Night's Touch (48 page)

He inclined his head in her direction. "Good evening. I trust you found everything you needed."

"Yes." Her fingers clenched around the brush. It was hard to speak past the lump of fear in her throat. "Thank you." Though why she should thank him was beyond her. He had brought her here without her consent, after all.

He took a step into the room.

She took a step back.

He lifted one brow. "Are you afraid of me now?"

"How did I get here? Why am I here?"

"I brought you here because I wanted you here."

"Why didn't I wake up?"

"Because I did not wish you to."

The fear in her throat moved downward and congealed in her stomach. She started to ask another question, but before she could form the words, he was standing in front of her, only inches away. She gasped, startled. She hadn't seen him move.

"I will not hurt you, my best beloved one."

"Where are we?"

"This is my house."

"But where are we?"

"Ah. We are in a distant corner of Maine."

"So, I'm your prisoner now."

"You are my guest."

"A guest who can't leave. Sounds like prison to me."

"We need time to get to know each other again. I will not be shut out of your life this time. I will not share you with another. This time, you will believe. This time, you will be mine."

"So you're going to keep me locked up inside this house?" She stared down at her hands, noticing, for the first time, that she was holding the brush so tightly, her knuckles were white. "And what if I believe and I still don't want you? Still don't want to be what you say you are?"

"Then I will let you go."

AFTER SUNDOWN

Edward Ramsey has spent his life hunting vampires.

Now he is one of them.

Yet Edward's human conscience—and his heart—compel him to save beautiful Kelly Anderson.

After dinner, they drove to the beach and walked barefoot along the shore. It was a calm, clear night. The moon painted ever-changing silver shadows on the water.

After a while, they stopped to watch the waves. Ramsey's gaze moved over Kelly. She looked beautiful standing there with the ocean behind her. Moonlight shimmered like molten silver in her hair; her skin looked soft and oh, so touchable. He wished, not for the first time, that he possessed a little of Chiavari's easy charm with women.

"Kelly?" He took a deep breath, the need to kiss her stronger than his need for blood. He knew he should turn away, afraid that one kiss would not be enough. Afraid that a taste of her lips would ignite his hellish thirst. But she was looking up at him, her brown eyes shining in the moonlight, her lips slightly parted, moist, inviting. He cleared his throat. The kisses they had shared at the movies had been much in his mind, but he had lacked the courage to kiss her again, afraid of being rebuffed. "I was thinking about the other night, at the movies…"

"Were you? So was I."

"What were you thinking?" he asked.

"I was thinking maybe we should kiss again—you know, to see if it was as wonderful as I remember."

"Kelly…" He swept her into his arms, a part of him still expecting her to push him away or slap his face or laugh out loud, but she did none of those things. Instead, she leaned into him, her head tilting up, her eyelids fluttering down.

And he kissed her, there in the moonlight. Kissed her, and it wasn't enough. He wanted to inhale her, to drink her essence, to absorb her very soul into his own. She was sweet, so sweet. Heat sizzled between them, hotter than the sun he would never see again. Why had he waited so long?

"Oh, Edward…"

She looked up a him, breathless. She was soft and warm and willing. He covered her face with kisses, whispered praises to her beauty as he adored her with his hands and his lips. He closed his eyes, and desire rose up within him, hot and swift, and with it the overpowering urge to feed. He fought against it. He had fed well before coming here, yet the Hunger rose up within him, gnawing at his vitals, urging him to take what he wanted.

"This is crazy," she murmured breathlessly. "We hardly know each other."

"Crazy," he agreed. Her scent surrounded him. The rapid beat of her heart called to the beast within him. He deepened the kiss, at war with himself, felt his fangs lengthen in response to his growing hunger.

Amanda Ashley
is one of those rare birds—a California native. She's lived in Southern California her whole life and, except for the earthquakes, loves it. She shares a home with her husband, as well as a fluffy Pomeranian named Teddi, a mischievous cat named Tigger, and a tortoise who remains nameless. Amanda and her alter ego, Madeline, have written 57 books. Not bad for someone who started writing just for the fun of it. Her books have made the
New York Times
List, the
USA Today
List, and the Waldenbooks Bestseller and Mass Market lists. You can visit her website at www.AmandaAshley.net.