ABIGAIL

The bathroom mirror had to be lying. Abigail stared at it for nearly an hour, trying to find the spot where she was sure Alexander had bitten her. Frustrated, she splashed her face with cold water. There had to be a logical explanation for all this. He couldn’t be some monster, right? He was a businessman with strange fetishes, a womaniser, and had no photos taken of him in the Age of Information…

Scratching her head, she emerged from the bathroom and looked at the clothes she wore last night. There was a dark stain on her shirt. So, she did end up bleeding. Alexander even healed her the first time after she was attacked. Oh, and the kiss we shared… She shook her head. It never happened. It couldn’t have. Just because he was hot, it didn’t give him permission to go around kissing every woman he came across. Not only that, he had no right to start making out with her, even if his kiss made her insides tingle and her body burn.

“I hate him!” she screamed.

Her phone went off, and she launched for it, sliding across the bed to find it on the floor. She picked up, saying, “What’s up, Ursula?”

“Well, you sound chipper this morning. Did you get laid?”

Abigail glared at her phone before bringing it back to her ear. “No, I didn’t get laid.”

“Good, ‘cause I’ve set up a meeting with Prince Charming.”

“Who?” Abigail raked her memory for anyone from last night, coming up blank.

Her friend groaned. “The blind date I mentioned? He said he would like to meet with you tonight if you’re up for it. His name’s Chris Walker.”

“Ah, the washboard abs guy or is he the underwear model?”

“Seriously? Did you listen to a word I said yesterday? He’s not an underwear model. Chris is a bit of a nerd, works as a programmer for our company.”

Abigail rolled on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Okay. Chris, programmer, nice abs. Got it.”

“Are you sure you didn’t get laid? You sound like a ditsy blonde.”

A blush crept to her cheeks, but she smashed her excitement with a mental image of a huge hammer. Alexander didn’t deserve her affection. That man was a killer. Sure, he had saved her from some creepy assailant in the alley, but he did kill a guy. She shuddered. “So, this date, where am I going to meet him?”

“He said he’ll pick you up at eight. I gave him your new address.”

Abigail nodded. “If he turns out to be a bore, I’m going to submit a ticket to tech support.”

This time, Ursula burst out laughing, and, soon after, both of them were too busy planning another night out.

Chris Walker turned out to be a looker. He was tall, broad-shouldered, clean-shaven, and smelled of pine trees. He showed up with a bouquet of white roses and a charming smile that would have melted any girl’s heart. The guy even had damned dimples. She loved dimples. Leave it to Ursula to find a diamond in the rough.

He brought her to an Italian restaurant in the city. She liked the romantic atmosphere: dim lights, candles, and a single rose on every table.

While they waited for their starters, she smiled at him and said, “I heard from Ursula that you play the guitar.”

“A little. In college, I used to be in a band.”

“Oh, got any tattoos?”

He shook his head. “No. I came close to getting ‘I love Jesus’ done on my ass at one point. That’s when I decided to cut down on the amount of alcohol I consume.”

She couldn’t hold back her laughter. “A solid decision.” Her eyes wandered to his attire. He wore a simple knitted sweater and jeans. Lifting her attention back to his sky-blue eyes, she reached for her glass of wine.

“Our mutual friend said you’re interning as a journalist. Do you like it?” he asked.

Abigail swallowed a mouthful of her drink before setting her glass down. “Yeah. It’s fun. I love meeting new people and trying to dig up dirt on them.”

His eyes widened, and her hands shot up, almost knocking over her glass. She scrambled to stabilise it and mumbled, “Not in a bad way! I don’t go through their trash or anything. I should just stop talking…”

“No, no, please continue. I have never dated a journalist before.”

“What kind of girls have you dated?”

Chris reached for his glass when the waiter showed up with their starters. Evident relief flooded his face, and Abigail took a mental note of that. She could easily talk about the men she had dated in the past with almost anyone. Why is he withholding such information from her? Does he have something to hide?

Abigail dug into her salad as she stole glances his way. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of platinum hair and her breath caught in her throat. Assessing the rest of the restaurant, she didn’t see anyone resembling Alexander and cursed inwardly. She had to be imagining things. Just like I’m imagining being bitten twice in one night or that Alexander isn’t necessarily human?

“Are you alright?” Chris asked.

She forced a smile and left her seat. “I am going to use the restroom. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

After she left her date at the table, she marched into the ladies room and pressed her back against the tiled wall. Chris was nice, but he didn’t provide her with the same spark she had in Alexander’s vicinity. Other than an appetising exterior, she wondered if she’d want to pursue a relationship with him. Then again, maybe after tonight, he’d be bored of her, too, and find someone who doesn’t talk about rummaging through people’s bins over dinner.

She left the restroom, passing by a private room. Her body came to a sudden stop. Alexander’s laughter came from the room, summoning that same, strange buzz in her stomach.

“He couldn’t be here. I’m imagining things again.”

The door opened, and a woman in a red cocktail dress stumbled outside. Abigail recognised her from a Vogue magazine spread. Past the blonde, she located the man she feared to find.

Alexander’s steely gaze met hers, and he smiled before he excused himself. Joining her in the corridor, he let her take in his pristine black suit and the shirt he didn’t bother buttoning all the way up. “What can I do you for, Ms Greene?”

“Nothing. I was about to return to my date,” she said, meeting his gaze head-on.

He chuckled. “Would that be the man who lies to you at every turn?”

“What are you talking about?”

Bending down, he brushed her hair aside and whispered into her ear, “I can hear his heartbeat. He lied when he said he does not drink much anymore. I believe you will find it to be quite the opposite.”

“So he drinks, big whoop here in Dublin.”

He straightened up. “Enjoy your date, Abby. I must get back to my business partners.”

She glanced past him, seeing two men sitting beside two more women. What kind of business deals required models to be clinging to them while they talked? Sizzling with annoyance, she stormed away and re-joined Chris at the table.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, sounding a little merrier than before.

Abigail stole a peek at the bottle of wine on the table. It was nearly finished. Her anger surged again, and she grabbed her purse. “You know, I don’t think I’m feeling too good. It must be something I ate. Mind giving me a lift home?”

“What about dinner?” he asked, suddenly more alert.

“We’ll reschedule.” Her eyes were drawn to Alexander who made an order at the bar and turned to glance her way. Since he could hear heartbeats, she knew he would overhear her words as she ran her fingers over Chris’ hand. “Why don’t we go back to my place instead and have some fun. What do you say?”

Chris’ mouth fell open. “I wouldn’t mind but—”

“Great!” Taking hold of his arm, she led him to the cash register where he paid for their meal and cancelled the rest of their order.

She knew it was a dumb thing to do. There was no point in trying to make Alexander jealous with such childish behaviour, but she couldn’t take his smug face anymore. The truth was that she hadn’t been with anyone in over four months. A simple, unattached, one-night stand would do wonders to get that egotistical, self-absorbed man out of her head.

ALEXANDER

Alexander heard her loud and clear over the banter of the humans dining at the restaurant. He noted the amount of wine her date had consumed. It wasn’t too much to bring a man over the edge, yet something continued to bother him. Her date lied about his alcohol consumption, just as he had avoided the conversation about his past conquests. Why would she take someone like that into her bed? Is she only interested in the physical relationship?

He downed the glass of Irish whiskey the bartender brought him and cursed in Russian under his breath. He was too curious to leave her alone. And, if she was only looking for a quick sexual fix, he could make an exception this once. Maybe he could pretend she was a blonde or a brunette while he fucked her. Whatever the case, he shouldn’t limit himself. His interest in her was already unnatural. If he was to bed her, that interest would vanish, and he would be able to return to normal.

Happy with his train of thought, he paid the bartender for a new bottle of the most expensive whiskey they stocked and returned to the room where the shareholders of his U.S. branch were buried in the bosoms of two models. “Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen. I’ll have to postpone this meeting until tomorrow.” He winked at the ladies. “Take good care of them, kittens.”

One of the models purred, and he laughed. Women were complex creatures, but they quickly became undone when he took them to bed. The same would happen to Ms Abigail Greene.

ABIGAIL

At her apartment’s front door, Abigail was beginning to have second thoughts. This was not her style. She wasn’t easy nor did she sleep with a guy before having three meals with him in public. Slotting her key into the lock, she let out a sigh. Maybe Chris will get the hint and bugger off? She peered over her shoulder. Nope. He’s still there. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was more than eager to pounce on her like one of those lions in wildlife documentaries. She shook the image out of her head. She was no helpless gazelle.

“You know what, Chris. I don’t think we should do this after all,” she said, trying to form a genuine smile.

He eyed her, but she saw no warmth in his gaze that was there all throughout the evening.

Have I pissed him off?

“You really can’t make up your mind tonight, can you?” he asked, irate.

“I’m sorry?”

“First, you are all reserved and friendly, then you act like a slut by inviting me here, and now you’re playing the reserved card again. You’re not as gorgeous as you may think in that big head of yours.”

Her jaw unhinged as she stared at him. Has he lost his marbles? He was blatantly insulting her to her face. “Since I’m such a bitch, please be on your way.”

He chuckled. “I guess it’s a better option than to fuck someone who’s been around town more times than the common cold.” The second he finished his sentence, Chris’ head collided with the wall. He collapsed with a groan, leaving a fuming Alexander behind. Or, at least, she thought he was angry because his eyes were glowing with molten silver.

“He’s bleeding,” she commented, not moving to help the guy who had insulted her earlier.

“So it would seem. I can bring him outside and educate him on the way to treat women with respect,” Alexander replied.

“You? The guy who drinks blood, kidnaps people, kills, and does God-knows-what-else?”

Alexander’s grey gaze met hers, causing her heart to miss a beat or two. She wasn’t counting. His eyes were beautiful. No. He was beautiful like a winter’s night bathed in moonlight.

Her words escaped her before she could contain them. “You’re pretty…”

His brow arched. “Pretty?”

“I’m sorry. It just came out…”

He burst into a true, genuine laugh that made her join in.

She unlocked the door and beckoned for him to come in. “Want another cup of coffee?”

Alexander cleared his throat and lifted the bottle of whiskey from behind his back. “It would be a shame to let this wonderful drink go to waste, don’t you think?”

“Yes, it would.”