Abigail was the first to wake up. Hot morning sunlight was beating down on her face and blinding her when she first opened her eyes. She threw her arm sleepily over her eyes to protect them, and then just lay still for a minute as she became aware of the sensations she was experiencing.

Warm water was lapping at her right arm and hip. The sand under her was hard and cool, something prickly was tickling the skin of her upper leg, and something heavy was lying on her lower stomach and legs keeping her warm. Abigail was also thirsty as all get-out. Crazy thirsty. She had some serious cottonmouth and could have used a toothbrush followed by a large glass of water right then. She’d follow that up with a buttermilk biscuit, sweet cream waffles, and a side of applewood-smoked bacon, Abigail thought, her mouth watering at the imagined meal. But then memory returned and she knew she’d be making do with coconuts and coconut water. It wasn’t like there was a handy restaurant anywhere nearby.

Dragging the arm from her eyes, Abigail opened them cautiously and looked up at the sky. The sun was high overhead. So much for their hour break. By her guess they’d slept more than eight hours. It looked like it was close to noon. Recalling her watch, she lifted her arm again and surveyed the time. Yep. Eleven thirty a.m. Not only had they slept through the rest of the night, they’d slept away the morning as well. She was a pathetic excuse for a friend. The only bright spot was that Tomasso apparently was too, she thought, and lifted her head to peer down her body at him.

The view afforded to her from this angle was not a pretty one. It wasn’t Tomasso. He was always gorgeous, and even from this angle the top of his head and his wide shoulders looked sexy as hell to her. It was herself that was less than inspiring. She was as pale as the belly of a dead fish, and all of her lumps and bumps were depressing. Even her breasts, which she normally thought were okay, just did not win any prizes squeezed out of the top of her bra as they were. They looked like popping eyeballs in a cartoon.

Grimacing, Abigail quickly pushed her boobs back into the bra and straightened it the best she could. She then tugged her tank top down to just above Tomasso’s head. There was nothing she could do about her jeans being around her ass, though, at least not as long as Tomasso was lying on her. The problem was, if she woke him up, he’d sit up and see her lying there with her va-jay-jay on display. Can we say awkward?

Really? some corner of Abigail’s mind asked with derision. Playing the modesty card now? After what had gone down last night?

Deciding that corner of her mind was a bitch, Abigail considered her situation and how to get out of it. Maybe she could just slide out from under him. If she did it slowly, he might not wake up. Right?

Grimacing now, Abigail braced her hands in the sand on either side of her, one resting on wet sand, one sinking into dry, and then tried to worm herself to the side. All she did was kind of roll her hips a bit, and Tomasso immediately murmured sleepily, smacked his lips as if he was dreaming of pancakes, and then turned and lowered his head so that his mouth was practically kissing her between the legs. The only good thing was she now knew what had been so prickly against her upper leg, Tomasso’s now ten-o’clock shadow. It was now prickly against her inner thigh.

Oh, yeah. This wasn’t going to be awkward at all, Abigail thought sarcastically and wondered what the deal was with this passing out after sex business? Not that they’d actually had sex, she reminded herself. They’d mostly just fooled around a bit.

Abigail smiled wryly at the term. It didn’t seem to cover the earth-shattering experience she’d had. Neither did groping, touching, fondling, or stroking. That may have been what went on, but . . . wow! A little fondling from Tomasso was like a full-on orgy with anyone else. Gawd! She was still wet this morning. Although, to be fair, she was lying half in the surf which might be part of it, Abigail thought. Certainly her jeans were soaking wet from absorbing the water.

But last night, when Abigail’s orgasm had crashed over her, fireworks had exploded behind her eyes. The man had some powerful mojo, and if that’s what some heavy petting with him was like, she couldn’t wait to experience the full meal deal with him.

Just not right now, Abigail thought with a frown. Right now she was becoming aware of a rather urgent need to relieve herself, which meant she had to get out from under Tomasso, get up, and find a private spot to tend to the matter.

Her gaze slid with longing to the jungle at the top of the beach, and then back to the top of Tomasso’s head. Her last move had made him shift his head off of her stomach and between her legs. That was something anyway, Abigail thought and sat up slowly. Once upright, she let out a little huff of relief. She hadn’t disturbed him. Yet.

Grimacing, Abigail considered their positions, then slid one hand under his cheek and began to ease his face up and away from her groin. She’d lifted it perhaps an inch and had just started to try to shift it to the side and off of her when his eyes suddenly snapped open. Abigail froze at once and offered him a weak smile.

“I need to get up,” she explained with embarrassment.

One eyebrow lifted on his forehead. Actually, both might have, but she could only see one at that point, and then Tomasso rolled away from her and launched himself to his feet.

Letting out the breath she’d been holding, Abigail immediately started to try to get to her own feet. It was surprisingly hard to do with your jeans around your upper thighs and she was struggling with it a bit when Tomasso bent and simply grasped her by the waist and lifted her to her feet.

“Thank you, I—” Abigail bit off her own words and grimaced with embarrassment. Not satisfied with helping her up, Tomasso had bent to pull first her panties and then her jeans up for her. He then even did up the fly and button of her jeans as if she were a child. When he finished with the task, he started to straighten, and then paused half upright to press a kiss to her forehead.

“You look bella,” he complimented as he straightened.

Abigail smiled weakly at the comment, suspecting the man was just being kind, then moved past him toward the jungle. “I need to go.”

Apparently Tomasso understood what that meant. At least he didn’t ask questions, but simply let her slip away to find a private spot.

Tomasso followed Abigail up the beach to the edge of the trees. He paused as soon as he reached the shade though. He didn’t want to intrude on her privacy; he’d just needed to get out of the sun. Leaning against the trunk of a large palm tree, he stared out at the ocean, absently rubbing his stomach with one hand.

He felt horrible this morning, worse even than the day before. Unfortunately, he knew exactly why and there was little he could do about it. Tomasso needed blood. Yesterday he’d been suffering mild stomach cramps with the need. Today those cramps had multiplied in strength and spread out. Every organ in his body was being attacked as the nanos that gave him his strength and speed searched for blood to support themselves.

As idyllic as this little aventura with Abigail had been, and it had been delightful at times, Tomasso needed to get to civilization and a blood source. It was that or he might soon lose control and attack Abigail. He didn’t want that. He’d already come too close to doing so last night while he’d made love to her. It was after she’d broken their kiss to cry his name with such need. Eager to fill that need, Tomasso had been kissing her neck as he undid and pushed her jeans down. With his nose against her throat, the scent of her blood had been easily detectable through her skin, and he’d felt its pulse against his lips and tongue. Tomasso’s fangs had immediately slid out and scraped across her skin. Just as he was about to unthinkingly plunge them into her throat, he’d realized what he was doing and had abruptly sat up and shifted to his knees to get his fangs as far away from her throat as he could. After that, he’d allowed himself only to caress her. There had been no more kissing, no more licking and he’d refused to risk making love to her as he wished for fear he might inadvertently bite her in his excitement if he got near her throat again.

Fortunately, Abigail hadn’t seemed to mind. At least not after the first moment or two of surprise. But once he’d placed her hand on the proof of how much her body pleased him, she’d seemed to be fine with this new turn.

Tomasso felt his cock harden at the memory of her firm, silky hand sliding over it and smiled wryly to himself. It was a state he knew he might as well get used to. As his life mate, Abigail would always have that effect on him. Touching her, tasting her, making love to her . . . hell, just thinking about her and looking at her would quickly produce this reaction in him. He’d definitely met his life mate.

Now he just had to hold on to her, Tomasso thought wryly, and suspected losing control and attacking her would not be likely to aid in that endeavor.

Sighing, he pushed away from the tree and headed for the water. It wasn’t good for him to be out in the sun. That would just increase his need for blood, and raise the chances of his losing control, but he needed to cool off and think. He had to get them to civilization quickly, and this walking business was not proving to be much of a success so far.

It wasn’t Abigail’s fault. True, she’d tired quickly last night, but after a brief rest she’d been game to continue walking. It had been his inability to keep his hands off of her that had brought a halt to the walk in the end.

Perhaps he should tie a vine tightly around his penis, he thought. That way any kind of erection would cause him enough agony to kill his excitement. The idea had merit. At least, it was worth a try. Actually, just the threat of that kind of pain might be enough to make him avoid contact with Abigail, Tomasso decided as he dove into the water and began to swim.

“So you dropped out of medical school to look after your mother.”

Abigail glanced to Tomasso at that comment. It wasn’t a question, more a murmured statement, but she nodded anyway.

“I imagine that was hard,” he said solemnly.

“Which part?” she asked wryly. “Dropping out of school was pretty bad. But watching my mom fade away like that . . . ?” She shook her head wearily. “No one should suffer like that. And no child should have to witness it.”

“I’m sorry,” Tomasso murmured and caught her hand briefly in his to give it a squeeze.

Abigail glanced to him with surprise at the show of affection. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. He’d held her hand as they’d walked the night before, and done a lot more than that in the sand afterward, but that had been yesterday. Today—

Tomasso released her hand as if her touch had scalded him, and Abigail had to bite back a sigh as she finished the thought—today, Tomasso had seemed to be going out of his way to avoid any contact with her at all. At least he had after she’d gone off to find her private spot. When she’d first woken up, he’d helped her up, pulled her pants up and even done them up for her, but that was the last time he’d touched her.

Abigail had returned from her brief excursion into the jungle to find him swimming and had decided it was a good idea. But the moment she’d stripped down to her bra and panties and started into the water, he’d got out and said he was going in search of a piece of wood he could use as a spear. This was the same man who had chastised her the day before about swimming alone. Suddenly, her swimming alone was apparently okay.

Abigail had finished her dip quickly and got out of the water, intending to let her bra and panties dry before pulling on her jeans and tank top again. Letting the heavier clothes dry from sleeping in the surf had seemed a good idea too, but Tomasso had insisted he thought she should dress right away. Her clothes would dry on her, he’d said, and it was better to be prepared for anything. So she’d pulled on the damp clothes.

Instead of a spear, Tomasso had returned from his sojourn into the jungle with half a dozen coconuts. She’d supposed he hadn’t been able to find anything to use as a spear. They’d had to make do with the coconuts for breakfast. She hadn’t minded. Fish would have been nice too, but she liked coconut. Besides, when you were hungry and thirsty enough, coconut water and coconut fruit were like manna. However, Tomasso had urged her to eat quickly so they could get on their way. Abigail had been a little surprised at that, since he’d thought traveling at night was better the day before, but she hadn’t said anything, merely drank and ate quickly and stood up to join him when he said it was time to leave.

Now they were walking along the edge of the jungle, slogging through sand, but in the shade and they’d been talking the whole while. Well, truthfully, Tomasso had been asking short questions, and Abigail had been answering, telling him about her life. He hadn’t done much talking at all. He’d listened, grim-faced and pale, and she was beginning to worry that he might be coming down with something serious.

“Your father?” Tomasso said suddenly.

Abigail glanced his way, noting anew that his skin was really, really pale, and that the strained look to his face had intensified. It looked almost as if he were in pain, she thought with a frown.

“You never mention him,” Tomasso added, when she didn’t respond right away.

“Oh. He wasn’t a part of my life,” Abigail muttered, then asked with concern, “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Tomasso said shortly. “Why was he not a part of your life?”

She hesitated, quite sure this new testiness was a sign that Tomasso wasn’t fine at all, but finally explained, “He was Mom’s high school sweetheart who got her pregnant, then wanted her to get an abortion. She refused. She wanted to have me so he dumped her, took off to college and followed that up with moving to California, never to be seen or heard from again.”

“Never?” he asked, sounding shocked at the thought.

Abigail hesitated, but then admitted. “I got a card from him when Mom died. His family in our hometown had heard of her death and had given him the news. Apparently they also told him I was in medical school, which was erroneous since I wasn’t in medical school anymore,” she said bitterly, and then added, “He wanted to come to her funeral and meet me.”

“And?” Tomasso asked.

“And I told him he wasn’t welcome,” she admitted. Pursing her lips, Abigail explained, “To me he’s just a stranger who happened to donate sperm to my existence. He’s never been a part of my life, and I have no interest in his being a part of it now. Besides,” she added with a grimace, “Mom would have rolled in her grave at the thought of his attending her funeral after ignoring us all these years. She never said it, but I know raising me on her own without emotional or monetary help was hard.”

Shrugging, Abigail added, “He just didn’t deserve to be there, and her funeral was hard enough on me without adding him into the mix. I didn’t want to have to deal with that on top of everything else.”

“I can imagine,” Tomasso said quietly.

Abigail fell silent, wondering why she’d told Tomasso about that when she hadn’t told anyone else. Not even Jet knew that her father had contacted her, and she usually told him everything in her letters. But this she’d held back. Strange, she thought, and then decided they needed to change the subject and glanced to him to ask, “Your accent is thick, you were obviously raised in Italy. How old were you when you moved to America?”

“I do not.”

Abigail blinked. “You do not what?”

“Live in America,” he explained. “My home is still in Italy.”

“It is?” she asked with amazement.

“Sì.”

“Oh.” Abigail turned her gaze down to her feet, wondering what that meant. He’d said he’d been taken from a bar in San Antonio and she’d just assumed that he lived there now, but if he still lived in Italy . . . Had he only been in San Antonio because of the kidnappers?

“I visit family in California, New York, and Toronto on occasion, though,” Tomasso added now.

She couldn’t help but notice that San Antonio wasn’t mentioned as someplace he visited. He must have been in the city because of the kidnappers then, she thought. But—

“Wait a minute,” she said suddenly. “If you live in Italy, how did you get involved in this kidnapping thing?”

“My brother and I volunteered to help,” he said.

“Yeah, I know. You told me that,” Abigail pointed out. “But how? Why fly all the way from Italy and—”

“We were in Canada,” Tomasso interrupted.

“Okay,” she drawled in dry tones. “Why fly all the way from Canada then? How did you even hear about kidnappings happening in Texas all the way up in Canada?”

Tomasso frowned briefly, and then muttered, “It is complicated.”

“Yeah, I’ll say. Feds don’t usually involve outsiders in their cases,” she said. “At least I don’t think they do, and—oh!” Abigail gasped with surprise as she tripped over a large palm stem on the beach and nearly tumbled to the ground.

Fortunately, Tomasso immediately caught her arm and drew her against his chest to save her from falling. She went still as she came to rest against him, and so did he, but Abigail could hear his heart thumping under her ear and it was racing as if they’d been running.

Raising her head, she peered uncertainly up at him, saw his head lowering toward her and closed her eyes as his mouth descended on hers. It was like the sunlight after a long winter, or a cool breeze on a boiling day. He’d been so distant with her all day that Abigail hadn’t known what to do or think. She’d worried she’d done something wrong, or that she’d unintentionally said something to offend him. Or perhaps she’d been too easy, turned him off with how quickly she’d given in to him, and how far she’d let him go so soon after meeting.

Abigail had racked her brain trying to figure out what had happened to change things, so this return to their earlier passion was more than a relief. He still wanted her. And she knew he did want her. She could feel the proof of it pressing against her stomach and couldn’t resist brushing her hand lightly over the leafy loincloth barely covering that proof.

Her touch brought a growl from Tomasso’s mouth that reverberated through her own, and then he suddenly picked her up and carried her to the nearest palm tree.

Abigail felt the trunk press against her back, and then blinked her eyes open when he suddenly pulled back slightly. Holding her in place with his lower body pressed to hers, he began to tug at her tank top, dragging it up her body and out of the way. She raised her arms then to allow him to remove it completely and it soon went flying to the sand. Her bra quickly followed. Tomasso immediately bent his head to claim what he’d revealed, running his mouth and tongue over the soft globes and suckling briefly at each nipple as he squeezed with his hands.

Continuing to knead the soft flesh, he then began to kiss a trail up to her neck and Abigail moaned and leaned her head back and to the side to give him better access. His mouth stopped, she felt something press against her skin and then he suddenly released her and jumped back like she was on fire. Without his weight to hold her up, Abigail immediately dropped to the jungle floor like a stone. It happened so fast she didn’t even have the chance to get her feet beneath her, but landed on her butt in the sand.

“We should rest and eat.”

Abigail blinked her eyes open in shock both from her fall and at that snarl. She was just in time to see Tomasso’s bare ass disappearing into the trees. His hands were clenched, his back stiff. It looked to her like he was angry and she had no idea why. In fact, she had no idea what had just happened.

He’d kissed her. She’d responded. And then he’d jumped away from her like she was a leper. Had she been too responsive? Had she turned him off with her eagerness? Should she have played the maidenly virgin and given him a protest or two? What the hell was going on?

Yesterday he’d been all over her at every turn. Today he was Mr. Freeze, then he was all over her again, and then in the middle of it dropped her like a hot potato. Really, what was happening here?

Shaking her head, she got slowly to her feet and brushed the sand off her bottom. Fortunately, she hadn’t been hurt when he’d dropped her, at least not physically. Emotionally, though, Abigail was confused and hurt and completely at sea. She didn’t understand what had changed . . . except that they’d walked all day, so were a day closer to civilization.

Perhaps that was it, Abigail thought suddenly. They were a day closer to civilization. Another day or so and they should find people and habitation. At least she hoped they would. She certainly didn’t want to be walking like this for days on end. One or two she could handle, but days or weeks? Man, she couldn’t take that. Abigail needed clean clothes, real food, and a huge bubble bath to scrub all this sand and grit away. She also needed a good shampooing to wash this strawlike feel out of her hair. The outdoors were fine, but you could only eat coconut so many times before it began to get old.

Sighing, Abigail scowled into the trees. The truth was, she was lying her ass off. She’d loved the fish and coconut, and she would have continued to love them, and the beach, the sand, the water, the lack of amenities, and everything, if Tomasso weren’t acting so distant. But it seemed the closer they got to civilization, the less interested he was in her.

That was exactly what she’d feared would happen from the beginning, Abigail thought unhappily. So much for all his hooey about her being his life mate, and life mate’s meaning “everything.”

Speaking of which, he’d never explained that nonsense, she thought with resentment. And nonsense was probably all it had been. A bunch of sweet words used to get into her pants. Not that he’d really got into them.

Well, okay, he had got into them, Abigail admitted, but they hadn’t had sex. He’d probably been afraid she’d get pregnant or something. And she might have, Abigail realized with a grimace, so supposed she should be grateful that at least he had been thinking if she hadn’t.

Turning to the water, she looked out over it through unhappy eyes. If Tomasso wanted to pretend what had happened between them hadn’t happened . . . okay. She could do that. She’d give him the space he wanted and pretend she didn’t want him to kiss her, touch her, and caress her. She’d pretend that she didn’t care that he’d lost interest. And she’d pretend that it didn’t hurt like crazy too.

“Idiota. Stupido. Imbecille,” Tomasso muttered, pounding his head against the trunk of a palm tree.

He couldn’t believe he’d done that. He’d been so good all day, keeping his distance, resisting the desire to touch and kiss Abigail. Then she tripped over a stupid palm stem and the next thing he knew, he had her pressed up against a tree, his mouth at her throat and his fangs sliding out, aiming for her jugular. He’d damned near bit her. Again.

“Animale,” Tomasso muttered to himself with disgust. He had no control. He was no better than a wild beast right now. All he could think about, all the time, was sinking his aching cock into her warm, wet depths. But the moment he got near her throat, his fangs came out and he wanted to sink those into her too. He really needed blood. It was the only way he could make love to Abigail without feeding off of her too, and he was desperate to make love to Abigail.

Tomasso felt sure that if he spent a week or so just making love to her and sharing the life mate pleasure with her, he could tell her about himself and who and what he was and she wouldn’t panic and rebuff him. At least that’s what he was hoping. He was hoping to tie her to him with life mate sex so that she would accept the truth about him more easily. Or maybe overlook it to enjoy the incredible sex life mates had.

Abigail was a very sensual woman. He was sure she wouldn’t be able to turn her back on him once she experienced the full breadth of pleasure they could have . . . no matter how horrified or disgusted she might be to learn what he was. Tomasso just needed to get them to civilization as quickly as possible to manage that. Of course, once he got them there he would have to make a few phone calls too, but that shouldn’t take long. Then he could concentrate on her, on pleasuring her in every way imaginable and binding her to him with sex.

Breathing out slowly, Tomasso tugged his makeshift loincloth aside and examined himself. He hadn’t tried the vine thing earlier when he’d thought of it. He’d decided to try just keeping his distance. Well . . . that hadn’t worked out so well. It was time for more drastic measures. If his cock wouldn’t behave, he’d tie it up. Although, to be frank, he wasn’t sure that the added pain would really help. Certainly the agonizing cramps he was suffering with his need for blood didn’t seem to be beating back his libido. But it was worth a try.

Letting the loincloth drop back into place, he turned to head further into the woods in search of vines that would serve the purpose.