I waited to hear the porter’s footsteps fade. Then I turned to face Logan, hands on my hips. “Betrothed?” I spit out. “What the hell?”

He gave me a withering look. “I had no choice,” he said. “Bringing a mortal down to the Blood Coven sanctuary is already forbidden. A mortal who is wanted by Slayer Inc.? That’s even worse.” He walked over to the nearby chair, sinking down onto it. He was so tall, he barely fit.

“So you told them we were engaged,” I concluded.

“Yes. It is acceptable, though not exactly encouraged, for vampires to get married to mortals when they’re younger,” he said. “It’s only later, when they close in on the thousand-year mark that they are required to take a Blood Mate and leave mortal life behind for good.”

“I see.”

“Don’t worry,” he said dryly. “Your honor will remain intact. I’ll sleep in the chair. You can take the bed.”

I frowned, giving him a once-over. “You barely fit in that chair. There’s no way you’ll be able to sleep in it.”

“I’ve slept in worse.”

I glanced at the bed. It did look cozy. And I was exhausted at this point. I knew the second my head hit the pillow I’d pass out. Also, if Logan had been interested in taking my honor, or however he put it, he had had many chances already. It would seem unlikely he’d pick now for my vampire deflowering.

“This is ridiculous,” I said. “It’s a huge bed. We can share it.”

He gave me a doubtful look. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Dude, we’ve passed uncomfortable miles ago. I’ll make it work.”

To prove my point, I kicked off my shoes and crawled into the bed, sticking my feet under the covers. The sheets felt silky against my aching skin. Clearly high thread count. I needed to check to see what brand they were before I left.

I turned to Logan, patting the side of the bed. He eyed it for a moment, then joined me, also taking off his shoes. He didn’t go under the covers though. I had to admit, he was pretty honorable for a thirty-five-year-old. Maybe some of those more Victorian vampire manners had worn off on him.

I felt something flutter in my chest. He really was a nice guy. I had totally misjudged him back at my book signing and then again at the charity ball. He’d seemed so aggressive back then. As if he was used to just taking what he wanted. Now I was seeing a different side of him. And honestly, it felt more genuine. As if this was his true self. The self he didn’t want the world to see. And I kind of liked it.

I raked my gaze down his body. I kind of liked him in my bed, too, if we were being honest here. Which was crazy, to say the least. I, Hannah, did not do guys in my bed. But, hey, maybe I was having of change of heart, too. I felt a warm feeling rise in my throat.

“So what did Jareth say?” I asked, pushing it back down. After all, Logan had basically just promised not to jump me. Which likely meant he didn’t want to be jumped by me either.

“Just…that he’d do what he could,” Logan replied, getting that uncomfortable look on his face again.

I frowned. “You don’t sound too optimistic.”

“Eh.” He waved me off. “I’m sure it will all work out. In any case I made it very clear to Jareth that you should not have been involved in any of it. That you were an innocent party—attacked without provocation. No matter what ends up happening to me, I made sure you will be able to go free. Get back to your old life.”

I nodded slowly, knowing the words should be meaning more to me than they were. I should be happy—thrilled—to know that this could all just go away. I could get back to reality. My apartment, my books. Darla and my cat. Leave all this supernatural stuff behind. But then…

“What about you?” I blurted out.

For a moment he said nothing. Then he sighed. “There will be a trial, I’m sure,” he said. “I’ll hire a lawyer. Try to make my case. Find some character witnesses…” He shrugged. “I have a lot of friends in the vampire community. And a spotless record. Surely they will take that under consideration.”

But something in his eyes told me that he wasn’t sure at all. Which made something painful tug hard at my chest. Instinctively, I reached out, slipping my hand into his. “I’m sorry,” I said for the millionth time.

Logan squeezed my hand. He had such strong fingers, and yet so gentle at the same time. He turned to look at me, his eyes meeting mine. He looked so sad. It tore at my heart. When he reached up to brush a lock of hair out of my eyes something inside of me melted.

“Oh Hannah,” he said. “I wanted so badly to show you how vampires lived. I’m afraid I haven’t given you much to work with.”

I forced a small smile, my heart pounding in my chest. Our faces were inches apart. Our hands entwined. Suddenly I felt brave.

“You still have time,” I said slowly, letting the words drag out. Then I tilted my head, ever so slightly toward him. It was a small move, barely noticeable. But for me it might as well have been moving mountains. Giving an invitation I had so long withheld from any guy.

For a moment he just looked at me. As if he couldn’t believe what I was offering. But I held his gaze, assuring him it was what I wanted. And so he reached up, taking my head in his hands and pulling me toward him until our mouths were on one another’s. Our tongues entwined in a wild dance that sent shivers to my toes. My mind spun. Nerve endings tickling my every extremity.

Oh God. This was happening This was really happening.

I groaned as I moved against him, suddenly lost in a world of lust and desire I hadn’t felt in years. His hands dropped to my shoulders, then to my waist, dragging me closer until I was flush against him. My breasts squashed against his solid chest. Our legs wrapped in a complicated puzzle. He tasted so good. He felt so good. And it had been so long. So, so long since--

His hand dragged up my ribcage, his thumb grazing the tip of my breast. I gasped as the sensation struck me like a lightning strike.

Then, something in my brain spiked. And horrifying visions rocked through my synapses.

Rough hands. Grabbing at my flesh. Ignoring my pleas. Ignoring my sobs.

Somehow my hands found Logan’s chest and I shoved him backward with all my might. Then I lunged off the bed, so fast I almost fell on the floor. Instead, I stumbled to the back side of the room, by the door, sinking to the ground, hugging my knees in my hands. Tears fell from my eyes like rain, staining my shirt.

Logan stared at me for a moment. A dazed look on his face. Then he rose from the bed. Walked over to me.

“Don’t touch me!” I cried. “Please don’t touch me!”

To his credit, he didn’t try. Even though he looked as if he wanted to desperately. And not in a sexual way either. But as if he just wanted to hold me. To comfort me.

And a huge part of me wanted him to do just that. To have him wrap those strong arms around me. To have him whisper in my ear that everything would be okay. But that would just lead to more of what had just happened. What couldn’t happen again.

God. I buried my face in my lap. I felt like such a fool. What was I thinking? That I was some normal girl with a normal guy who could just enjoy stuff normal people enjoyed?

Logan walked to the opposite side of the room. Sank down into that damn miniature chair again. I waited for him to say something. Anything. But he didn’t. Which was really nice of him, actually. Most people would have demanded answers. What the hell was that all about? Why was I acting so crazy? Why was I such a tease?

But Logan was not like most people. Of that, I was certain.

I sucked in a breath, my face flushed with how ridiculous my actions must seem to him. After all, this was not a dark alleyway. I hadn’t been in any danger. I didn’t think for a moment that Logan wouldn’t have listened to me if I asked him nicely to stop.

And yet I had, once again, totally freaked out. Pushed myself away from a guy. Was I doomed to this pattern for the rest of my life? Would I ever be a real woman again? A woman with the capacity to share herself with a guy? Or had I let that monster rob me of that, too?

The urge to cut came sharp as a blade. I stared down at the white crosses on my left arm. The bandage still on my right. There was probably a scab. I could pick the scab…

“That’s not a good idea,” Logan said. “Not here.”

My head jerked up. “What isn’t?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest all over again. I felt like I was going to be sick.

He nodded in the direction of my arm. My face burned with shame.

“Did you read my thoughts?” I demanded, rising to my feet.

He shook his head. “I can’t read thoughts,” he said. “Some vampires can. I can’t.”

I glanced down at my arm. “Then how…?”

“Simple. I see your past, written on your arms. I know what you did in my bathroom. And I know you want to do it here.” He gave me a rueful look. “But that would be a very bad mistake. There are a lot of vampires here tonight. They would break down that door to get to you if they smelled even a hint of your blood. And then I’d have to kill them all. Which,” he added with a small quirk at his mouth. “Wouldn’t exactly help my case.”

I groaned, leaning back against the wall. Could I be any more embarrassed than I was at this very moment? “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I made you feel uncomfortable.”

I thought back to the scene on the bed. “You made me feel good,” I said. “Just…maybe a little too good.” I blushed again. “I don’t…do that kind of thing. Not with anyone.”

“Why not?”

It was such a simple question. But with such a complicated answer. “It’s a long story.”

He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got all day.”

He was right, of course. We weren’t going anywhere. But that didn’t mean I wanted to spend the time spilling my heart to a practical stranger.

But was he a stranger? Something inside me niggled. He was starting not to feel that way. Sure, we hadn’t known each other long. But the intensity of our brief relationship had fast tracked us to a strange sense of intimacy of a friendship that was far longer.

I didn’t have a lot of people I trusted these days. I lost most of my so-called friends after that night. When they stuck up for him instead of me. When they said I should just let it go. Not make it a big deal. That I shouldn’t ruin someone’s entire life because of one drunken mistake.

Sure, I had Darla. But Darla was so innocent. So sweet and happy. I never wanted to drag her down with my darkness.

But now, here I was, sitting in a room with darkness himself. And for some weird reason I felt compelled to tell him everything. Let him hear it all. Every last dirty detail. And learn, once and for all, if he was just like the rest of them.

“I was raped,” I blurted out. Because that’s what it was. Why beat around the bush? You could call it date rape. Somehow that seemed to soften it in people’s minds. As if that was somehow better. That someone you knew and trusted did those things to you. The line of consent blurring. Had you been kissing? Had you worn a short skirt? Had you teased him all night, batting your eyes?

Such a slut.

Totally asked for it.

He’d had such a great future ahead of him. So much to look forward to.

And then she…ruined his life.

It would have been so much better had it been a stranger. Some random face I could push out of my head and never think of again. A violent act I could condemn utterly and know was not my fault whatsoever.

But raped by your own boyfriend? That was a slippery slope.

“I’d been seeing this guy for a couple months,” I said. “Casually. We were both super busy in school—he was studying to be a politician. His dad was—is a state senator. But whenever we had free time we’d go out. He was pretty nice—or so I thought. Charming, handsome, popular. You know the type.”

A shadow seemed to cross Logan’s face. But, “Yes,” was all he said.

“Anyway, he invited me to this house party. In some big mansion off campus that one of his friends’ parents’ owned. It was supposed to be the party of the semester. I was pretty excited to get an invite.” I snorted. “Let’s just say I wasn’t the most popular girl in school, even then.

“Honestly, the whole thing was one big walking cliché. I got there. I started drinking. Everyone was drinking. I mean, it was a college party, duh. I remember dancing out by the pool. Having a great time. And then…things sort of got fuzzy around the edges. I guess I passed out.”

My heart started beating a little faster as my mind revisited the scene. I wondered if I should stop talking. Surely he could fill in the blanks. It was a tale as old as time, after all.

“Go on,” he said.

I closed my eyes, biting my lower lip for a moment before continuing. “I woke up in a bed. My underwear was at my ankles. There was someone on top of me—it was dark, I couldn’t see who it was at first. I cried out, trying to get him to stop. To leave me alone. But my head was still so fuzzy. My tongue so thick—it wasn’t working right. He pressed a hand to my mouth to stop me from screaming. He leaned down and whispered in my ear.” I swallowed hard. “That’s when I realized who it was.”

“Your boyfriend,” Logan concluded. Not looking happy.

I nodded, staring down at the floor, no longer able to look at him. “I let him finish. I didn’t say anything else. I probably should have fought harder. But at the time I didn’t know if I had the strength. And what did it matter at that point anyway? He was already halfway done. I thought—if I could just suck it up. Get through it somehow, it’d be over. And then I could pretend it never happened.”

“Oh Hannah,” Logan’s voice was filled with pity, warring with fury.

I waved him off. I had to finish. I’d gone too far to stop now. “When he was done, he rolled over and basically passed out. I tried to sleep, too. But my heart was racing. Finally, I got up. I staggered out of the bedroom. People were staring at me as I walked through the living room. I could hear them giggling. Whispering. Not surprising, I suppose. I must have looked a sight. I walked straight out the front door, not even bothering to find my shoes. Walked four miles to get home.”

“You didn’t go to the police?”

I hung my head. “I did actually. Well, sort of. Once I got home my mother took one look at me and dragged me to the hospital. They did an examination. Found out I’d been roofied. I begged them not to call the cops, but it was a crime; they had to report it.” I made a face. “The next day it was all over school. Jake had been arrested. Suspended, too. And kicked off the football team. That was probably the worst part. He was their star player. In their minds I had lost the season for them.”

Such a slut.

Totally asked for it.

Then…ruined his life.

The tears welled in my eyes as my mind relived those horrible weeks that followed. The weeks that would haunt me forever.

“The good thing was, it sort of killed my social life,” I said, giving him a rueful smile. “Which made me start writing.” I shrugged. “The rest is history, I guess.”

Logan rose from the chair. Walked over to the bed. For a moment he just looked down at me. His eyes rimmed with red. Then he dropped to his knees, opening his arms. Inviting, but not insisting. Which made my heart swell.

I threw myself into his embrace. An embrace that was so strong, it was almost crushing—yet felt so good at the same time. Solid, real, infused with strength. My muscles relaxed. My body melting into his. I pressed my face against his chest, breathing in his warm, comfortable scent. He smelled like the forest. A wild, dark forest. Dangerous, yet at the same time, so safe. As if nothing bad could possibly happen when locked in his arms. And as he stroked my hair, his fingernails lightly scraping against my scalp, I felt more at peace than I could remember feeling for ages. Maybe ever.

“Is it wrong that I want to kill him?” Logan whispered in my ear, his voice husky and angry in a way that sent chills down my spine. “Drain every last drop of blood from his body?”

I found myself smiling against him. “You’d drain someone dry for me?”

“Sweetheart, I’d rip them from limb to limb.”

The fierceness in his voice sent chills winding through me again. I sucked in a shaky breath, my insides flip-flopping like a fish out of water. I thought about his words back at that book signing. How I didn’t know how to write real men. And maybe he was right. I certainly never wrote anyone like him.

I pulled away from our embrace. Until I met his eyes with my own. They were filled with such a strange mixture of fury and admiration. My mouth parted. My heart pounded in my chest. I found myself leaning forward. My fear evaporating. Replaced by the nearly overwhelming desire to taste him again.

But before I could, he placed a finger to my lips. I watched as he slowly shook his head.

“No,” he said.

“What?” I stared at him, confused. “What do you mean, no?” I demanded, frustration spilling over. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

He gave me an agonized look. “Believe me, I want nothing more in the entire world than to kiss you right now. But I won’t do it.”

“I don’t understand.” My mind raced, suddenly panicked. “Is it because of what I told you? Do you think I’m…dirty or something?” I bit my lower lip. “Used?”

He looked horrified. “No!” he cried. “That never crossed my mind!” He pulled me to him, sitting me on his lap. He reached out, stroking my cheek with a gentle hand. I knew he could crush me with little effort. And yet, he was so gentle. So fucking gentle. As if I were a doll he was afraid to break.

“Sweetheart, you have been through so much. And to rush you into something else—before you are ready? I would be as bad as him. I will not take advantage of you. I will not take what you’re not ready to give. I will wait until you are truly ready.” He paused, a small smile crossing his face. “After all, vampires have all the time in the world.”

My heart squeezed. The emotions driving through me now, too hard and fast to catalog. The words he spoke, the consideration he gave. The fact that he cared enough, respected me enough. It was almost too much to bear.

“Come,” he said, gesturing to the bed. He pulled back the covers, revealing crisp, white sheets. I reluctantly crawled under the blanket. He replaced it over me.

Then he leaned down, kissing my forehead. Such a light kiss, I should have barely felt it. Yet it burned against my skin as if it had set me on fire. I looked up at him, affection streaming through me. Gratitude making it difficult to speak.

“Thank you,” I said at last. It sounded so lame coming from my lips, but I didn’t know what else to say.

He smiled. Then he walked around the bed and sank into the chair again. Closed his eyes. I watched him for a moment, taking him in. Wondering what he was thinking. What he thought of me. Then I snuggled under the covers, pulling my knees to my chest. Trying to get comfortable. Trying to still my fast-beating heart.

I had just settled in when there was a crisp knock on the door. I opened my eyes, my heart pounding all over again. I glanced over at Logan who had risen from his chair and was walking across the room. He gave me an apologetic glance.

“Sorry,” he said. “I think it’s my donor. I forgot she was coming.”

I sat up in bed, pulling the covers to my chin. Logan opened the door, revealing a young girl with long black hair that tumbled down her back in waves. She was beautiful, voluptuous, and wearing a skin-tight black dress that accentuated every curve of her body and every swell of her envious breasts. Wow. Logan had said he used a blood donor. He didn’t say she was a raven haired Marilyn Monroe.

“There you are, handsome,” she purred, stepping into the room. I watched as she reached out, dragging a well-manicured fingernail down Logan’s chest. “How long has it been?” she added. “Poor boy. You must be simply starving!”

Logan let out a low growl, deep in his throat. Almost feral in its intensity. His eyes locked onto her body, giving her a greedy look. He stepped forward, then stopped short. Seeming to remember he and his little blood chick weren’t alone. He glanced back at me.

“Sorry,” I stammered, feeling suddenly like an interloper. “Should I get out of your way?”

He pursed his lips. Then he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You stay and get some sleep. We can do this elsewhere.”

I watched as he put a possessive arm around the girl, leading her out of the room. She smiled up at him, as if they shared some kind of secret—just between the two of them. When they closed the door behind them, I collapsed back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, my heart wrenching in my chest. Trying not to imagine them alone together. His lips on her neck. Her soft mews as his fangs sank into her willing flesh.

While I lay here alone.

I felt the tears slip from the corners of my eyes. I rolled over to my side, again pulling my knees to my chest. Trying to hug away the sudden intense feeling of loneliness. The helplessness that rose through me like a tidal wave. I thought back to our encounter just a few moments before. When the lust in his eyes had been focused on me. He’d wanted me. He was ready to take me. But I had refused him—turned him away. Who was I now to feel bad about him going to someone else? Someone who wouldn’t make him feel like a jerk.

“She’s just dinner,” I told myself. “She doesn’t mean anything to him.”

But, of course, that wasn’t true. Of course she meant something to him. After all, she could give him something. Something he wanted. Something he needed.

Unlike little old me. Unable to give anything at all.