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wasn’t
enchiladas, but I only got as far as my seat.
    Maximo dropped
down into the wooden chair across from me, staring with the same intensity he’d
had on the dance floor. Several seconds passed before he softened the
expression into an amiable smile.
    “You could use
a few more dance lessons.” He lifted a tortilla chip from the basket between
us, negligently setting it to his lips for a bite.
    The complaint
went a long way toward easing my thundering pulse.
    “It isn’t
going to help me sell merchandise at the shop therefore there’s no point in
wasting the time,” I said now that we could hear each other. My tone was sober
because I was close to being sober
thanks to that kiss. The guilt that I’d let a murderer kiss me days after he’d
killed his last lover had been like a bucket of ice water over the head.
    Maximo adopted
his indulgent smile. “We all need a little exhilaration in our life to feel
alive. And you were exhilarated back there.” He nodded his head toward the
cantina. “Dancing more often would be good for you, Miss Walsh.”
    I could argue
he was wrong, but he was a vampire. Exhilaration was a physiological state he’d
be able to mark by the lifting of my pulse and temperature. And it would be
lying if I’d said I hadn’t felt just a little more alive with him.
    “I don’t need
you to feel exhilaration,” I said in a stiff but quiet voice.
    “Of course you
don’t.” The tightening of the skin around his eyes didn’t bode well. “But no
one else can offer you dancing with a side of danger quite like I can. I think
you crave a little danger.”
    I swear I saw
the flash of fang as he spoke the words. My heart skipped two beats. Perhaps
he’d heard my unvoiced reaction because he gave me a closemouthed smile that
looked positively evil. And Hera help me, thanks to his twinkling eyes, that
smile was quite possibly the sexiest I’d ever seen.
    Self-preservation
had me giving a reminder. “I want my ring. It’s the only reason I’m here.”
    His lips drew
just a little finer—a tacit warning I ignored.
    “What do I
have to do to get it back?”
    Maximo’s
eyelids drew shut in a slow, irritated motion. He let out a long breath, and
then reopened them, fixing two narrowed eyes on me. “You need to learn the fine
art of negotiation, Miss Walsh.”
    I bit back a
response about not wanting to negotiate with murderers. Instead, I remained
silent while he worked through his irritation. Soon his amiable smile was back.
He waved for our waiter’s attention.
    My heartbeat
quickened. I didn’t want to leave. Well, I did want to leave so I could go home, but I doubted he’d let me off the hook quite
so easily. And remaining at the restaurant was preferable to being alone with
him elsewhere.
    I pulled out
my wallet. Maximo shot me a dismayed look. He dropped several bills on the
table, took my hand—wallet still palmed within—and tugged me up to his chest. My
heart skipped a beat. The corners of his lips curved. He released my arm in
time for me to stumble toward the front door. I managed to recover myself
before we reached the steps outside.
    He said
nothing during the short drive to the shop. I tossed him surreptitious glances
in an effort to gauge what his plan would be now that dinner was over. He’d
gotten his dancing just as he’d wanted. But I hadn’t gotten what I’d wanted.
    Maximo
maneuvered his Escalade into the parking lot on the Sedona side of my shop. He
didn’t get out of the car to open my door, but he did turn off the engine.
Sliding into the corner of his seat, he faced me.
    “I would like
you to spend Independence Day with me,” he said.
    How did that
work? He was a vampire and thus wouldn’t be awake during the day portion of the holiday.
    “I hold an
annual barbecue in Wipuk ,” he said. “There will be
food, dancing, and fireworks. It’s a holiday not to be missed.”
    I pushed my
hand through the door handle, pausing long enough to answer. “I’ll go