“No, you're not." He sounds very confident. "Ava, you've found out the worst about me and not run a mile. Well, you did, but you came back." He kisses my forehead. "Do you honestly think I'm bothered about my age?”

“You're a vampire." I laughed."Half," he came back, as if there was a huge difference. "My father wasn't a vampire. He was a Lamarliere. I'm not some three-hundred-year-old pervert who kisses teenage girls, okay? I'm the same age as you. Born just like you.”

“Before I can respond, Nash continues. “Or was I there, too?” He brushes his lips over mine. “Did you think of my lips when he kissed you?” Light as a feather, he runs his hand down the outside of my thigh and back up again, squeezing my hip. “Did you wish it was me touching you? Like I did the night I came to your room?”I start to lean back and speak, but his lips take mine, quickly coaxing them apart. Sensation drowns out thought as I feel him breathe into my mouth. “Do you still want me? Because if you do, I’m all yours.”

“No, I mean I can't kiss you while you think about your brother."My grip on his shirt loosened. It did sound bad when he phrased it like that.”

“So . . . do you?” He persisted.“Yes,” she said finally with a mystified laugh. “I wrap my head in a towel.”He nodded, satisfied. “I thought so.”“Did you ever think about cutting back on the caffeine?”Miles shook his head. “Never.”

“Adrian suddenly glanced up at me. Our gazes locked, and I felt like he could read my mind. How often did he think about that kiss? And if he really was crazy about me, did he imagine more than just kissing? Did he fantasize about me? What kinds of things did he think about? His lips on my neck? His hand on my leg? And was that leg bare . . . ?”