"HERE IS A list of questions," Ava told Kincaid, handing over a sheet of paper. "I want you to ask around Mr. Thomas's neighbors, and discover how his blue blood status became known. He was barely into the first thirst, so he can't have been infected with the craving virus for long. Maybe a month. Maybe two. He might not have even known he was infected until recently."

"And you?"

She looked at him, and he saw the hesitation in her eyes, as if she still saw that vile man throwing blood over her. "I think it best if I stayed here at the guild and discussed the findings of the other deaths with Dr. Gibson, to acquaint myself with the case. The riot's barely settled. Evening's falling. The last thing the residents of Fitzrovia want to see is my pale face."

Kincaid shrugged, examining the list of questions she'd given him. "They're the ones missing out." There was a long moment of silence, and he looked up, realizing her eyes were upon him, a hesitant expression upon her pretty heart-shaped face. "What?"

"Nothing."

He lowered the list. "I'm fairly certain that wasn't 'nothing.' You're the worst liar I've ever encountered." Every hint of thought shifted across her expression with startling clarity. She should never play cards for money.

"No... I just.... Was that a compliment?"

The fact she had to ask made him feel a little angry on her behalf. "Of course it was a compliment. You're beautiful, and kind, and any man should be pleased to see you."

Ava smiled thinly, hurt gleaming in her big, green eyes. "Sometimes it's hard for me to tell, especially when it comes from you, because you're so flippant. And... men generally pay me few compliments. Except for Byrnes," she finished in an exasperated tone, "but one generally takes what he says as a somewhat brutal truth, rather than flirtation, and he was always focused on how clever I was."

"You have feelings for him still."

"I don't even know what I feel," Ava admitted, a considering frown on her face as though she was dissecting the facts of a case, rather than her feelings. "I like Ingrid. And I care for Byrnes. And when I look at the pair of them, I can see how well suited they are. I get this lump in my throat, because seeing how in love they are makes me happy for them...."

"But?"

Ava glanced up from beneath her blonde lashes. "There is also a part of me that aches, and asks 'when is it my turn?' Something horrible happened to me several years ago, and when I escaped, Byrnes was kind to me, and Byrnes is rarely kind to anyone. He accepted me for who I am, and I never felt as though I had to pretend to be someone else with him. But I realized what I feel when he looks at me is safe. And when he looks at Ingrid I see something else, and suddenly I don't know if 'safe' is a big enough word for what I want."

Jaysus. "You want to fall in love."

That right there ought to stop this strange fascination with her. Virgins were forbidden territory. Bluestockings had never caught his attention. But women who were looking to fall in love had to be avoided like the plague.

And yet....

And yet.

Curse her. His eyes narrowed, and he slid his hands into his pockets. Ava was the least foolish woman he'd ever met, despite her fascination with fairy tales. She was everything wrong. Against all his self-imposed rules.

"Ava, far be it from me to comment on your situation, but hopin' to find a man who tolerates your eccentricities ain't bloody good enough. You deserve better than that. You deserve a man who loves you because you babble on about bloody plants, not despite the fact you do. You deserve someone who thinks you hung the moon in the sky, and looks forward—every day—to coming home to you."

Her eyes were wide. "Thank you."

Kincaid looked away, across the foyer of the guild. "Byrnes didn't deserve you."

And now it was her turn to sound uncomfortable. "I know."

He shot her a sharp look.

"He had four years to notice what was beneath his nose. He didn't. Clearly he wasn't the right man for me. I'm starting to see that now. Maybe... maybe it was a good thing?" Her words became a little firmer. "His friendship—and Ingrid's—is important to me. But you're right—you've always been right. I deserve more. I deserve better. I deserve someone who is going to love me for everything I am."

"You'll find him," Kincaid replied, and damn him, but he felt a hot surge of... something flood up inside him.

"In the meantime, I am considering other options," she admitted.

He didn't like those words at all.

"Other options?" he ground out.

"Well, it's no secret the state of my... ah, experience, is significantly limited. And I was talking to Perry at the wedding about the sad status of my life. She proposed an experiment."

"An experiment?" Was she suggesting what he thought she was?

"Are you all right?" Ava peered up at him curiously. "You keep repeating everything I say."

Kincaid stared at her; all those layers of muslin skirts, the way her hair drooped in its chignon, the mass of curls barely tamed by her pins. Trussed up like a porcelain doll, and a thought went through his head: Ava was a pretty pigeon, ripe for plucking.

And some man would take advantage of her.

"Just what, precisely, are you proposin' to set about? An experiment in what?"

Despite her confession of gentlemen avoiding her like the plague, there were men out there who'd not hesitate to snatch her up. Men who'd lie through their teeth just to get her in bed, who'd not take the care she needed, and break her heart without a second thought.

Men who didn't deserve a woman like Ava.

"Well, you don't have to get angry," she said, looking startled. "I'm hardly going to ruin myself. I'm just... curious. I'm a virgin and a spinster, and I think I would like to relieve myself of one of those titles—"

It was exactly what he'd expected. "Are you out of your mind?"

Ava stiffened. "Well, that's somewhat hypocritical coming from a man like you. Need I point out you were escorting a rather imposing young woman in the gardens at the back of a house of pleasure when you came upon me suffering a... a hysterical moment? You might think I was born yesterday, but I know exactly what you intended with her that night."

"Is this because of the wedding?" he asked incredulously.

Now it was her turn to get angry. "It's not because of the wedding in the way you're thinking. But it made me consider where my life is heading. And do you know what the answer to that question is? Nowhere. My life is heading nowhere. All I can see ahead of me are endless years in a laboratory—which is intellectually stimulating, don't get me wrong—but somewhat lacking in warmth. Do you know how long it's been since someone touched me? Do you know how many years have passed since my last kiss? Which, needless to say was disappointing, to say the least. I want love. I want something else. And if I cannot find love, then why not settle for passion?"

Jaysus. Kincaid stared at her, the vein in his temple throbbing in time to the heated pulse in his cock. He'd always liked Ava, but to see her temper aroused lit everything inside him on fire. He wanted to kiss her.

Right here.

Right now.

Despite the fact they were standing in the middle of the guild.

"Do you have some objection?" Ava demanded, tilting that pointed chin up.

Not an objection, no. Not to exploring her curiosity, and learning what passion felt like. The problem was... where would she look for it? "How do you even know you could trust a stranger? What if the bloodlust overcame you and you went for his throat? And he wasn't expecting it?"

Ava's lips thinned, pinkness creeping into her cheeks. "I haven't given the idea a great deal of thought, I'll admit, but... in my brief experience with men, I've found one type of lust precludes the other."

"And what is your brief experience?"

She stared at him.

And suddenly he knew exactly what she was thinking about. That night in the Garden of Eden lingered between them. His breath exploded out of him. "Me. You were thinking of me, and what happened that night."

"Nothing did happen."

Kincaid ground his teeth together and crossed his arms over his chest. "Deny it all you want. There was a moment that night when I was tempted to kiss you, a moment where you touched me, and you were thinking about it too. And let's be honest. Ever since then you've not been shy in staring at me when you think I'm not looking. Pretend all you like, kitten. I know you shiver when I touch you. I know you blush every time I look at you. I know you think wicked thoughts whenever I flirt with you. It's written all over your face, in the catch of your breath, the way your cheeks flush with heat." He reached out and caressed said cheek. "The way they've pinkened now."

Ava broke free from beneath his touch, taking several paces away from him with her arms wrapped around her middle as she sucked in an enormous breath. It wasn't a rejection. He turned to watch her, and she suddenly spun around, looking like a startled doe. Her eyes were black, a sure sign she felt the press of the hunger rise within her. Animal passions, she'd called it once. Bloodlust. Or just plain lust. He'd slowly learned the difference.

Do not do it.

Do not say it.

"If you want to lose your virginity," Kincaid snarled, his cock giving a tempting stir behind the flap of his trousers as he took a step closer to her, the distance between them evaporating into a heated space. "Then you don't need a stranger. I'm right here."

Ava's eyes widened. "What?"

"I'll give you time to think about it," he snapped, despite the thought this was a terrible idea. Kincaid waved the list of questions at her, feeling both utterly furious and aroused. "If you want passion, then I can give you passion, and you won't have to worry about what a stranger might do to you. It's a perfectly logical, rational decision, therefore it should appeal perfectly."

Then he turned and stormed out before he saw the answer on her face.

* * *

"If you want to lose your virginity, then you don't need a stranger. I'm right here."

Oh, God. What had she done? What had she said? Ava slammed Dr. Erasmus Cremorne's diaries closed, unable to concentrate on them or the task at hand. She'd used them to research the transformation from blue blood to dhampir when Byrnes's life hung in the balance, and only her ability to create the elixir vitae herself and give him the next doses had been able to save him. She'd wanted to find if there was any mention of something that might affect the dhampir in a Black Vein way, but Kincaid's words kept ringing in her ears.

A perfectly logical, rational decision? Ha! What was logical about this incessant ache? She could barely think. She'd read the same page several times over, until the words all blended into each other.

Who did he think he was?

Ava pressed her fingers to her temples. He'd given her time to think about it, and so that was what she was going to do. She wanted Kincaid. He was correct in that assumption. She'd wanted him in some sort of physical way ever since he’d looked at her that night and told her to touch him. But what about... all the problems that might arise if she let him be her lover?

They were working a case together.

She'd see him every day, regardless of how this ended.

What if there was some argument? Some unpleasantness? She could not escape him if there was, and she liked her new job working for Malloryn. It gave her purpose, and a sense of excitement.

And speaking of Malloryn, he certainly wouldn't approve.

Ava sighed, going to make herself another pot of tea. She needed to weigh up the advantages and disadvantages of the situation.

Lust was not always enough.

Though it was a very, very convincing argument.

* * *

"Here's something," Kincaid said, striding into the laboratory at Malloryn's safe house and finding Ava curled up in an armchair, asleep, with a cold cup of tea sitting beside her. He'd spent six hours questioning Mr. Thomas's neighbors, though he had to admit he'd been distracted.

Who wouldn't be when the one woman who got under his skin professed a sudden desire to lose her virginity?

He paused as he stared down at her.

She'd tucked her feet up underneath her skirts, and her head rested on her outflung arm, a diary of sorts in her lap. It looked terribly uncomfortable, but for a moment, looking down into her heart-shaped face, he had a feeling of... something. And it vexed him to not know what that something was.

"Ava?" He shook her gently.

It was like watching the sun dawn on the horizon; a flicker of her lashes, her eyes blinking sleepily as awareness came back into her face. The faintest of smiles when she saw him. "Kincaid?"

"Sleeping Beauty," he murmured, caught for a moment in the spell of seeing her like this.

"Pardon?" She was swiftly rousing, and his statement clearly flummoxed her enough to get that clever little mind working. "Are you speaking of fairy tales?"

"It seemed to suit the situation," he replied with a soft smile as he sank into the armchair opposite her. "All it needed was one kiss to truly wake her. And I know how much you like the idea of them."

Ava blinked at him, and just like magic, her cheeks turned rosy.

Kincaid waited for her to refer to their earlier argument—and his proclamation. It was written all over her, but she swallowed, and then cleared her throat. "Did you... did you question the neighbors?"

Ah, business then. He smiled at her, unfooled by her redirection. She hadn't said no, and she needed time to think about it.

He could be patient.

"I did."

"And?"

"A curious thing," he said. "Mr. Thomas only discovered three days ago he was stricken with the craving virus. It's a very interesting tale. He was most shocked, hence why the woman who did his washing knew."

"Shocked?"

He could understand the question. With a single drop of blood able to transmit the craving virus, most people who developed it knew they were at risk, or at least suspected. There was usually an altercation. Or a man or woman was paid for blood, or sex, or sometimes both. "With good reason," he said, passing her a small piece of paper. "This is the vaccination certificate for Mr. David Thomas, who attended the clinic on St. Paul's Street. Six weeks ago, he received a vaccination for the craving virus. He was rabidly anti-blue blood. A humanist through and through."

Ava sat up abruptly, peering at the certificate. "But that's.... Then how did he get the craving? The vaccination is quite safe. It's been thoroughly tested. And we've had no evidence of anyone coming down with the craving postvaccination."

Kincaid scratched at his jaw. "Did he have the craving before he received the vaccination?"

She started pacing, her skirts dragging behind her, and a lovely little frown drawn between her pale brows. Those stockinged toes sank into the carpets. "Now you've mentioned it, I cannot help but recall seeing something about a vaccination somewhere. Dr. Gibson showed me the files on the other victims, and I swear there was a note in there. I'll have another look for it. They're in my rooms."

"Are you certain?" She looked exhausted, despite the fact it was night, and therefore a blue blood’s “day.”

Ava waved him off, already turning back toward the autopsy rooms. "I'm certain. There's no use in me seeking my bed tonight, not with all these questions circling through my head. I'll be awake all night, staring at the ceiling. Might as well have a look. I'll see you on the morrow."

Then she was gone, leaving him alone in the armchair with an unanswered question in the forefront of his mind.