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had told her he was a vampire. That she was one now, too. It wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare, and it was her life. "Seamus… is that really your name?"
    "Yes, it's really my name."
    "Am I really a vampire?"
    "Yes."
    Not what she wanted to hear. Not good, not good at all.
    Overcome with nine thousand conflicting feelings, all of them ugly and frightened and hysterical, she stared up into his gorgeous face and searched for something—compassion, friendliness, anything. All she saw was discomfort.
    "It will be fine," he said.
    "I hate you," she replied, and embarrassed herself by bursting into tears.
    Seamus dropped the washcloth, put out his hand, and patted her head. "Shit, don't do that. Don't cry, it's okay."
    She swatted at his hand. He was petting her like a dog. "Go away and die." Then she started laughing, hysterical snuffling snorts. "But you can't, can you? You can't die."
    "No." He shook his head, looking baffled. "And neither can you now."
    Pushing hard on his chest, she sat up. She couldn't lie there like that, feeling helpless, him hovering over her. She choked back more sobs and demanded, "Why didn't you leave me dead in the street? I don't want to be a vampire! I don't like the sight of blood. I don't like black. I'm in vet school and I have three dogs and two cats at home."
    Just the thought of her animals sent her into a panic. "My babies! What's going to happen to them? I have to call my neighbor so she can let them out in the morning. They're used to me getting home around three."
    "Your… babies?"
    "My dogs. I have two Labs and a Chihuahua, plus a tabby and a tiger." Cara stood up, tugging her robe together at her breasts, and glanced around. Where was the freaking door? She may be dead, but she wasn't Seamus's prisoner. Cara spotted the front door and charged for it.
    She got two feet before her legs gave out from under her. The carpet rushed up to meet her and she was two inches from a resounding splat when Seamus grabbed her and scooped her up.
    "Whoa… take it easy. You need some time before you go tearing off." He smiled down at her as he cradled her in his arms.
    It was that charming smile again. The one that pissed her off because she couldn't help but feel her body respond to it. The memory of his hands rubbing over her chest rushed through her mind, making her feel warm and distracted. He really was so damn attractive.
    "I'll take care of your pets," he said in a low, gentle voice. "And I didn't leave you on the street dead because it was my fault you were there in the first place. I'm sorry, Cara. I'm very, very sorry."
    It was hard to hold on to all of her anger when he looked so full of remorse, so solemn. Cara relaxed in his arms a little, realizing that if he hadn't turned her into a vampire, she would be dead. Something she didn't really like the sound of. Maybe vampire wasn't such a bad deal given the alternative. She would just have to readjust her expectations for her life. But she wanted to go home, be alone, and think.
    "You can't go home," he said. "You have to stay with me until I think it's safe for you to leave." He smiled. "And in the meantime, maybe we can explore that Egyptian slave fantasy of yours."
    "What?" Cara scrambled to get out of his arms, her cheeks burning. "I don't know what you're talking about!" The bastard was reading her thoughts. Just plucking them right out of her head.
    "Yes, I am," he said, with no sign of an apology.
    "That's incredibly rude!" Cara managed to get her feet on the ground, but her waist was still trapped in Seamus's grip.
    He shrugged. "It's a vampire talent. One I'm good at."
    "Well, stop it!" She wiggled in his arms, jerking backward against his grip. All she managed to
do
was bounce right back into his chest. Her cheek hit his pectoral muscle and her lips tasted the cotton of his T-shirt.
    Desperate to get away from him, she bent her knees and dropped down to slip out of his arms, but he just grabbed her shoulders. He had the strength of