A buzz of low-grade arousal tingled his nipples and cock. Valerie must be here. He rolled over and opened his eyes. There she was, standing in his doorway. She had changed her clothes during the night. Faded blue jeans clung to her gently curved hips. A gray sleeveless T-shirt concealed her breasts, but it hugged her lean frame like jasmine on the fence between two lovers. Her black hair shone like a raven’s chest. She wore no makeup, no shoes, no jewelry. She looked like a virginal eighteen-year-old Italian girl about to buy her papa a cappuccino. Until he looked into those dreamless hazel eyes. Lance was no fool. He knew that she had not changed her mind about killing Radu. At best, she was humoring him until she got within staking distance of the other vampire. Best to keep her busy, then. “Sunrise?” It couldn’t be. The light against the wall was too bright, too high for a late-fall dawn. “Been and gone. It’s noon.” The woman leaned her shoulder against the plaster wall and tucked her fingers in the front pocket of her jeans.
