Free For Love or Vengeance by Caridad Piñeiro

of his kiss.
    He moved lightly against her mouth, an invitation rather than a command, as if knowing the latter would have been refused. Tentatively she accepted, meeting the sweep of his lips and deepening the contact. She opened her mouth to taste him and permit his exploration as he eased the tip of his tongue in to graze hers.
    She moaned with need and the unexpected desire he aroused. The sound was loud in the quiet of the room. So loud it awakened them from whatever insanity had possessed them, breaking them apart.
    They were both breathing heavily as she stood there, her fists clenched against the desire to reach for him again.
    Someone walking in might have assumed they were fighting. And maybe they were. She was definitely fighting—for control.
    He spoke first. “I’m sorry, Helene. That was out of line.”
    “No need to apologize. We’re both adults and desire is a natural thing,” she said, attempting to downplay her fear that it had been much more than passion that had brought them together.
    It worked. Miguel wasn’t the kind of man who indulged in desire just for desire’s sake. That would be too shallow. His lips—those mobile, engaging lips that had only seconds before brought her such pleasure—became a pencil-thin line.
    “It won’t happen again,” he said, and before she could utter another word, he stalked from the room.

    “You look like you could use another,” Foley said, and nudged one more shot of tequila at her. “This one’s on the house.”
    She shook her head and smiled. “I warned you the other day, Daniel. All the sweet-talking and liquor in the world are not going to get you a taste of me.”
    A devilish grin swept onto his lips. “A man can try, can’t he? After all, I’ve got nothing to lose.”
    “Man? A vamp, you mean. As for losing—” She picked up the shot and downed it in one gulp. “It could get expensive to keep giving me free shots.”
    Foley crossed forearms on the bar, the grin still alive on his face. “And why would I keep giving you free shots if they’re not going to get you in my bed?”
    She raised one brow and shot him a playful glare because there was just something about Foley that inspired lightheartedness. Or at least this Foley. She had learned his story during her last visit to the Blood Bank and knew he hadn’t always been this way.
    Foley responded with amusement. “Oh, right. I forgot you could turn me into a toad or melt me with the light of a thousand suns, Nemesis.” For good measure, he raised an arm to his forehead and struck a theatrical pose.
    “My name’s Helene.”
    “For the moment, my love. When you go back to Olympus—”
    “I’ll never go back,” she cut in, and shot him a glare, laser-sharp and hot with anger.
    He held up his hands in apology. “Sorry, Helene. Forgot about the daddy issues.”
    “I think I’m hungry. Care for some Chinese?” she asked, and watched the color drain from his face.
    “I guess I deserved that,” he said, and turned to walk away.
    She grabbed hold of his hand. “No, wait. I’m sorry,” she said. Seemed like she was saying those words more often in the last week than she had for centuries.
    “Me too. We shared some confidences, and—”
    “And maybe that was a mistake,” she finished for him.
    He surprised her with a reassuring squeeze of her hand. “What I was going to say is that I shouldn’t have used it against you. As a dig. Friends don’t do that.”
    Helene eyed him warily, even released her second sight to confirm his state of mind. One hundred percent repentant. Totally truthful. A trait she hadn’t encountered very often, especially in men. And yet, here Fate had plopped two incredibly honest men in her lap within days.
    “Are we friends, Daniel?” she asked. In all her life, she’d had no real friends. She hadn’t realized before this week just how lonely her existence had been.
    Foley smiled and slowly nodded. “We are, and I can see from your