His warm tongue bathed her neck at the same time a low, primal growl sounded in his throat. His chest muscles flexed under her palms as pent-up sexual tension built within him. She ran her hands down his chest to touch his abs, then splayed her fingers on either side of his trim waist. Rose felt Duncan shudder. His entire body tightened as if he fought his need to feed.

When his teeth locked on her throat, Rose gasped in pleasure. She put a hand on the back of his neck and threaded her fingers in his hair. Tilting her head, she offered herself to him.

"I know what you need, Duncan. I won't ask for more than you can give."

Warm air escaped his nostrils, bathing her neck as he inhaled then exhaled. Once. Twice. A third time. Heat and sexual tension arced between them...suspended in the air. Duncan lowered his hand to palm her bare buttock in a firm grip at the same time two pinpricks of pain sliced through her throat.

Chapter Six

When Rose gasped at the pain, Duncan stiffened and started to pull away. But she clasped his neck, holding him in place.

"I want to know," she whispered as she pressed the tips of her breasts against his bare chest.

The pressure of Rose's hand on the back of his neck, a physical indication she wanted this, was all he needed. Duncan plunged his fangs deeper into her soft skin. He groaned in sheer ecstasy as the taste of her blood rushed forth. Sweet, untainted, intoxicating-the most unique erotic flavor he'd ever experienced.

His hips naturally rocked against her as he swallowed. Rose's moans of pleasure took his desire to new heights. He cupped her sex, wanting to take her against the glass. Fuck protection. He wanted to feel her warm juices flowing down his cock. He wanted to be buried so deep in her she'd have to let him in.

Damn, he wanted in her mind. He wanted...

Her uneven breathing coupled with her hands tugging his pants down made him want to roar. When she wrapped her fingers around his cock, he groaned. His hips began to piston back and forth. Harder. Faster.

Duncan wrapped his fingers around her wrist to stop her from pumping her hand up and down his erection, but when he heard her thoughts, I want him to let go. I don't think he shares much of himself with others. I want him to share with me, he let her have free rein.

His heart rammed in his chest as her soft hand gloved his cock, milking him. At the same time he began to climax, he felt her barrier give way in her mind. For a brief second, Duncan experienced all Rose's emotions and thoughts-her excitement and curiosity over his bite, her willingness to share her blood, her fears in opening her mind and how erotic it felt to feel him pulse in her hand as he climaxed against her.

All the emotion he'd never asked from another overloaded his mind as he rocked against her in the most satisfying sexual encounter he'd ever experienced.

"That was incredible," she whispered when he stopped moving. Her voice sounded weak and her grip around his cock loosened as her knees began to buckle.

Duncan swiftly withdrew his fangs and caught her before she slid to the floor. He lifted her sweet, limp body in his arms while emotions rolled through him in overwhelming waves-emotions he didn't want to examine. Before she'd opened her mind, he'd heard her thoughts a couple of times. How was that possible without being inside her mind?

Stepping out of his pants that had fallen to his ankles, Duncan kissed her temple. He knew she needed sleep to recover from her blood loss. He felt stronger, more revitalized than he ever had, while Rose wilted in his arms. As he looked down at her, he realized that in her weakened state, her mind was vulnerable enough that he could erase every memory she had of vampires from the past couple of days. But as he started to carry her upstairs, he selfishly refused to do so. He didn't want her to forget their experience together. Ever.

After he swiped his tongue across the wound in her neck, he kissed her jaw and laid her on the bed. Walking into the bathroom, he retrieved a clean washcloth and ran warm water over the cotton.

Duncan sat down beside Rose on the bed. She laid her hand on his thigh and gave him a tired smile while he bathed her. Once he was finished, Duncan had a hard time moving away. Rose tugged at his heart more than he ever expected. When her eyes began to close in exhaustion, he kissed her gently on the lips and whispered in her mind, Sleep, a stor.

Rose awoke, feeling as if she'd been heavily drugged. Her mind spun as she tried to move her limbs, but her muscles were slow to react. She realized she was in her own bed, wearing her sleep T-shirt and her soft comforter was pulled over her.

Daylight streamed through the wooden blind's slats, slanting across her bed in welcoming warmth. Memories of last night came flooding back and for a brief second she wondered if she'd dreamed it all-James hunting her, Duncan and the way he made her feel. Her heart jerked at the thought that everything she'd experienced might have come from her imagination.

She closed her eyes as tears burned and turned her head into her pillow. The action caused an ache to radiate up her neck-right from the spot Duncan had bitten deeply, taking her blood. Sobbing in relief that proof existed, she got out of bed and ran to stand in front of her dresser mirror. Turning her head, she lifted her chin and was disappointed that only a faint bruise remained. Her gaze drifted to her rosy cheeks and the mass of red hair that framed her face, now a total mess. Clasping the ends, she put them to her nose and took a deep breath. Duncan's scent still clung to the disarrayed locks.

His smell brought back arousing memories, causing an ache to spread like wildfire within her. She frowned as she released her hair. Duncan held true to his promise to return her to her home as soon as possible. After experiencing everything else with him, she'd been ready to feel his body against her, to relish his erection sliding inside her. She wanted to experience his width pressing against her walls, stretching her in delicious new ways. Her pulse raced and her heart hammered out of control at the thought.

Annoyed with herself for pining after a man who obviously didn't care enough to spend the night with her, she slammed her fist on her dresser top and spoke in a harsh tone, "Get over it, Rose. You've got better things to do-like solve the mystery your mother left behind."

The phone rang, interrupting her angry thoughts. Relieved by the distraction, she walked to her nightstand. Before she picked up the receiver she noted she had ten messages on her answering machine.

"Hello?"

"Where the hell have you been?"

Rose chuckled at her best friend's annoyed tone. "Mish, you only get this angry when you need me for something."

"I've been trying to reach you for two days," Michelle said. "Sam told me he'd seen you talking to some guy at Gus' Mart day before yesterday. I was pissed you didn't stop by the casino. You're lucky I haven't told your uncle you were so close and not one peep from you."

So much had happened the past couple of days, Rose had completely forgotten about seeing Sam. "Thanks for not telling Nigel. I've just been swamped lately."

"Don't think I didn't tell Nigel to save your sorry butt," Michelle snorted. "I didn't want anything to distract him from his mission."

"Sheesh, and here I thought I was missed."

"Oh, you're definitely wanted and this is how you're going to make it up to me-"

"Here it comes," Rose interrupted.

"I've heard nothing but awesome things about this band called Strainseir," Michelle rambled as if Rose hadn't spoken. "Yet for the life of me I couldn't find out when they were playing around town next. I figured with your investigative skills, you'd be able to help me. But now I've got that part all taken care of, this is where you come in."

Rose couldn't help but grin at her friend's moxie. She'd always loved that about Mish. "If you need me now, it'll have to wait. I'm working a case."

"Nah, I don't need you until tomorrow, early evening. That's when the band's playing at the Pavilion. Yep, you heard me right. They'll be here, at the Five Star. Surely you can take a few hours off."

Rose laughed at her friend's assumption.

"Well, you are your own boss," Michelle said, then immediately switched gears on her. "Now, back to this case you're working...do tell. You know I love all your spy stuff."

Rose snorted at the avid interest in Michelle's voice. "As if you don't have enough excitement going on at the casino, a lot of which you cause."

"True," she chuckled. "Are you suuure you don't need a partner in crime? I'm a fast learner."

Michelle was six years her junior and the closest to a sister she'd ever had. Many years ago, when Michelle's mother took over the chef's position in the casino's restaurant, Rose had taken Michelle under her wing. She'd always looked out for her friend, gotten her out of scrapes. At an early age, Michelle had flirted with danger on a constant basis.

If Michelle learned vampires were real... Ha! Her friend would be the first one visiting The Lion's Lair. Michelle had always faced danger with a kind of strange zealousness, hence the reason Rose would never encourage Mish to become a PI. The girl was too reckless.

"This case is personal in nature, Mish."

"Really?" Michelle sobered. "In what way?"

"My mom left me a mystery to unravel."

"How exciting! What kind of mystery?"

"I'm not really sure. She left me a locket and I think it ties to her heritage in Ireland somehow."

"That's it? That's all you're telling me?"

Rose laughed at the Michelle's miffed tone. "That's all I know at the moment. Hopefully I'll know more by the time I come by the casino tomorrow. Er, is this something I'm going to regret?" she thought to ask at the last minute.

"Of coooourse not," Michelle replied with confidence. "Trust me."

"Now that scares me." Rose chuckled. "See you tomorrow," she said, then punched the off button on the phone.

Once Rose took a shower, she shrugged into an old sweatshirt and pulled out her mother's guitar from the closet. Sitting on her bed, she placed her fingers over the strings as she'd seen Duncan do and strummed. The acoustic guitar sounded like it needed to be tuned, but she smiled and continued strumming because, even off-key, the sound brought back wonderful memories of her mother singing to her when she was a child.

After a good forty minutes of messing around with the guitar, she returned the instrument to the closet with a mental note to have it tuned. As she stood in front of her mirror combing out her hair, her mind drifted to Duncan. What is he doing now? He never did tell me what he did for a living. What kind of careers do vampires have? What does a person who lives for a very long time do to occupy his time? For that matter, just how old is Duncan? She smirked and shook her head. She really didn't want to know.

The smell of shampoo in her damp hair reminded her of their encounter against the window last night. As a rush of desire shot through her at the thought, she met her own aqua gaze in the mirror and was surprised to see the rose color on her fair cheeks. Damn the man. Look what he did to her. She set down her comb with conviction and started to turn away from the mirror and her thoughts of one sexy vampire, when her gaze landed on her sweatshirt.

She tilted her head and stared at the words University of Chicago on her sweatshirt-well, the words ogacihC fo ytisrevinU as reflected by the mirror. Realization dawned and she dashed into her living room for a piece of paper.

The notepad she'd been using at Duncan's house awaited her on the table, her keys beside it. Duncan had written a note on the bottom of the page.

Word jumbles, Roisin?

That was it. No "I'll see you later". No "Thanks for the snack and semi-sex". Nothing.

Anger boiled within her but she tamped the emotion down. This is what she wanted. No strings attached. No man in her life. To move on without emotional attachments.

Right?

Shaking herself out of her musings, she sat down at the table and looked over her notes where she'd jotted the message from her mother.

D5431571380F Staring at the sequence of numbers, she rewrote them, reversing the order.

F0831751345D Her heart pounded as she rewrote the last letter. She recognized the first six numbers before her. It was her birth date with four additional numbers tacked on the end.

Rose furrowed her brow. What did the letters at the beginning and the end as well as the four additional numbers represent?

Deciding to set that puzzle aside for a minute, she moved on to the other clue.

4NAKBONTANST6 Could it really be that simple? She wondered as she glanced between the two sets she was trying to decode. F was the sixth letter in the alphabet and D was the fourth, just like the number six and the number four on the other un-decoded piece.

F0831751345D 4NAKBONTANST6 Applying the same decoding method, she reversed the whole jumble in the un-decoded part, then separated the letters into a set of six and a set of four.

6TSNATNO BKAN4 Staring at the last set of four letters, her heart thudded as she immediately deciphered the second word. Bank. Then she moved to the first set of letters.

TSNATON Stanton Bank? Yes, Stanton Bank!

The piece of paper held her birth date, the name Stanton Bank...and the mysterious last four numbers. She sat back in the chair, biting her lower lip. The number was too short to be a bank account. Other than bank accounts, what did people have at a bank? An idea struck her and she stood to retrieve her phonebook from the drawer in the kitchen. Flipping to Stanton Bank's listing, her pulse raced as she dialed the number of a nearby branch.

"Stanton Bank, how may we help you?"

"Hi, I'm considering opening an account at your bank. Will I get a free safety deposit box with my account?"

"Yes, if you open both a saving and a checking account," the girl answered cheerfully.

"That's good to know," Rose replied. "I'm the world's worst with numbers. I'll have my bank account numbers on my checks, but please tell me the safety deposit box number is a short one. I have a tendency to lose paperwork, too," she went on, sounding as scatterbrained as she could.

The woman laughed. "Our boxes are only four digits long, so I think you'll be okay."

Bingo, she thought, then remembered to answer, "Whew, sounds good to me. Oh, one last question. How many branches does your bank have? I'd like to know there'll be a branch close to me no matter where I am in town."

"We have twenty in Chicago and surrounding areas."

"Thank you for your help."

When she hung up, Rose mumbled, "Wonderful. I get to trek to twenty Stanton Bank branches today."

Invigorated that she'd gotten somewhere with her mother's note from her locket, yet even more intrigued by her mother's need for a coded message, she walked into her bedroom to get dressed.

Once she'd pulled on a pair of jeans, a lightweight navy blue sweater and a pair of tennis shoes, Rose headed for the front door. Her cell phone rang, drawing her attention. Trekking back to the kitchen table, she picked up her cell and stared at the caller ID. It was Mr. Reed, her client.

Seven thousand dollars! her mind screamed while her fingers itched to answer the call.

Is this the only way, Rose? You'll find other clients who won't put Duncan's race at risk. Shaking her head, she set the phone back down on the table and let it go to voicemail. She really didn't know what she was going to say to Mr. Reed anyway.

"I'll find another way," she said out loud with conviction. Right now, she figured it was best to settle her own past before she could think about her future.

With that encouraging thought, she picked up her keys and headed for her front door. Rose stopped in her tracks when she remembered the last time she saw her car was at the gas station across from the casino. Damn. It's probably been towed.

She could take her motorcycle, though she didn't relish the idea of driving to several bank branches on her bike. Opening her front door, she held her breath as she peered outside. Relief washed over her to see her car sitting in the driveway, repaired window and all.

"He won't leave me a note, yet he has my car returned in mint condition? That vamp continues to confound me," she grumbled to herself as she locked her house and headed for her car.

Several hours later, Rose pulled into the parking lot of the twentieth Stanton Bank branch, her patience coming to an end. After striking out at the first two banks, she tried her best to get them to give her the range of numbers on the safety deposit boxes by branch, but since she didn't have a key, they refused to give that information out, telling her she had to visit the branches and ask the individual managers for their help. So she'd driven to every single freaking branch, her optimism quickly evaporating with each failure.

As she approached the doors to the last bank, she raised her frustrated gaze to the sky saying, "Mom, this better be the branch."

Rose blew out a breath to release pent-up tension and pulled open the door to the building. She couldn't fail. Her mother left her that message for a reason.

A young girl behind the counter called out, 'Hi, can I help you?"

"Yes, I'd like to speak with your manager please," Rose replied, approaching the counter.