"Are you naked?" I asked before catching myself.

He regarded me with suspicion. "Is this another trick question?"

"No, never mind. Look, here's what I meant-drink my blood. I had Gregor's blood a couple of weeks ago, so some of it might still be in me. Maybe enough to make a difference. Get it?"

Bones's expression hardened and he gestured to me with an impatient swipe. "Come here."

Oh, now he was all business.

"I can't believe you would have let me order you to munch on me," I grumbled, circling the bed to sit by him.

His hand shot out, pulling me closer. "Considering what you overheard the other day, I reckon it's the least I could do."

I didn't have a chance to respond. His mouth went to my throat, I felt his tongue seeking out the right spot, and then he bit.

The warmth hit me almost immediately. Bones's arms supported me, sensing when my spine went to jelly. Deep, steady suctions curled my toes while heat cascaded through me. I knew I was making little gasping sounds, but damned if I could help it. This didn't just feel hot, good, and sensual. It felt necessary. Like if he didn't drink me, somehow I'd be the one who was left starving.

I moaned his name, reaching up to touch him. He caught my hands, holding them to my sides while he drew away and closed the punctures with his blood. I swayed without his support, glad I was sitting or I might have fallen over.

"Bones?" I made his name question this time, not an exhalation of enjoyment.

"It didn't do anything, Catherine. Best you leave now."

He looked away when he said it, his shoulders rigid. Everything about him was distant and almost angry.

I got up, cursing myself for not thinking of trying this sooner. What if a couple of more days would have made all the difference?

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and returned to my room as fast as I'd left it.

The next morning, I woke up to find that Bones was already gone. After breakfast, I gave Denise a hug and told her there was something I had to do. Then I marched to the stables and grabbed a shovel.

About fifteen minutes into cleaning the first stall, a teenage boy with freckles and brown hair came running in the stable.

"Stop!"

This I'd expected. "What's your name, kid?"

"Uh, people just call me Pony."

"Pony? Call me Red. I'm House, right? So as House, I get to do certain things. Today I'm going to clean out these stalls and then exercise and rub down the horses. Is that your job?"

"Uh-huh." He chewed his lip nervously.

"Take the day off, Pony. If anyone gives you trouble, send them to me. You can't talk me out of this, so don't bother. Now be a good kid and point me to the feed, okay? Don't worry; I know what I'm doing."

Eight blissful hours of labor later, I felt better. Finally I'd done something productive. The stalls were sparkling although I was covered in dirt, manure, sweat, and straw. Pony had hung around most of the day, trying not to be noticed. Maybe he was afraid I'd screw something up and was preparing for damage control. I gave him a wave when I went into the house, laughing to myself at his dumbfounded expression.

Yeah, kid. Chicks can do the same things boys can.

I took my time in the shower to get the stench of the stalls from me. Then I pulled my damp hair into a ponytail and put on jeans and a comfortable shirt. When I went downstairs, I was in a much better mood. And hungry. Spade and Denise were in the lounge sipping sherry, looking sophisticated even in these rural surroundings.

"Who do I ask to get a burger and some french fries? Oh, and a milkshake."

Spade gave me a mocking grin. "Not going to insist on peeling the potatoes, milking the cow, and churning the ice cream yourself? You must be knackered."

"You can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl," I said tartly, refusing to let him ruin my mood. "Want to check under my fingernails to see if I missed some dirt?"

"I shouldn't wonder if you did." He gestured to a computer across the room. "It's for in-house use. Type what you want and when you want it. They'll send it up."

"Thanks."

Forty minutes later, I was devouring my second burger. Yep, the first one had been that good. Instead of another milkshake, I drank a Coke. Since Denise and Spade probably wanted some time alone together, I let them be and ate on the balcony. I'd just settled back and let out a contented burp when Bones's voice almost made me leap out of my skin.

"Hello, Catherine."

My plate skidded across the floor from my jump. "Holy hell, when did you sneak in here?"

Bones bent for the dish even as I hurried to do the same. His fingers brushed mine when each of us grasped it. I let go first, that cursed awkwardness setting in again.

"Ah, thanks. Don't know why I'm so jumpy. And I guess I should apologize for the truck-driver burp. Charming, huh?"

He set the plate down and his mouth twitched. "Actually, it was. It's the first time I've seen you relaxed. My apologies for startling you. Mencheres and I walked the last few miles back; that's why you didn't hear the car."

I had no idea what to say. After last night's babble fest, then my seriously misinterpreted directive, maybe silence was the best option.

Bones sat down on a nearby chaise lounge. I picked the one across from him and sat.

At that, he vacated his spot and sat next to me, an arched brow daring me to move. "We can do this all night."

I laughed at the idea of playing musical chairs with a vampire about to hit his bicentennial birthday. "Just to see Spade's face, we should."

He laughed as well, an easy chuckle that doused me with nostalgia. His hand found mine and I squeezed back out of habit until reality made me pull away.

Or try to.

His fingers tightened, not letting me go. "We can do this all night too, but really, can't you let me at least hold your hand?"

"God, Bones, I have no idea what I'm doing."

The words escaped in a moment of truthful frustration. Now I really tried to get away, but that made him coil his arms around me.

"Stop. I told you that you smelled familiar. You feel familiar as well, and right now, that's all I have to go on."

I stopped squirming. Bones leaned back, maneuvering me until I was cradled by his arms and legs. His chest was my support, and he propped another pillow under him before making a satisfied noise.

"Much better. Are you comfortable?"

I was. My back fit into his chest and his leg dangled off the lounge as it had the many previous times he'd held me like this. The familiarity plus not having to look at him helped quell my awkwardness.

"I'm not making this any easier on you, am I?" I murmured. "You'd be so much better as the spouse of the amnesia sufferer. I'm screwing things up seven ways to Sunday."

"No, you're not, and please quit cataloguing your faults. I don't care if you belch, never wear makeup, chew with your mouth open, or scream profanity in church. Loyalty and honesty, as I told you, are the only two qualities I bother about."

"So it would have been fine if I had been sixty, zaftig, and with a spine like a question mark?"

His snort of laughter tickled my ear. "Yes. Though I would have needed to research the best way to shag you."

I elbowed him. "You probably already know."

Another snort. "A gentleman never tells."

"If I marry one, I'll remember that."

My dry comment only made him laugh again. The way his breath kept hitting my skin sent pleasant shivers through me, and I didn't think it was an accident.

"You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?"

"Of course."

He sounded even more amused. If it were an English term, he probably would have followed it up with duh.

"Save your breath, I'm not sleeping with you yet. Getting to know someone before you find their G-spot is probably a new experience for you. At least this way I'll be original."

Now his laughter didn't hit my neck, because he threw his head back to let it out without restraint. "Don't fret, Catherine. Even if you weren't my wife, you'd still be an original, but please, tell me all about yourself. I wanted to know everything anyway, but that infinitely lovely 'yet' makes me even more anxious."

"You shouldn't be in such a rush." This topic was starting to make me antsy again. "After all, I might suck in bed."

"Be still my nonbeating heart."

It took me a second, then I elbowed him again. "I'm serious. I suppose we should discuss it though, so, ah, something doesn't come up at a bad time..." I tried to find the right words without blushing.

"I suppose I was very hard to please?" he asked wryly. "Berated you if I wasn't satisfied, did I?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why do you believe I would now?"

Too late, I saw the trap. Aw, hell, how to explain?

"Don't take this the wrong way. You... you loved me. Even the first time, when I didn't know anything, you loved me and it... it meant you were grading on a wide curve, okay?"

"Ah." A pause. "Was I your first?"

This was a very personal topic, but it was about him too. Even if he didn't remember.

"My second, but I don't really count the guy before you. He took my 'no' as a 'come and get me!'"

"What was his name?"

"Danny Milton." Wow. Been a while since I'd thought about him.

"One l or two?"

His tone was so causal, it took me a second. "One l, why... Oh! Are you serious? With everything going on, you'd want to track him down?"

He sat up, jostling me with a little the motion. "With that description, yes."

Since Danny was dead, there was no point in arguing further. "Rest easy then. You already killed him."

"Good."

He leaned back and we sat in silence for a few more minutes. The whole thing felt surreal. Like the past two months hadn't happened and we were back on our own porch just watching the sky together. Every so often, he'd inhale and exhale. Listening to that felt strangely intimate, especially since I felt the rise and fall of his chest against my back. Bones didn't need to breathe, so he was taking my scent into him. Repeatedly.

He was the one who broke the silence. "When I saw you kiss Vlad, I wasn't merely affronted because you were my wife. It... hurt for an instant. Very unexpected, that. And now, instead of learning more about my past with Charles or Mencheres, I'd rather sit here with you. To be frank, it frightens me."

"Why?" My voice was hushed, like the one you'd use if you were sharing secrets in the dark.

His lowered too, until it was soft but not yet a whisper. "I have so much to lose. Overnight, I'm Master of my own line and at war with another Master, but that's not what I'm afraid of. I have experience in leading and in fighting, yet it seems I've already been a shoddy husband. I'm afraid to fail you again, Catherine."

I squeezed his hand. "You don't know how to fail. And before... before our big blowout, you made me very happy, Bones."

He didn't move, but the mood became different. Quiet confessions turned into something else. I felt it in the quickening of his power, the flex of coiling energy beneath me.

"I'd like to make you happy again." His voice thickened. "It doesn't have to be about me. I'll stay within whatever limits you set."

The fact that for a second, a part of me considered it made me fling myself way from him. "No. Believe me; you've already proven yourself in that regard. I-I'm not ready to open that door and I'm not going to crack it, either. You don't deserve to do penance on me while I get off."

Bones watched me while I paced, staying in his reclined position on the chaise longue. Damn him for being so gorgeous, and God help me, I did still want him, no matter that I was dealing with my hurt over everything that had happened, both with and without his memory.

His mouth lifted in his old, knowing smile, and when he inhaled again, that smile widened. "Your desire scents the air, so let me know when you change your mind. It's not penance, I assure you. I simply want you any way I can have you."

I had to leave, now. Before my chastity went up in flames.

"Good night."

I left the balcony. Bones didn't follow. As I headed toward my bedroom, I heard him take in another long breath and then let it out in a sigh.

What do you do when you're on a diet and your favorite food is within gobbling distance? I tried more pacing in my bedroom, but that didn't help. Turned on the TV, but that only made it worse. All the local channels were off, leaving just the premiums. No matter what I flipped to, it seemed sex was on every one. Finally, with grim frustration, I ran a bath and settled myself into the tub. Well, it had been a while since I'd done what I was about to do-Bones normally kept me more than sated, so I hadn't needed to self-satisfy-but it had to be like riding a bike, right?

Of course, that didn't turn out as planned either.

First I was too rough. I attacked my flesh like it had done something wrong, which only increased the need while doing nothing to ease it. Great, now I was sore and frustrated. Finally I forced myself to go slower and to think happy thoughts. The warm water soothed my previous attempts and my gentleness began to pay off. At last, progress. My breath shortened, fantasies and memories intermingling in my mind.

Bones's hands all over me, teasing, seeking, driving me insane. The weight of his body pressing me into the bed. His mouth between my legs, tongue stroking, delving, and flicking, until I couldn't stand it anymore. Then that hard, deep thrust as he'd push himself inside me- And him flinging open the bathroom door to come toward me. I froze in shock, my hand still jammed between my legs. Then I found my voice. "Get out!"