He was definitely not of this earthly plane.

Images came unbidden of the two of them in her wrought iron canopy bed. Sweat gleamed on skin as his hands stroked her overheated flesh seemingly everywhere at once. Her heart thundered in her chest as she imagined his lips on her stomach, leaving a damp trail as he moved toward her breast. His mouth closed over its aching tip and he suckled deeply as she arched off the bed toward him, wanting more of his dark magic. Her hands clinging to broad shoulders, her thighs opening to him, permitting access to the apex that wept only for this man. For his touch alone.

A whimper broke from her lips as sensation poured through her body. She jerked in her chair, her winegla.s.s clattering against her plate as she bobbled it and blindly set it down. Her breath came in gasps, the unexpected arousal leaving her unsatisfied body throbbing in places she barely acknowledged even existed.

Erihn turned and frowned at her as Jennifer gave a delighted laugh and held her hands toward the stranger in greeting. "Are you okay?" Erihn whispered.

Shai was shaken as he broke eye contact, looking away from her to speak with Jennifer. She nodded, wondering if she really was okay.

What on earth was wrong with her? She'd never reacted like that to another human being in her life. She moved the wine out of reach and picked up her gla.s.s of water. No more alcohol for her, that was forsure.

The stranger's voice interrupted her musings. It was deep and resonant with a faint accent she couldn't place. A shiver zipped across her skin. Rich, like dark chocolate, fine aged brandy or velvet, it was a voice she could listen to for an eternity. She resisted the peculiar urge to swoon.

"I had business with Jacques, the owner here." He moved with the lethal grace of a big cat.

Unconscious, s.e.xy. No mortal man should be able to move like that. It had to be illegal somewhere.

Pleasure curled in her stomach, sending waves of desire racing through her blood. Stop that.

Time to sober up. Coffee, maybe? Yes, coffee, that would surely do the trick. She glanced around for their waitress who was nowhere in sight. d.a.m.n!

The stranger laughed and her toes curled with pleasure as her gaze was dragged back against her will.

He held Jennifer's hand and Shai struggled to quell the rush of jealousy as he brought it to his mouth. His smile was intimate, his gaze knowing as he brushed his mouth over her skin.

Jennifer laughed and pulled her hand away. "Quit trying to impress me, Val. You forget yourself."

He smiled easily, unabashed by Jennifer's rejection and Shai's heart gave a little flutter. This man was dangerous to her well being and she knew, in that instant, nothing would ever be the same again.

He glanced around the table, his gaze coming to rest on her. His eyes glittered with a dark heat.

"Indeed, I do. It's hard to remember myself when I am surrounded by such beauty." He tipped his head in her direction. The dim lights gleamed in his thick glossy black hair, giving it a bluish sheen.

Melanie gave an awkward twitter as Shai forced herself to look away.

"Is it?" quipped Vivian. Her eyes were fastened to the front of the stranger's pants. "Doesn't look like it to me, but give it some time." A catlike smile curved her mouth as she licked her lips.

He chuckled as he moved around the table to take Vivian's hand and kiss it also. He crouched beside her to murmur something into her ear as Viv pressed her ample breast against his chest and circled an arm around his shoulders, tangling those obscene red nails in his hair.

Shai's cheeks heated in the face of such a blatant attempt at seduction. She shifted her gaze, staring down at her plate while trying to ignore Vivian. She'd never been the kind of woman who attracted men easily. There were times when simply conversing with a man could bring on hives.

She wished she could slip under the table and vanish in the face of her friend's easy sensuality.

The soft caress of a fingertip touched her cheek, bringing her head up. She glanced around. No one was even looking in her direction, let alone close enough to touch her.

"Shai." Jennifer's voice brought her attention back to the table. "I'd love for you to meet someone. This is Valentin and he's a very old and dear friend of mine." She waved her hand in hisgeneral direction. "Val, this is Shai Jordan, a much newer friend of mine."

Shai caught the amus.e.m.e.nt in Jennifer's voice and flushed. She tensed as the dark man untangled himself from Viv and moved toward her with his lazy grace. A richly embroidered vest hung open, displaying laces on his flowing white shirt. Open at the throat, it revealed the strong column of his throat melding into broad muscular shoulders. Black jeans clung to taut muscular thighs. A black belt with a plain gold buckle circled his waist and black boots encased his feet.

Easily he captured her hand within his much larger one. Warmth surrounded before invading her chilled flesh. Strong fingers, artist's fingers, encircled hers as he slowly raised her hand toward his mouth. "Enchante." His breath teased the sensitized skin of her knuckles.

His lips were warm and dry, eliciting a shiver as his tongue touched the back of her hand. Carnal images crowded her mind as desire burned her like a wildfire. Before her eyes flashed images of this man in her bed, buried deep within her, burrowing into her very soul.

Val pulled away, his teeth shutting with a sharp click and Shai caught a glimpse of an emotion akin to shock racing across his face. Was he in pain?

"Are you okay?" she asked, startled when her voice came out husky.

He flashed her a picture perfect smile. "Better than I was before meeting you." He straightened smoothly, never releasing her hand. "Ladies, it has been a great pleasure seeing you, but I am afraid I have to run."

He glanced down at Shai, his gaze capturing and holding hers easily. "Business does not await my personal pleasures." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Vivian fairly purred her displeasure. "That's too bad, Val. It's been such along time since we've seen each other. We're headed to the Pyramid after dinner. Maybe you can join us there?"

"Indeed, it has been a long time. If I can get away, it would be an honor to join you ladies this evening."

His gaze never left Shai's as he raised her hand to his lips once again. "Until next we meet, little one." He kissed her hand a second time, his teeth brushing her skin before he released her. Turning, he headed toward the door, every woman's eye on him as he exited.

"Nowthat is a fantasy," Erihn announced into the silence.

"It seems our little Shai caught Val's eye," Jennifer commented.

"Lucky girl. I've been after him since he first appeared in New York about a year ago." Vivian's tone was sour. "Never even looked twice at me."

"I certainly wouldn't kick him out of bed," Melanie said.

"I wouldn't either," Shai, still feeling dazed, spoke through numb lips.

Vivian laughed, her pique apparently forgotten. "It's about d.a.m.ned time. A man to turn Shai's head. And what a man he is." She leaned closer to Shai. "Watch out, little one. Val is one of the sharks in the ocean of life," she paused. "Of course, that makes him all the more desirable." She raised her winegla.s.s. "Here's to Shai and her deepest, darkest fantasies. Long may Val fill them...and a few other things."

"I don't..." Shai began, only to realize they were no longer listening to her. Shivers danced along herspine as she recalled his deep blue eyes and sinfully s.e.xy mouth.

"Oh, what the h.e.l.l... Here's to fantasies."

Chapter 2.

Shai tumbled headfirst through her apartment door. Clinging to the doork.n.o.b, she skidded to a stop as her oversized purse banged into the coat tree, sending it crashing to the floor. She straightened and stared at it, her vision distorted as if she were underwater.

"b.u.mmer."

Her voice sounded slurred and she giggled as she kicked the door shut with one foot. She started across the wood floor toward the darkness of her bedroom door. As she walked, she discarded her clothing in an uneven trail, marking her progress through the apartment. Her silk jacket landed on the arm of a chair, her purse a hill of soft leather in the middle of her living room. Next came her black skirt, a puddle of velvet in the hall.

As she neared the doorway, she noticed with alarm that the room was tilting. She reached out a hand to brace herself against the wall and keep herself upright.

"What the..." She glanced down at her feet. One high-heeled shoe was missing. She turned too fast only to send her head spinning and she staggered into the wall with a thud. "Oooof..." She squinted toward the hall, looking for the missing footwear. Her errant shoe lay tangled in her skirt.

"Too much effort." Turning, she stumbled through the door, losing her other shoe in the process. Her shirt slithered to the floor.

Her four-poster bed lay bathed in a pool of brilliant moonlight. The windows were wide open and a soft, humid breeze tugged at the heavy blue drapes. With a sigh of delight, Shai fell onto the bed, her body numb with drink and sensual intoxication. Her fingers curled into the crisp white sheets. Oh, how she loved her bed. It was the best bed in the world. Unbidden, an image of Val entered her mind. She groaned.

Val in her room.

In her bed.

In her.

She closed her eyes and grabbed a pillow to cradle it against her overheated body. Enough of that.

Fantasies were one thing, but her reality was that a man like Val would never be interested in a boring, white-cotton woman like her.

She sighed into her pillow and scrunched her face deeper into the pristine cotton, willing her body to relax. Within seconds, she gave in to the demands too much alcohol had placed on her, and she fell asleep.

She looked like a wh.o.r.e.

The vampire settled on the windowsill, mere feet from the woman's sleeping form. A derisive smile curled his lips. Wh.o.r.e or not, she was even more exquisite than he'd ever imagined.

Thick red hair lay tumbled across her pillow in a river of curls. Dark lashes shadowed her cheeks, hiding eyes he knew were a brilliant green. A small, delicately shaped nose with a slight b.u.mp at the bridge as if it had been broken at one time. Her mouth was generous with a full lower lip and slightly thinner upper one. Her skin was the creamy delight of a redhead. Her throat was slender, marred only by a small scar at the base on the right side.

Perfection.

A black lace bra barely covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, full and round. He ached to touch them, to taste them. Her belly looked soft and inviting while her hips and upper thighs were covered by a silk half-slip. Naughty black nylons encased her thighs and lovely calves down to slender ankles and feet. A delicate gold ankle bracelet glittered in the moonlight.

He certainly appreciated her choice in underclothing. But he was surprised that a woman as conservative as Shai would dress like a seasoned harlot beneath her street clothes.

It would be so easy to kill her, he thought dispa.s.sionately. He knew exactly where to touch her slender throat and, in mere seconds, she'd be one of the dearly departed. Just another victim found dead in their bed in the city called New York.

He looked at his hands, his pale skin gleaming white in the moonlight. They didn't look like they were over nine hundred years old. Nine hundred years of murder, mayhem and blood. He stroked his chin. For Shai's sake, it would be more humane for her if he did kill her with his hands. Quick and efficient, no fuss no muss. No mortal would want to live through what he'd planned for her.

But even when he'd been human, he hadn't been humane.

A mirthless smile curved his mouth.

Oh, how he wanted her. More now than the first time he'd laid eyes on her. Every year, the desire had grown stronger until he'd reached this breaking point. Sitting outside of her bedroom window watching her sleep, l.u.s.ting after her yet unwilling to touch her.

Yet. Soon her time would come.

A faint, self-deprecating laugh escaped him.

She stirred in sleep, a frown marring the perfection of her face. As if she knew he was there, she turned her face and twisted her body away from his gaze as if to avoid him. The silk half-slip tightened, sliding up to reveal the tops of her stockings and the tiny black thong panties she wore.

The vampire's breath caught in his throat and a faint hiss of air escaped him. Her panties left nothing to the imagination. Moonlight gilded the perfection of her skin, the smooth slopes and tantalizing indentations. Her backside was larger than considered fashionable by today's standards. But it was perfectly round and taut. He preferred his women to be shaped like women, not sticks with b.o.o.bs. This beauty had something to hang onto, a backside that would fill his ample hands admirably.

He longed to slip in her window and grab her, pulling her against his raging erection. To bury himself in her softness until she cried. He pictured himself in bed with her, her body moving against him, her eyes sleepy with l.u.s.t.

A growl escaped his throat.

With one last look at the sleeping woman, he turned away. Mortal women. They were the downfall of many a vampire. To meld with living flesh, breathing and crying out beneath him, on top of him, it didn't matter. It was an addiction and he was in serious need of a fix.

Weakness was weakness and it had to be either destroyed or appeased. He glanced back at her. It was rare that a mortal had reached him the way she did, the way she always had.

Just as her mother had many years before.

He bared his teeth. The moonlight seemed even more brilliant than it had been before. It was time to feed and feed he must. Clicking his jaw in frustration, the vampire caressed her one last time with his gaze. Moving with the near silence of one of the very old, he leapt from the window to the alley thirty feet below.

He landed with a gentle thud and straightened, checking to ensure his clothing was in perfect order before moving toward the mouth of the alley and the darkened streets beyond.

Shai's time would come, as would her companions. He knew that for a certainty. Unfortunately her friends were average, not exceptional like her. If they'd been exceptional, he might have spared them. The only possible exception was Jennifer. She could be a problem. But the rest of them would serve their purpose and serve it well.

First things first, though. There was a merry game to be played. The players in this drama were in place and act one had already commenced.

Laughter filled the night as the vampire faded into the shadows.

"So who's the woman?"

Val started, the forgotten book falling from his fingertips to land on the pine floor with a hollow thump.

He looked up to see his unexpected visitor standing near the fireplace, a bemused expression on her face. "Miranda, what a lovely surprise. I didn't hear you pop in."

A silvery laugh echoed in the expanse of the library. "That's a new one." Miranda shed her black velvet cape and draped it over the back of the chair across from him. She stooped to rescue the leather-bound book from the floor. "Wuthering Heights," she read, carefully closing the cover. Her crimson fingernailsgleamed in the subdued lighting as she stroked the priceless binding. "First edition, even. Dreaming of unrequited love, my friend?" A smile danced across her face as she perched on the arm of the opposite chair.

"Just enjoying a cla.s.sic, my dear." Val rose from the chair to reclaim his book from her.

She didn't release it. "What's her name?"

"And why do you think a woman is on my mind?" he asked, careful to keep his tone light.

Her smile turned sad, almost disappointed. "And who knows you better than I? You can fool others, but you can never fool me."

He brushed his finger down her cold cheek. The first time he'd laid eyes on her, he'd thought Miranda was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Hair as black as night fell in thick luscious waves to her tiny waist. Skin the color of clotted cream, by contrast her lips were full and red. Deep blue eyes framed in sooty lashes stared, unflinching in their regard of him. Tall and built like a Rubenesque statue, she was perfection wrapped in a rich, black velvet dress. She was a woman many men would desire.

Miranda was his dark angel, his savior. She'd saved him from himself many times through the years they'd been friends and confidants. But he also knew she wanted more, much more than he could give. It pained him to hurt her so. When he'd met the red-haired angel last night, he'd known it was inevitable that someone would be hurt. Unfortunately, it would be Miranda.

"Never you, Miranda," he whispered.

She released her grip on the book; her gaze unwavering as she folded her hands in her lap like a prim spinster at an afternoon tea. "She's mortal?"

"Yes." His tone was resigned. Didn't she see that he didn't want to hurt her with this?