She was so surprised she let him put his hands on her shoulders, let him draw her close. He smiled at her, and even in the poorly lit alley, she could see the light gleaming on his teeth. His very long canines. His fangs, to be perfectly blunt. He had fangs, and it wasn’t even close to the full moon.

“What the hell are you?” She put a hand to his chest to keep him from pulling her closer. His heart beat once. Then nothing.

He blinked at her. “What? Usually the lady in question is halfway to fainting by now. To answer your question, I’m the son of a farmer. That’s all.”

“My ass,” she said rudely. “I came back to give you a hand—”

“How sweet.”

“—but you’re fine, and I’m hungry.”

“What a coincidence,” he murmured. He tapped a sharp canine with his tongue. Beneath her palm, his heart beat again. “My, you’re exceedingly beautiful. I suppose your beaux tell you that all the time.”

“Beaux? Who the hell talks like that? And you’re full of shit,” she informed him. Beautiful? Shyeah. She wasn’t petite, and she wasn’t tall—just somewhere in the middle. Average height, average weight, average hair color—not quite blond and not quite brown—average nose, mouth, and chin. She could see her average eyes reflected in his sunglasses. “And you’d better let go before I hit you so hard, you’ll spend the rest of the night throwing up your teeth.”

He blinked again and then smiled. “Forgive the obvious question, but aren’t you a little nervous? It’s dark…and you’re quite alone with me. Why, I might do anything to you.” He licked his lower lip thoughtfully. “Anything at all.”

“This is really, really boring, fuck-o,” she informed him. “Leggo.”

“I decline.”

She brought her foot down on his and felt his toes squish through the dress shoe. Then she knocked him away from her with a right cross. This time, when he went down, he stayed down.

Twenty minutes later, she was happily slurping the first of a dozen oysters on ice.

Chapter 2

He knew he was lurking like a villain in a bad melodrama, but he couldn’t help it. He had to catch her when she came out of the restaurant. So he was reduced to watching her through the restaurant window from across the street.

Richard rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. It didn’t hurt anymore, but if he’d been mortal, it likely would have shattered from the force of the woman’s punch. She hit like a Teamster. And swore like one, too.