless climaxes.
    When it was over, he rolled from me with a sigh. “You know,” he said, finally, his voice low and breathless, “that has got to be against the law.”
    My laugh was shaky. “Yes, but we are, after all, consenting adults.”
    â€œEven so.”
    I snuggled into his side and he rested his hand lightly against my hip.
    â€œI hope we didn’t disturb the rest of the Cadre.” He sounded smug and unconcerned.
    â€œLike hell you do. You wouldn’t have wanted Vivienne to miss out on what a great catch you are.”
    â€œDeirdre,” he slapped me playfully on the thigh, “I like you like this.”
    â€œLike what? All sweaty and sticky?”
    â€œNo, jealous. It makes me feel wanted.”
    I gave him a little push, got up from the floor and stared down at him. “You should never have any doubt about that. But