La Vida Vampire

“God, you’re responsive,” he said hoarsely.

I fought to get my brain back in working order. “That’s a good thing, right?”

He raised his head enough to look in my eyes. “Hell, yes. It’s great.”

“So why are we stopping?”

“Because,” he said, grabbing the remote and shifting me back to rest on his chest, “I won’t stop at all if we go any further.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Cesca, watch the show.”



I was still cooling off when Saber proposed a contest to see which of us could solve the mystery before Monk did. Maybe Saber was still coming down, too. The rod in his jeans sure hadn ’t softened during the postkiss Monk episode. I found some satisfaction in that. Not as much as I wanted, but, hey, since Saber showed no signs of making another pass, and since I wasn ’t blinded by flashes of insight into our own case, I took him up on the contest.

Four episodes later, we were tied at two solutions each.

During the last episode, near dawn, I felt Saber’s breathing go slow and rhythmic, and I let my eyes drift shut. I awoke on my bed, the rose-colored chenille throw from Maggie’s room covering me, Saber whistling from the kitchen. I sat up to read the clock on the other side of the bed. It was three thirty, but I noticed more than the time of day. The second pillow on my bed held the impression of a head. The head that made the dent wasn’t mine. Oh, my.

Had Saber really slept with me? And I missed it?

Did I snore? Oh, please, let me not have snored.

Before I worked myself into a tizzy, Saber knocked on the bedroom door, and I whipped around to face him.

“Hey, how’s your shoulder?” he asked as he came to stand by the bed.

Dressed in blue jeans and a lighter blue cotton shirt, no shoes, he smelled of soap, shampoo, and vital, virile man. I gulped. What had he asked me?

“Here, let me take a look at it,” he said, reaching for me.

I hurriedly held the shirt against my chest. “It’s fine. Really. I bet it’s all healed.”

“Then I’ll get the bandage off for you.” He pulled the neck of my shirt back slowly enough for me to keep my breasts covered, then peeled off the tape and gauze as he casually added, “It healed. Good. Oh, by the way, March called.”

“When? Did he arrest Etienne?”

“He called at three. No arrest.”

“Why not?”

Saber shrugged. “No evidence.”

“None at all? What about a boat? Did the divers find one?”

Saber sat on the bed and took my hand. “No, and Etienne is hinting at harassment. Said he wants Yolette ’s body tomorrow so he can leave. If we try to detain him, he’ll be on the phone to his consulate and the press.”

“But, Saber, we know he did it.”

“Technically, we don’t know. We need hard evidence to make murder charges stick.” He shook his head. “We could still get lucky, but I’m not optimistic.”

“We could trick him into admitting to the crimes.”

“Not without stomping on his rights.”

“But he’s not a U.S. citizen.”

“All the more reason we can’t entrap him,” Saber said.

“So there’s nothing we can do?”

He waggled his brows. “Well, I can think of a thing or two, but you need to return a call from your tour company, and Maggie phoned to tell you she’ll be home by seven.”

“Oh.” I bit my lip but had to ask. “Are you going back to Daytona?”

“Not tonight,” he said, rising from the bed. “You’re down to one bottle of Starbloods, and I thought you might need a ride to the health food store tomorrow.”

It was a lame excuse, and I knew he knew I knew it. But what the heck. Saber was staying a little longer.

“Sure, that would be great.” I smiled as I rose from the bed and stood within a foot of him.

“Fine, then. I’ll let you return your call and get dressed. ” But he didn’t move toward the door. “I’m going out for a sandwich. You want anything?”

“No thanks.”

I stood rooted to the floor. So did Saber.

“I’ll lock you in, just in case.”

“Okay.”

Pheromones spiked—his and mine. His eyes darkened and, when he stepped closer, I swayed toward him. He lifted a tangled lock of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. “Princesca.”

I blinked at the nickname. “What?”

“I watched you sleep this afternoon.”

I nodded. “I saw the indention in the pillow.”

“You don’t sleep like you’re dead.”

“I don’t?”

“No,” he said, cupping my jaw. “You make little sighing noises in your sleep.”

“Oh.” I didn’t snore? Yes!

“I’m going to do now what I wanted to do then.”

“Wh-what?”

He framed my face with his hands, his fingers sliding into my hair. “Kiss you again.”

My body went liquid. “Will this be soon?”