As she waited for Turner to arrive, Bridget stood by the glass doors leading to her balcony, looking into the distance at the slowly sinking sun while contemplating mortality.

The entire week Turner had been gone, she'd been agonizing about her decision, even though she knew from the beginning that if he insisted she was going to approve it.

She had no choice.

It wasn't that Bridget truly believed he would betray the clan's existence if denied, but she had no right to deny him. Not even as a doctor. If he was human, he might benefit from the venom, and if he wasn't, he had the right to risk his life if he so wished. Turner was an adult, he wasn't stupid, and he wasn't rash.

The only thing she could do was protect herself by not getting emotionally attached to him. At least not more than she already had.

As expected, the security guard called her at exactly six-thirty to let her know that Turner was waiting for her down at the lobby.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and headed down.

"Hello, Victor." After a moment's hesitation, she kissed his cheek. It was a friendly kiss, not the kind a woman gave her lover, but it was more than shaking hands. Any physical contact with him was like firing another staple into the seam that bound them together, but just saying hello would have felt awkward.

"Bridget." He cast a glance at the guard, then leaned and kissed her cheek the same way one would kiss his sister.

The same way she'd kissed him.

"Aren't we going to your office?" Victor asked as she pressed the up bottom for the elevator.

"I just want to talk to you. I don't need to run tests." A sudden thought had her cast him a worried glance. "Are you experiencing new symptoms?"

"No. In fact, even the cough is gone. Maybe I'm in spontaneous remission." Turner smiled, his face losing its usual harsh and remote expression.

He was such a handsome man. She'd managed to forget that while he was away. Or maybe she'd just pretended to.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." She stepped out of the elevator.

"The cough?"

Bridget opened the door to her apartment and showed him in. "Take a seat. I'll bring refreshments."

He sat on the couch.

Still on a mission to teach him healthy eating habits, she'd prepared a tray of cut fruit and several small containers of nuts.

"How was your flight?" Bridget put the tray down and went back for the water jug.

"I can't complain. First class is first class. There is no other way to fly, especially when my clients are paying for it."

"I'm sure you can afford it." She sat next to him.

"I can. But old habits refuse to die. Growing up in a household where every penny counted, I still can't bring myself to spend that much on a plane ticket."

"Eat some fruit." She pointed to the tray.

"Yes, doctor." Victor lifted one of the forks and picked a slice of cantaloupe. "I see that you are still trying to convert me."

She lifted a brow. "Is it working?"

"I'm trying. But while I was away it was impossible not to indulge. Besides, my host would have been disappointed or even offended if I didn't eat what his cook had prepared."

"And when you weren't dining with your client?"

"I was a good boy and ate my veggies."

"I sort of doubt it."

"Whenever I could," he qualified.

Turner could be so charming when he wanted to. Was it all an act to disarm her? She had no doubt that he was capable of faking it. The only thing Bridget wasn't sure about was the intent.

"About your cough. According to your doctor, it was a lucky coincidence. The cough was unrelated to your cancer. It was probably an allergic reaction to the latest fires. But thanks to that cough, and the tests he'd run on you, he was able to discover the cancer at its very early stages. With treatment, you can expect a full recovery. They use the term remission in case it comes back, but you have excellent chances of getting rid of it for good."

He narrowed his eyes. "You're not saying that just to dissuade me from attempting transition?"

"Your doctor has told you all that. You just failed to mention it to me."

Turner smirked. "What can I say, can you blame me?"

"Yes. You don't withhold information like that. What were you thinking, that I wouldn't find out?"

"I needed time."

Bridget's temper, the one she always worked so hard on keeping bottled up, was flaring big time. "For what? So you can seduce me? So you can influence the little woman with a few orgasms? Come on, Turner. You should have known it wouldn't be that easy. I'm not some silly bimbette you can wrap around your little finger."

Fates, she was hyperventilating. Bridget pushed off the couch and started pacing.

Turner followed her with his eyes. "I know you're not a silly bimbette. You're one of the smartest people I know, and coming from me it means a lot because I meet a lot of smart people."

That cooled her down a bit, but not enough. "Than what was your plan?"

"Just to remind you, you were the one to seduce me."

"Ugh." She pointed a finger at his chest. "Don't you dare pull that one on me. I didn't hear you say no."

Turner lifted his palms. "You're right. That was uncalled for." He sighed. "I hoped that when you got to know me better, you'd realize that I wasn't rushing into it without giving it a lot of thought, and that my reasons were valid. That's why I needed time. Regrettably, that unexpected trip came along, robbing me of an entire week."

"Me too. I want that week back. My original two weeks are now three."

"Deal. I'll even agree to four."

That was a surprise. Or maybe not. Now that he knew she was onto him, he needed even more time to win her over.

Clever man.

What he didn't know, though, was that she was going to approve him anyway. She was just buying herself more time.

But to what end? So she could be even more heartbroken when he died?

It would be so much easier on her conscience if she could determine for sure that he wasn't a Dormant.

"I have more questions for you."

"Ask away."

"Did you ever feel like you knew what another person was thinking?"

"Many times."

Shit. So he did have special abilities.

He continued. "It's easy. I can teach you to do it. It starts with reading body language. Besides, most people are so simple-minded that I know what they are going to say before they do. My thought process is usually much faster."

Okay, so reading body language was a skill, and guessing other people’s thoughts required a fast brain and a certain level of talent but not paranormal abilities.

"How about precognition, anticipating future events?"

"I know the outcome of every mission."

"You were never wrong?"

"No."

That would definitely mean some precognition talent. No one could anticipate the exact outcome when there were so many variables involved.

He continued. "But my calculations always take into account the unexpected, and I allow for a margin of error. I’ve never been wrong within that margin."

That seemed like a logical explanation. Again, this was plain smarts, nothing paranormal about it.

"Have you ever felt like you've seen a place before, even though you were never there?"

"Like a déjà vu?"

"Not exactly. When you send people on a mission, and later they report what they saw, do you realize that you've visualized it exactly the way they saw it?" Remote viewing was one of the rarest talents, but she was determined to tick off any she could think of.

Turner rubbed his hand over his shaved head. "Yes and no. I study the maps and the satellite photos. I interrogate anyone who knows anything about the terrain or the building or whatever I'm dealing with. Once I'm done, I can find my way around the target area blindfolded."

Bridget let out a relieved breath. Victor was an extremely talented and capable man, and he could do what very few individuals in the world could. But none of his abilities were supernatural in the mystical or paranormal sense.

He wasn't a Dormant, just a super-human.