And ages. And looks. The one she faced was a prime example; all brute strength, amazing handsomeness, and demonstrating a pretty extensive vocabulary, too. He still had to be mad. She was Evangeline Harper. Staid. Uptight. Somber. Dispassionate. All business. Critical and Logical. “I’m serious, Dane.” “Do I not appear serious, as well? I must be rustier than I thought.” “How many women are we talking?” “What else did you say? We are having sex? Oh no, my sweet. It will not be sex. That I guarantee. We will be making love...for hours. Or what is left of the night, anyway.” “That many women, huh? Any men?” He rolled his eyes. “There is no amount, Frja. There is just you. Only. Don’t you listen to one thing I say?” “You’re telling me you’ve been celibate? Is that it? And you actually expect me to believe it?” One side of his lip lifted, revealing sharp teeth again. Fangs. That was ridiculous, too. She flicked a glance there and then back to eyes that were sparkling with what looked like moisture atop them.
