The brief ceremony was highlighted by an exchange of wedding rings, and she learned that in Italy, the wedding ring was worn on a woman’s right hand. Afterwards, they signed the register, and Alexander introduced her to the woman she had noticed earlier. Ysabelle, as cheerful as a spring flower in her suit, glowed with energy and good humor.Ysabelle shared the limousine that ferried them to the church, and Alexander translated his grandmother’s rapid-fire questions.Asked if she liked children, Miah declared that she adored them and hoped to have two or three. Ysabelle followed up that response with others of a more housewifely note. Did she cook? Yes, but she didn’t bake very well. Did she sew? Not really; the ability to sew on a button was Miah’s only talent in that field. Did she embroider or knit? No, she didn’t embroider, but she had loved knitting ever since she created tiny garments for a friend’s baby. Alexander was accustomed to women without domestic skills, and he was quic

Alexander’s mouth moved over her full breast, hot and hungry, so that her body did a meltdown, her insides turning to molten lava. She wanted him to touch her, to explore every inch of her skin with his mouth. His tongue was swirling around her hard nipples and her velvet sheath tightened and tightened so that she was drowning in pleasure. He moved with sure, hard strokes, their bodies coming together, his hands biting into her hips while he held her still for his invasion. She wanted him like this over and over.She could read the erotic pictures in his mind, the things he intended to do to her, the things he wanted her to do to him, and she wanted every one of them. Her body was spinning out of control and she clung to him, a soft sound of sheer pleasure escaping before she could stop it. She didn’t want to stop it, she wanted this moment to last for all eternity. She wanted to take her time and explore every inch of his hard, perfect body. She wanted to drive him out of his mind wi

At once, she was uncomfortable and stiff. She could smell his cologne, and though it was expensive, it made her feel slightly nauseated. It was strange, she had always rather liked his cologne, yet now she thought only of the way Alexander smelled—his musky, male scent. Was that part of the ritual, the binding? Did it make it impossible for her to touch another man? Was that the secret the men of their race held over the women? She shoved an impatient hand through her hair and found her fingers were trembling. Maybe there was a way to undo what the ritual words had wrought. After all, she had done the impossible: she had found a way to walk among humans in the noonday sun. Alexander might have reversed her accomplishment, but that didn’t negate the fact that she had done what no other supernatural ever had. “I’m not doing anything, Bert. I don’t know what to do, so I’m not doing a single thing. I’m not asking you to put your life on hold or to wait. I’ve always told you to find a swee

The man stood so close that she could see the hair on his chest through his dirty shirt. He smelled of cheap whiskey and rye. The taint of drugs seeped from his pores. She met his gaze with a calm acceptance of his rage. If he struck her, her friends would see to it that he would be locked up for a very long time. And he was going to strike her. The air was thick with tension. “You bitch. You need a real man to show you how to behave. Your simpering little doctor probably runs to you every time you crook your little finger.” Deliberately, he cupped his crotch lewdly. “You smell good, lady, and I’ll bet your skin is as soft as it looks.” He was breathing too fast, already stiff, and licking his lips with anticipation. His hand moved to touch her face, to feel if her skin could possibly be as soft as it looked. “Don’t!” It was a sharp command. Miah didn’t move. Her eyes blazed at him, glaring with contempt. He was incapable of performing sexually. She knew that much about him. Vulgarly

Meanwhile, Bert pushed into the room, revealing something very close to fear in his eyes when he looked over at Alexander’s clone. He glanced at Miah talking so intimately with the teenager, and stopped himself from speaking. He glared at Alexander, who smiled rather sarcastically at him, arrogance etched into his classical Italian features. It annoyed the doctor that the man was so good-looking, so tough. Alexander’s rescue of Miah made him look bad. He couldn’t afford to take a chance on breaking his hands. He was a doctor, for heaven’s sake.Alexander half closed his eyes as Miah swirled her tongue over the tiny pinpricks in his neck to close them, savouring the moment and the feeling. She lifted her head, her gaze drowsy, sexy, and satiated, almost as if they had made love. He bent his head and kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for one more heartbeat before reluctantly allowing her to slip away, to take the place of the clone in the chair by the bed. “Thank you, Alexan