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with loss of blood. Although she had lived many lifetimes, she was hardly an expert on flirting. Serious relationships with mortals were strictly banned. The times she had mated were strictly perfunctory and almost scientific. She had decided long ago that such sporting, which was how she referred to it, was a waste of her time and energy. The experiences did nothing except compromise her body, mind, and even her personal security.
    As quickly as it was there, the flirting was gone from Knight’s eyes, and replaced with something else. An intense hunger.
    An intense need.
    For her.
    This look wasn’t daring her to kiss him. In this transitory gaze, he wanted desperately to kiss her.
    Not a look of lust, which she was familiar with. Mortal men very rarely held back their lust for her, which was why she often chose to wear the long robes. Her body was perfectly honed for combat and was apparently very desirable to most men.
    No, Knight’s desire went deeper. It was an emotion that gripped him completely and she had the sensation that she had been involved in a love affair with this man. A love affair of which she had no memory. It was a disconcerting feeling.
    But now, the hunger was gone. The longing in his eyes disappeared, replaced by his impish grin, which he did often and easily. She liked his grin.
    But the desire had been there. She had seen it. And she wasn’t about to forget it.
     
    * * *
     
    Being in such close proximity to her was driving him nuts.
    Never in his wildest expectations did he ever truly believe he would meet his dream woman. Now, here she was leaning over him, intimately doctoring his wounds. It was surreal. It was more than surreal.
    It was unimaginable.
    It was all he could do not reach out and pull her down on top of him. She probably would skewer him like a shish kabob with some hidden implement. He forced himself to look away, to focus on something else.
    He thought of the images of her he had painted. The black hair with the streak of white.
    Now, she was standing next to him. She was real.
    Not a dream.
    He was losing his mind. That was the only explanation. The Fallen? Immortals? The real Garden of Eden? The Chosen One?
    He needed to be medicated.
    Okay, he told himself, you’re supposed to be thinking of something else. Anything but her. His heart continued hammering in his chest. He was reacting to her nearness in other ways. Ways that reminded him of a hormone-crazed teenager.
    He tried his damnedest to think of...anything else.
    She reached out and gently touched his chin. He was suddenly conscious that he needed a shave. He looked up at her and was shocked by what he saw. Shocked and thrilled. She wanted him. He could see it in her eyes. He had seen the look before in other women, but coming from her was much more fulfilling, gratifying, and exciting.
     
    * * *
     
    She was surprised by her sudden need to taste his full lips. “Evan Knight,” she said, reaching out and touching his chin, “may I kiss you?”
    “I thought you’d never ask.”
    She cupped his face gently in her hands and leaned down, hovering slightly over his lips. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly open. She pressed her lips against his.
    So soft and warm. She cradled his head and then pressed her lips much harder against his. Never had a mortal inspired such a hunger within her.
    Then again, he was the Chosen One.
    Wasn’t he?
     
    * * *
     
    It had been a long night.
    He had been exhausted after his lecture alone. Thrown on top of that was a fight with a wild hellion named Jessima IL Eve, a battle with a legion of undead, and then escaping the police along the beach. He had every right to collapse into sleep and yet, when their lips met, he felt more alive than ever.
    An unexpected energy surged through him. Never had he ever expected to meet his dream woman, let alone kiss her.
    Now, here she was, leaning over him tenderly rubbing his recently healed shoulder. Her lips moved slowly over his, tasting him