“‘Dying’ being the operative word. If you’d wanted me here in the first place, you would have invited me. Instead you were drinking from Cricket, and I can imagine what else you were doing, although the thought of you and her …”

He stood as close to me as he could without touching and said in a low voice, “I am not doing this for my pleasure alone, Milagro, although I’m not going to deny that, yes, I like drinking fresh, warm blood.”

“That’s not all Cricket was giving you.”

“She’s a novice putting on a show for her husband’s pleasure. For me, it was a garnish on a cocktail.”

“Emphasis on the first syllable.”

“If you want to know if I had sex with Cricket, then ask me.”

If I asked and he said yes, I wouldn’t be able to endure it. If he said no, I wouldn’t believe him. “I don’t want to know. I don’t care what you do, or who you do.”

Ian stared at me with his languid, hooded eyes and said, “You’re very conflicted about who you are, what we are, as you’ve always been. But what is amusing in a girl becomes tiresome in a woman. Grow up.”

“So says a man who spends every waking hour in pursuit of pleasure.”

“Remind me again, Milagro, what it is that you do to contribute to society, besides your decorative value, which is considerable.”

His criticism burned like salt in a wound. “I don’t do enough, and I don’t think I ever will if I keep seeing you. I compromise myself every time I’m with you, Ian.” I stopped speaking because he looked as if he was going to hit me and I realized that I wanted to brawl with him. I wanted an excuse to strike him and bite him and tear his flesh.

Ian and I stared at each other for long moments and then I saw him relax fractionally.

“My voluptuous beauty,” he said as he put his fingertips to my jaw and ran them along my throat, sliding underneath the neckline of my dress, touching the lace trim of the slip against my breast, making me tremble with desire and rage.

For a moment I thought he would at last tell me that he loved me, but he said quietly, “Stay and destroy the furniture with me.”

His hands on Cricket, his mouth on her. I shook my head.

He put his face beside mine and I felt his breath on my ear as he said, “I would never do anything to hurt you, my own girl.”

I jerked back, away from him. “Not intentionally, Ian, but you do hurt me.” Before I started crying, before I put my arms around him, before I gave in to him again, I turned away and left the house, Rosemary at my feet.