“Kiss the center of my desire,” Bridget breathed.

Turner smiled. This, like many other little things, hinted that his lady was a product of a different generation. It wasn’t that she was shy, Bridget was the most assertive and confident woman he’d ever had the pleasure of being with, but she refused to use the vulgar language of today’s generation.

Victor appreciated that.

Other men might have found contemporary vernacular sexy, and he didn’t have a problem with that or look down on those who enjoyed it—to each his or her own—but personally, he preferred Bridget’s refinement.

Cupping her heart-shaped buttocks, he licked into her.

Bridget lifted up, giving him better access.

Impatient to be inside her, he launched a coordinated assault, using his fingers and his tongue, going hard and fast and bringing her to a quick orgasm.

For a change, he didn’t bother folding his clothes, letting them land in a heap on the floor. If he didn’t get inside Bridget in the next second, he was going to explode.

Climbing on the hospital bed, he grabbed her hips and lifted her bottom up.

She widened her stance, the exposure wrenching a strangled groan from his throat. In one powerful thrust, he seated himself all the way inside her.

Heaven. Home. He and Bridget were in perfect harmony.

Sucking in a breath, Turner stilled. If he started moving now, it would be over in moments.

She pushed back into him, greedy for every fraction of an inch, then swiveled her hips, grinding her beautiful ass into his groin.

He gripped her hips harder, holding her in place. “Patience, my love. Give me a moment if you don’t want it to be over in thirty seconds flat.”

With a gasp, she stopped immediately, and it took him a couple of seconds to realize that it hadn’t been in response to his command.

Turner threw his head back and hissed out a breath.

Hell of a time and position to finally admit his feelings to the woman. But the thing was, he hadn’t internalized the shift that had been gradually happening, or rather hadn’t verbalized it even inside his own head.

Draping himself over Bridget, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek to hers. “I have great timing, don’t I? I couldn’t have chosen a less romantic delivery if I tried.”

“Did you mean it?”

He nuzzled her cheek. “Yes. Subconsciously, in my heart, I knew I loved you for a while, but I was too set in my old ways to internalize it inside my head.”

Bridget pushed back against him until he had to pull out of her, and then turned around to lie on her back.

“Come here.” She opened her arms.

Turner practically fell upon her, crushing her with his body. But Bridget didn’t seem to mind, holding him to her in what felt like the unbreakable embrace of iron bands.

“I love you too. I knew it in my heart and my mind, but I was too chicken to admit it.” She sighed. “It was so stupid of me. I wasted precious time.”

He lifted his head and kissed her lips. “Nothing was wasted. Those are just words. What matters is that we are together.”

“Make love to me, Victor.”

He did. Twice.

There would have been a third time, but after her third orgasm of the night, Bridget succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep.

Turner got dressed, and then did the same for the sleeping Bridget. It was like dressing up a mannequin. From her bra and panties to her dress and shoes, she didn’t crack an eyelid. The woman was out like a light.

As he carried her to their future house in the village, it occurred to him that he hadn’t felt such vigor in years. He’d made love to Bridget twice with barely any pause in between, and he’d been ready for the third moments after climaxing for the second time. The nap couldn’t have been responsible for that. And carrying Bridget felt effortless. She was a small woman, but he’d carried her on other occasions, and it hadn’t been as easy.

Lifting his leg, he opened the front door by depressing the handle with his foot, then closed it by giving it a slight kick. He passed Julian’s closed door and entered the master bedroom the same way he’d done with the front door.

Everything was easy, effortless.

Kian must have done something to him. The guy had been behaving suspiciously the entire time.

After undressing Bridget, Turner tucked her in bed, and then walked outside and sat on a lounge chair.

There was a puzzle he needed to solve.

Why had Kian chosen Turner as his drinking buddy when he should’ve been celebrating with his clan?

And his explanation for the martinis was bullshit. The other immortal males had been drinking whiskey straight from the bottle and not attempting to act gentlemanly at all.

Turner smoothed two fingers over one side of his neck and then the other. What if Kian had decided to induce him in secret?

That was the only explanation that made sense to him.

He shouldn’t have passed out from four girly cocktails.

Kian must’ve slipped something into the drinks. It was easier to do with a sweet-tasting cocktail than with straight up whiskey or vodka or even beer. Those were familiar tastes and any foreign substance, unless it was tasteless and odorless, would have been easily detected.

The guy must’ve waited until Turner passed out, carried him to his house, and bitten him there, away from prying eyes.

But why?

Bridget had said that if Turner wasn’t a Dormant, the venom could actually help him. Was Kian trying to test that theory?

But why in secret?

Turner smoothed his hand over his bald head. Perhaps Kian didn’t want people to know. But that didn’t make sense either. He had personally induced Roni. Turner was no less valuable than the hacker, probably more, and Kian was well aware of that.

Had he done it to spare Bridget anguish?

If she didn’t know Turner had been induced, she wouldn’t worry.

Except, that wasn’t like Kian. He was a good guy, but he wasn’t all that sensitive or empathetic.

Hell, what was he missing?

Kian had bitten him, Turner was almost sure of that. The only thing he couldn't figure out was the guy’s motive for doing so in secret.

The implications, however, were disastrous.

If Kian’s venom made Turner feel like a young man in his prime but had failed to induce his transition, it meant that he wasn’t a Dormant.

He was a plain old human.