“You’ve one more chance to answer me, lass. And trust me, you’ll not want to push me that far.”

Gwen heard the change in his voice. It was the most chilling tone she’d ever heard. She meant to placate him, but she got carried away again. “Well, Greylen, you’ve only proved one thing, so your little tirade doesn’t scare me in the least. This is a dream, so pinch me, you big oaf. Better yet—bite me.”

Gwen couldn’t see the look on his face, obviously, but she sensed something had changed. Like all the air in the room had been sucked away and all that was left was this malevolent energy, which unfortunately, she had helped to create. She was about to make a run for it when Greylen pulled her against him with such force, he took her breath away. He kissed her—and took her challenge. He bit her.

“I taste blood. Oh my God, I taste blood,” Gwen yelled, hitting his chest. “Greylen, this isn’t a dream.” For a moment, she was so excited she started jumping around on the bed. That dance that you do when you just can’t help yourself.

“I told you ’tis not. Damn it, Gwendolyn, cease your antics—I just bit you,” he snapped. “I lost control. I’ve never done so before, yet you’re acting as though ’tis a cause for celebration.” He lifted her chin as if inspecting the damage. Her lips, already swollen from earlier kisses, were more so now, and as he gently pulled upon her bottom lip, he obviously saw blood. “Sweet Jesus, forgive me,” he pleaded.

What’s a little love bite? Besides she knew she’d purposely provoked him. And truthfully, he hadn’t hurt her. The man just had to touch her and all thinking went out the door. Which led to another mortifying thought. She was not dreaming. Which meant…she’d consciously behaved like a…like a…what? Cat in heat, woman on the edge, slut? Oh my God, she was a slut. Gwendolyn Reynolds was a bona fide slut. Could you be a slut without having sex? Hmm…oh God, you could.

Greylen grabbed her. “Whatever you’re thinking, cease. Your mind works in the strangest ways.”

“I…I acted shamelessly, Greylen. I’m not like this, I’m really not.” In her desperation to make him believe her, she ran her fingers through the hair on the side of his head. “It’s the drugs, and I…I thought I was dreaming.” She stopped, as if another thought might be more disturbing. “Why did you say those things to me, Greylen?” she asked in a strangled whisper.

“You’ve not forgiven me, Gwen. I can hardly offer an explanation—”

“Big deal, so you bit me.” She shrugged. “You didn’t hurt me, Greylen.” Then she whispered with a grin, “Don’t tell anyone, but I kind of like the way you throw me around.”

“Gwendolyn,” he whispered against her forehead. “If I live to be a thousand, I’ll never be able to repay the liberty you just bestowed upon me. Nor will I ever fathom the way your mind works,” he muttered.