There were mornings he’d cursed the sun. Now, though, he felt blessed because it meant another day with Phoebe—another chance to taste her passion. He’d lost count of the times they’d made love somewhere in the middle of the night. Every time he had turned to her, she had been willing, loving, and so accepting of him. For the first time in over two centuries he felt complete in bed with a woman. She knew him, and he could let her see everything. He was so bloody sick of hiding his true self. He wanted to wake her again, but she was finally sleeping. He knew she was exhausted from the dark circles beneath her green eyes. "If you keep staring at me like that, I am never going to get any sleep." Her voice was filled with sleepy amusement, and he couldn’t help but smile. "Sorry, love, but I've wanted you in my bed since the moment I met you." She opened her eyes. "Don't try to bam me." "’Tis true. What do you think that moment was in my office? Hell, I was ready to ravish you on my desk in front of my cousins." She studied him for a second.
