The man looking at her with so much passion in his eyes was not the same one that Bridget had gotten to know over the past two days.

Everything she'd thought about him was wrong. A first for her. Usually, she was pretty good at reading people. But maybe that was because their scents revealed so much.

Turner's scent still didn't reveal a thing, not even now when his entire body radiated with passion and feelings she hadn't thought him capable of.

The guy either had a split personality or was putting up an Oscar-worthy performance. Both were unlikely for the vast majority of people, but a highly intelligent sociopath could have developed superior acting skills to help him blend into society.

The scientist in her accepted that this was the most logical explanation for the dichotomy between lack of emotional scents and a show of intense feelings. An aroused male, human or immortal, emitted a powerful and unmistakable aroma that no one could fake. A show of emotions was another story.

Her gut disagreed.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, but there could have been a biological reason for Turner's lack of emotional scents. She'd never encountered anyone like that before, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. Turner could have been an anomaly.

The sad truth was that it didn't really matter.

Turner was not a prospective life partner, and she should enjoy her time with him as much as she could for as long as it lasted, even if he was putting on an act and this was make-believe.

It was highly unlikely that he was a Dormant, which in a way was a relief because Bridget had a feeling nothing would dissuade Turner from attempting transition, and she would have no choice but to approve it. If she prohibited it based on his medical condition, he might retaliate by exposing the clan.

The man was ruthless enough to do that.

What did it say about her that she found a man who walked such a thin line between good and evil fascinating and irresistible?

Was she a thrill seeker?

Was she so bored with the monotony of her life that she craved danger?

And did it matter if she did?

The only consequence relevant to her would be her emotional state once the two weeks she'd asked for were over.

Bridget wasn't a naive young girl whose heart was in danger of breaking. At her age and with her life experience she could just enjoy the ride.

Her racing mind had processed all of that in the time it had taken Turner to ease over onto his side and wrap his arms around her, holding her close as if she was dear to him.

He kissed her forehead, then her nose, finally reaching her lips for a scorching kiss that was not refined or practiced but filled with lust and hunger.

With Turner's powerful arms holding her close and his muscular chest pressed against her breasts, Bridget felt her desire reawaken, going from ten to a hundred in seconds. This man revved her engine like no other. The electrical energy surging between them was enough to power a skyscraper.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispered as he came up for air. "I'm out of control with need for you."

His words sounded so heartfelt it was easy for Bridget to pretend he'd meant them. Especially since she needed him just as badly.

"Then take me."

He groaned. "I have a condom in my wallet. But I don't want to let go of you even for a second. I'm afraid you'll disappear like a mirage because I still can't believe you're real."

He was good, she had to give him that. Not only was Turner a fantastic actor, but he was also a talented scriptwriter.

"There is no need for a condom. I'm immune to human diseases and I can't transfer them either."

"What about pregnancy?"

"Highly unlikely. There is a reason we are almost extinct."

"But there is a chance."

"So slim that it is negligible. And even if by some miracle I get pregnant, I would be overjoyed to have another child. But if you feel so strongly about it, you're welcome to go and retrieve it."

She smirked. "It was a bit presumptuous of you to come prepared like this."

"I had hopes. A beautiful woman inviting me to dinner at her home, one thing could lead to another. You should know by now that I'm not the kind of man who comes unprepared."

She reached between their bodies and closed her hand around his shaft. It pulsed in her hold, getting even harder. "I don't know about you, but I like the feel of skin on skin. It's not the same with a barrier."

Turner groaned. "You're killing me, woman. I don't even remember what it feels like without one."

"Then it is time to remind you." She rubbed her thumb over the tiny moist slit, using his own lubricant to slide her hand from tip to base and then up again.

Bridget held on as he flipped her on her back and got on top of her. Spreading her legs wide, she guided him inside her.

For some reason, she expected him to inch slowly into her, but he surged all the way in, bottoming out at her cervix and wresting a gasp from her throat.

The sudden invasion wasn't painful, or even uncomfortable, and once that moment of surprise had passed and she could concentrate on the feel of him inside her, Bridget sighed in contentment.

Turner groaned. "God, I have died and gone to heaven."

"Not yet." She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. He wasn't going anywhere.

Their fit was perfect as if their bodies were created to complete each other.

He filled her up just right.

And when he began to move, slowly, deliberately, she met each hard thrust with an upward motion of her own.

As she closed her eyes, letting her head drop back on the pillow, Turner latched onto her neck, sucking and nipping and sending a volley of electrical currents down to her core. The sparks combined with those created by the exquisite friction of his shaft, amplifying the sensation.

The man might not have known what to do on a date, but he certainly knew what to do with a woman's body.

As he started swiveling his hips with every hard thrust, the corkscrew motion alone was enough to trigger her orgasm.

He held her tight as it exploded through her, her sheath tightening around him in a spasming grip and wresting the last of his control away from him.

Bridget felt Turner grow harder and thicker as he gripped her nape, forcing her to look into his intense gray eyes as if to make sure she knew who was taking her.

As he pounded into her, he kept her gaze until his expression turned from intense to ferocious and his impending completion forced an animalistic growl out of him. Throwing his head back, his face contorting with the brutal force of his climax, Turner shouted her name, then collapsed on top of her, his gasping breaths moistening the curve of her neck.

Bridget cupped his cheeks and lifted his head, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Bridget," he whispered her name almost reverently as he lifted up. Leaning on one elbow, he brushed his fingers over her cheek.

"Victor." She smiled at him before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.