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Everything about Jasmeene reminded him of that woman, and yet nothing at all. She moved like her in bed, but there was a loss of innocence, a jadedness that hadn’t been in the woman’s eyes he’d held in his arms as he ushered her into womanhood.
    Whether Jasmeene was his mystery woman or not, there was no denying his explosive attraction to her, his need to claim her. When he’d seen her kiss Kristoff he’d been so consumed by jealousy it had taken every ounce of resolve not to rip the shifter apart with his bare hands. There was only one explanation for his possessiveness towards Jasmeene, his obsession with her. She was his heart mate, but if she was, then she’d also been there all those years ago in a darkened boarding room in the heart of New Orleans.
    Jasmeene had some explaining to do, and many years to answer for. The moment he got her alone, he was determined she would do just that.

Chapter Four

     
     
    Jasmeene rocked and rotated her body to the beat of the song, her gaze focused solely on the man whose eyes hadn’t left her from the moment she’d started her set.
    Les Anders. It was a stroke of luck he’d returned that night. She poured all of her energy into seducing him, ignoring the hard glare from the man who sat behind him.
    Roarke could go fuck himself, especially after what he’d said earlier. She was still fuming about their exchange. Even if he hadn’t pissed her off, she still would have ignored him. She had to convince this guy he had a chance with her, so that he would actually buy her. Roarke had to know she didn’t really want to sleep with this creep. This was her job.
    Her set ended and she picked up the dollar bills from the floor, heading backstage. The moment she entered the shadowed corridor, Jensen cornered her.
    “My friend wants talk to you.”
    “Mr. Romero?”
    “No darlin’. Someone new.” He placed his hand against the small of her back, ushering her down the dark hallway. “Wait for him in room five. He’ll be there soon.”
    He practically shoved her inside, slamming the door behind her. The rooms were pretty much all the same— sparse furniture, a large bed that dominated the entire space.
    She counted her money while she waited, her head lifting when the door creaked open.
    It was him. She tucked her bills into her bra and stood.
    There was something about the way he stared at her in silence, his almost translucent eyes void of any emotion, that made her blood run cold.
    “What’s your name?” He curled a lock of her hair around his pale finger, his cool breath blasting her face.
    “Delilah.”
    “No. Your real name.”
    What was it with men and knowing her name?
    “That is my real name, but you know that already.” She turned when he walked behind her. “After all, you asked Jensen.”
    He stopped, letting her hair slide through his fingers. “The lady is beautiful and smart.” He smiled, and it was so pretty, so effeminate she wondered if he hadn’t been born a woman.
    “Take off your clothes.”
    There wasn’t much to remove. She slipped out of her getup for the evening—leather push up bra, matching thong and black stilettos.
    She fought the urge to shiver when his eyes devoured her, his face glowing with naked lust.
    “Lie down and touch yourself for me.”
    She obeyed his command. Spreading out across the bed, her legs falling apart as she began to stroke her sex with her finger.
    She started to close her eyes but his voice stopped her.
    “Watch me while you touch yourself.”
    She held his gaze, her body flushing with heat almost instantly. She realised what was happening, but there was nothing she could do about it. He had the ability to invoke rapture—all vampires had it, but few could do it without taking blood. His rapture was strong, building her desire with his stare alone.
    She let him cast his spell over her, knowing if she fought back he would know she was a vampire. They didn’t have enough evidence yet to bring him in. He