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something from a Victorian stag film. Not that I’ve ever seen one, but I’ve heard of them, and I have a fairly decent imagination. I mean, it must be decent…and then some. Look at what I’m imagining here. Oh my. I mean, oh frickin’
my
.”
    Her words ended with a garbled sound. Dominick didn’t ask why. He’d leaned across her to set the candelabra on the headboard, using both hands so nothing would rattle. The headboard was crafted thick so it could support the width and weight of so much silver and candle wax. It was also high. Golden glow flickered about as it embraced the interior. Dominick didn’t wait to evaluate it. He didn’t dare. His fingers were giving him trouble again, and he needed to unlatch the semi-sheer panels of his canopy to pull them into place, creating an oasis of privacy. She started talking again as he reached the second post at the footboard, stopping him momentarily.
    “You need to say something here, Dominick. I mean, really. I’m not exactly immune to this plan of yours. Damn it. Why does my mouth always have to trip me up?”
    He slipped a glance at her then away. It was the best he could manage.
    “Or at least ask. You’re transparent as all get-out. Anyone can see through this. And it’s not like I’d truly turn you down. What am I saying? Does any woman ever turn you down? Ever?”
    Turn him down? He puzzled that before letting it go. It had been too many centuries since he’d needed a woman. There wasn’t much asking. What a man wanted, he took. Women were then left to fester with hate over it. His mother drummed that into him before he’d even reached puberty.
    “I mean, I admit it. You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. You’ve got the body of a god, the face of a model, and the heat coming off you is enough to melt asphalt. You probably have the package to back all that up. Geez. I should just shut up when I’m ahead. I wouldn’t even mind the ‘I ask the questions’ stuff right now. Trouble is…now that I’m ready, you don’t say a word. Not one. I mean, I’m all for the strong silent type, but you’re taking it to the extreme. And I do mean extreme.”
    She’d interspersed her words with a low tone when she’d mimicked him. He almost smiled, but caught it before exhibiting elongated canines that were sure to startle her.
    “You probably should’ve been warned that when I get nervous, I start talking non-stop, and then I sound like a complete idiot. As if you can’t figure that out for yourself. Shawn probably counted on it. Except…I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know where we just disappeared to, and how. Damn it! I’m not discussing how we got here, because I’m just not. It probably looked very good on the web, though. How did you do that anyway? Did we really just fly? And no. Don’t answer that.”
    One panel had a knot in the tie attaching it to his foot post. Dominick pondered it.
    “Um…I’m really nervous here and that means I’m talking. And you’re not doing anything to help the situation. Nothing. In fact, you’re making it worse. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You already know exactly what you do and in what measure. It’s probably practiced. I get it. You’re not just an actor, you’re an athlete. That explains everything. Women probably swarm all around you. All the time. You don’t have to sweet-talk them. It’s a waste of time. So. What sport are you in? Soccer?”
    He didn’t answer, and she must have told the truth about her verbosity because she just filled in the gap with more words.
    “Fine. Don’t answer. I’ll figure it out anyway. Can’t be soccer. They don’t have your height and bulk. That would slow them down. Swimmer, then? You don’t have to tell me. I’ll nail it sooner or later. I’m really good at this. It’s what I do. I facilitate communication. We need that in today’s web-driven world. That’s what I went to Shawn Elliot for. His money. I needed a guarantor for the bank loan.