“You have no idea how deep the level of my depravity is right now.” He chuckled. “Are you subtly telling me you’re the wolf in sheep’s clothing?” “There’s no subtle about it. I’m flat out telling you.” His eyes roamed over me hungrily, and I knew he was being serious. For whatever reason, I wasn’t scared. I felt safe with him.”

“Whoa, this isn’t the Training Center, you know,” I tell him. “There’s a certain level of clothing etiquette in this house, and you’re currently violating it.”He reaches for his jacket. “I believe you’re the one who tore my clothes off in the first place, and now you’re complaining?” “Trust me, there was no tearing involved. You’ll have to get that fantasy fulfilled somewhere else.”

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” I asked, eyeing him standing carefully outside my door. “Is this the part where you tell me you’re a vampire?” He chuckled. “No, I promise the paleness is only because I’m British.”

“He runs his finger tips along my cheek, caressing my face. “Hush. I’m right here.” He looks at me with deep anguish in his eyes. Like there’s so much he wants to tell me but feels it’s too late now. I want to stroke his face and tell him that it will be okay. That everything will be all right. And I wish so badly that it would be.”

“When I first met him I didn't want to look into his eyes because I knew I would be able to tell how he thought about me and that scared me”

“Angel, I have no idea how you can stand this stench,” he said. “Derrel’s been doing this for long enough that I think he doesn’t have any smell receptors left, but you . . . ?” He grimaced as he snapped pictures of the skull and the injury while I held the body in position for him. “You are one tough chick.” Then his eyes crinkled, and even though he had the mask on, I could tell he was grinning at me. “Or maybe you’re seriously sick and twisted, in which case you are so in the right line of work.”I laughed. “Gotta be the second one,” I said. “I’m not tough!”