Dead Sexy
and lifted her to her feet. The fork in her hand fell to the table and skittered onto the floor.
    "Not alive?" he asked, his voice soft and silky as he drew her into his arms. "Could a dead man kiss you like this?"
    Kiss? The word jump-started her heart. He was going to kiss her. Before the thought had time to register in her mind, his mouth was swooping down on hers, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that sent frissons of heat exploding through every inch of her body before settling in the pit of her stomach. His lips were surprisingly warm, his tongue like a flame sliding over her lips, imprinting his taste on her skin like a brand.
    It was the most incredible, unforgettable, mind-blowing kiss she had ever known. It heated her blood, made her skin tingle and her toes curl, until she was aware of nothing but the man holding her in his embrace, his mouth moving over hers, by turns teasing and seductive. But for his arms holding her upright, she was certain she would have melted into a pool of liquid desire at his feet.
    She stared up at him, bereft and confused, when he broke the kiss.
    His gaze bored into hers, hot and heavy. "Has any mortal man ever kissed you like that, Regan Delaney?"
    Dazed, she shook her head.
    He smiled at her, a look of pure masculine satisfaction. "I did not think so," he said arrogantly.
    She couldn't think of anything to say, couldn't think at all. Her lips felt swollen and on fire, her legs felt like Jell-O, her mind like Swiss cheese. She would have done anything he asked, she thought, if only he would kiss her like that again. It was disconcerting to discover that one kiss could leave her feeling so muddled. No doubt making love to him would leave her in a disoriented state for days, maybe weeks.
    Lifting one hand, he cupped her cheek. His touch sent shivers of awareness and anticipation skittering down her spine. Right or wrong, she wanted his kisses more than her next breath.
    His widening smile told her he knew exactly what effect his nearness and his caresses had on her senses.
    It was annoying that he read her so easily, she thought irritably, and then grinned. He was holding her close, close enough that she could feel the effect she had on him, as well. It was nice to know it wasn't all one-sided!
    "I need to go home." She had to get out of here. She couldn't think clearly in his presence, couldn't think of anything but black satin sheets and his mouth on hers, hot and wet. She stepped out of his embrace. She needed a change of clothes, needed to check her messages, sleep in her own bed, and breathe air that didn't carry his hot, masculine scent to her with every breath.
    "I do not think that is wise."
    "I don't care what you think. I can't stay here indefinitely."
    "Wait until dusk, and I will take you."
    "I don't think there's any danger during the day. The killings have all been at night." She frowned. "I thought werewolves only shifted at night when the moon was full."
    "Most do."
    "But not Vasile?"
    "No."
    "Do you mean that he can shift anytime he wants?"
    Santiago nodded.
    "And you don't have to sleep during the day." She frowned. "Why do I feel there's a connection there?"
    "Perhaps because there is."
    Regan sat down, all thought of going home forgotten. "I'm listening."
    Santiago considered whether he should tell her the truth, then shrugged, thinking it might be wise to let her know what they were up against.
    Taking hold of the chair across from hers, he straddled it, then folded his arms across the back. "Vasile killed someone I cared for," he began slowly. "I hunted him down and we fought. During the battle, I bit him. He shifted and he bit me. The taste of his blood was like acid on my tongue. It left me feeling weak, sick. I can only guess that my blood had the same effect on him because he ran away. I am guessing that ingesting my blood drained him of strength, at least for a time. I found a new lair and…" He grinned wryly. "If you will pardon the pun, I slept like the

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