“Because of what happened tonight?” The thought of her leaving filled him with a sudden sense of loss.
“No. Because . . . just because it’s time.”
His hand tightened on the steering wheel. “Where’s home?”
“Philadelphia.”
Pulling into her driveway, he put the car in park, then cut the engine.
“Thank you for driving me home,” Sheree said.
Before she could open the door, his hand closed over her arm. “Don’t go.”
“It’s late. I’m tired.”
“I mean, don’t go home. Stay here.” The words with me hung unspoken in the air.
Sheree took a deep breath, then turned to face him, her gaze probing his. “Why?”
Releasing her, Derek raked a hand through his hair. “I know I behaved badly. Treated you badly. I’m sorry. There are things you don’t know about me, things I can’t tell you. . . .”
“Like why those men were looking for you?”
“Yeah, like that.”
“Were those men cops? Are you in trouble with the law?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Nothing like that. It’s just that my life is . . . complicated.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not married, are you?”
“No, not even close.”
Sheree turned her head away again, hiding her expression from him.
Derek drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Only minutes before he had convinced himself there was no future for the two of them. If he was smart, he would listen to his own good advice and let her go before she got hurt. He had no doubt those two men were hunters. They hadn’t asked for him by name, so they didn’t know who he was—just that he was a vampire. It was a unique talent some hunters possessed, being able to ferret out members of the undead community.
Still not looking at him, she said, “Good night, Derek.”
“Dammit!” Grabbing her by the arm, he forced her to look at him.
And then he kissed her.
And she forgot all about going back to Philadelphia.
When Derek released her, Sheree blew out a deep breath. “So,” she asked, “where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, then trailed his fingertips down her cheek. “All I know is that I need you, and I hope you’ll stick around long enough to give us a chance to get to know each other better. It’s up to you.”
Her gaze searched his, but there was no hint of deception in his eyes, nothing but a look that bordered on fear. Puzzled, she wondered what he had to be afraid of.
“It’s okay,” Derek said, drawing back. “You’re smart to keep your distance.”
Taking his hand in hers, she murmured, “I’m not going anywhere. Walk me inside?”
Feeling reborn, Derek got out of the car, then opened Sheree’s door. Slipping his arm around her waist, he walked her up the steps to the front porch.
“It’s not as late as I thought,” she said. “Would you like to come in for a while?”
He hesitated, wondering if it was safe. He’d not yet fed and her blood called to him ever so sweetly. His gaze moved over her. Slender shoulders, a tiny waist, softly rounded hips.
She glanced back at him, her hand on the latch. “Derek?”
“Maybe for a little while.” He followed her inside, felt the power inherent in the threshold move through him like an electric shock. It was something he still hadn’t gotten used to, that jolt of supernatural juice capable of keeping creatures like himself from entering mortal homes uninvited. Even Mara, with all her power, couldn’t breach a threshold uninvited.
He stood inside the doorway, watching Sheree move around the room, turning on lights, straightening the newspapers and magazines scattered on the coffee table, folding the blanket lying on the chair.
She gestured at the sofa. “Please, sit down.”
He sat at one end of the couch, his gaze sweeping the room. The furnishings were decidedly feminine, from the flowered sofa and matching chair to the frilly pink curtains at the window and the collection of dainty ballerina figurines on the mantel.
“Are you going to join me anytime soon?” he asked.
“Sorry.” Biting down on her lower lip, she perched at the other end of the couch, her fingers toying with the hem of her jacket.
Derek smiled inwardly. Now that she had him here, she wasn’t sure what to do with him.
“Would you like something to eat? Or drink?”
His gaze moved to the hollow in the base of her throat. He’d love something to drink, but he was pretty sure she wasn’t offering what he needed. “No, thanks.” He draped his arm along the back of the sofa. “Do you want me to go?”