Adrian couldn’t wait to sink his fangs into Lavinia’s invitingly soft flesh. Walking by her side, inhaling her scent, and hearing her blood throbbing in her veins was torture.

“Before we leave—” Lavinia started saying but stopped, hesitating.

“Yes?” He looked at her and was swept by her beauty. The half mask did nothing to conceal the perfection of her olive skin, and the eyes peering from the holes were a deep, mesmerizing green.

“I’d like to dance,” she answered, biting her bottom lip, her gaze locked with his.

“Of course,” he said, steering Lavinia back toward the center of the ballroom.

The idea of staying one moment longer than necessary at the gala didn’t sit well with him, but she could have uttered the most bizarre request, and he would have answered in the affirmative. Pleasing Lavinia, making her happy had become an imperative in the short time they had spent together. Any doubt he could have had about the Vampire’s Thirst being real was now a moot point. He, an ancient and powerful vampire, was at the mercy of this petite she-wolf. Utterly and irrevocably.

The orchestra director raised his wand, and a Viennese waltz started.

Lavinia’s smile blinded Adrian when he placed one hand on her back and took hers in his free one. He led them into the first movement of the dance, and was pleasantly surprised when she followed him without a hitch.

As the music transported them away to another time and space, Adrian focused on the feel of Lavinia in his arms. She was soft but not pliant, making him wonder about her past. His need to feed from her vein was getting stronger, but the happiness exuding from Lavinia as he spun her around the room rewarded him plenty. Their synchronized steps drew the attentions of several couples who stopped to look at them.

When the orchestra director put down his wand, Adrian asked, “Would you like another dance?”

She nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

They stood for several pieces, and a crowd formed at the side of the dance floor, admiring their performance as they glided across the room. When the first notes of an Argentine tango echoed in the air, Adrian raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Lavinia nodded, and he grabbed her waist as she raised her leg to him in the initial movement of the passionate dance.

If the waltz had been a study in elegance, the tango soon became an incendiary dance that ignited Adrian’s senses. They moved as if they had been dancing as a couple for years. The sensuality of the notes grew into a frenzy as Adrian let her drop backward before pulling her up at the last moment. The melody ended amidst a loud applause.

“Thank you,” Lavinia said, her chest rising and falling fast. “I needed that.”

“Truly my pleasure.” Adrian bowed to her before taking her hand for a light brush. His body sang at the brief contact, and his mind supplied him with ideas of what he would like to do to her. “Can we go?” he asked instead, keeping his fangs in check.

“Yes. I don’t think I could dance another set after that tango anyway.”

“I feel the same,” he admitted, placing his arm around her shoulder to steer her toward the foyer.

After retrieving her cloak, they waited for one of the valets to drive Adrian’s Ferrari to the entrance.

Once they were parked in a secluded spot further along Villa Pamphili’s celebrated gardens, Adrian removed his domino mask and waited for Lavinia’s reaction. He kept his eyes on her, feeling the heat of his need rise like flames all around him. “I showed you mine—” he said. “You show me yours.”

A subtle blush colored the exposed part of her face.

He reached for the mask’s bracket, which she held like a shield between them. “It’s only polite.” He gently tugged at the lacquered baton, moving the half mask to the side and uncovering her face one inch at a time. His blood boiled. The act was as decadent as stripping Lavinia of her clothes, and he knew she felt the sexual undercurrent as strongly as he did. Her intake of breath and the sudden shivers on her skin told him as much.

“Exquisite,” he said when her black mask was out of the way. He feasted on her lovely traits that revealed a Mediterranean ancestry. Big, luminous green eyes, a pert nose that had a delightful small bump on its bridge, fleshy lips of a dark shade of pink, a smatter of freckles.

Lavinia’s chest rose and fell fast when he brushed the side of her throat and let his hand travel down to the swell of her breasts pushed up against the low bodice of her white gown.

“Like a beautiful bride,” Adrian whispered, acting by instinct and leaning toward the vein pulsing at the hollow of her throat.

Lavinia’s gasp resonated loud and clear in the small confines of the Ferrari—part pleasure, part fear. Resting his forehead against the softness of her chest, he dropped a chaste kiss on her gown. He wouldn’t take her in a car. Their first mating would take place in a bed of roses and only when Lavinia felt comfortable with him—with them.

Through some vagary of fate, this she-wolf was his bloodmate, and he would do everything in his power to make her happy. Even if it meant he would have to wait to feed from her vein until she gave him permission.

Exercising his legendary control, Adrian pushed himself off her and turned on the engine.

“Did you take dance lessons?” he asked, driving toward the villa’s gate.

“I watched videos on YouTube,” she answered.

“You learned how to dance the waltz watching videos?” He turned to look at her. Lavinia’s small chuckle resonated in the car, warming his ancient heart.

“I learned lots of different skills on YouTube,” she said.

Tilting his head, he studied her profile. “I’m intrigued.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt the slightest interest in anything. “What else did you learn?”

“Hmm, let’s see—” She regarded him with her liquid eyes for a moment before continuing, “How to weave a wicker basket, how to prepare Korean kimchi—”

“Korean kimchi?” he couldn’t help but interrupt her.

“Yes, you know, the fermented cabbage—”

Adrian laughed. “I know what kimchi is. Never tried it because I was turned two millennia ago and there weren’t many Korean restaurants in Rome at the time. I’m curious about why you would like to prepare fermented cabbage, though.”

“I like Korean soap operas,” she answered. “And they are always eating kimchi.”

“Have you also learned Korean, watching YouTube?”

“I’d like to, but no. I just read the subtitles.”

“Okay, what else?”

“I might tell you later,” Lavinia answered.

“Now I need to know.” He passed a car and sped up, barely making the yellow light before it turned red.

“All in due time,” she said, her tone mischievous.

“And of that, we have plenty.” Keeping a fast pace, Adrian followed the Lungotevere Road, slaloming in between cars and collecting at least a red on the final stretch to his house.

Lavinia didn’t comment on his driving but kept looking at him, and only when he parked did she say, “Didn’t we have all the time in the world?”

Adrian couldn’t help but laugh. This was the second time tonight that she had elicited such a reaction from him. Nothing short of miraculous.

“We do, indeed,” he answered, holding the passenger door for her.

“Wow,” Lavinia said after he let her inside his house. “I mean, you own a Ferrari, and I should’ve expected your house to be in the same league as your car…” She paused, her eyes roaming the foyer in a slow sweep. “But this is beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”

Used to a level of wealth very few people could boast about, Adrian was surprised by her shock, but also deeply pleased by her reaction.

“I’ve had a long time to acquire the pieces you see. A positive aspect of being undead is that what you buy today will eventually become a precious antique.” He gestured toward the double staircase at the end of the room. “Let’s go upstairs.” When she hesitated, he said, “On the second floor, there’s a small library where we can sit and talk more comfortably.”

Lavinia nodded then and followed him. Her eyes lingered on the paintings and sculptures he had been collecting since he was turned.

“I’m no expert, but these look like originals to me,” she said, pointing at a set of Etruscan vases displayed on an antique French dropleaf table.

“They are. I bought them from a Roman merchant whose wife was of Etruscan origin.” Adrian pointed at the red and black cup sitting on a shelf by itself. “This one was unearthed during the Renaissance along with the rest of the tomb’s ceremonial jewelry, which I gifted to the Etruscan Museum in Tarquinia, during World War I.” He watched her reaction with great trepidation.

Lavinia looked around before settling her gaze back on him. “You are so—”

“Ancient?” he finished for her, feeling a pang of pain.

She shook her head. “I was going to say interesting and so very different from the guys—”

His growl surprised them both.

Lavinia’s mouth opened to say something, but a loud bang from the front door area silenced her.

Adrian placed her behind him and let his fangs fully lower.