“How?” I’d expected him to pull me into his lap, but he sat a comfortable distance from me.

“Let me woo you. Give me a chance to show you how dear you are to me.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. “How about dinner? We can get to know each other better.”

“I remember the last dinner date we had. I’m not interested in another postmortem.”

“No bodies, I promise,” he assured me with a smile. “For a doctor, you’re awfully squeamish.”

“It’s not about being squeamish. It’s about having an ounce of humanity left.” Every moment I spent with him faded my anger, like a photograph exposed to sunlight. I tried to find reasons to stay mad at him, but it was difficult when I was this close to him. “Wouldn’t that make Dahlia jealous?”

“I don’t think she’s the only one who’s jealous.” He lifted his hand and cupped my chin, turning my face to his. “Dahlia is a momentary distraction. I’ll have you forever.”

Forever. For the first time since I’d made the bargain for Nathan’s life, I realized the ramifications of my promise. How long would I live? Cyrus had managed to stay alive for more than six hundred years. I’d fought the fiend lurking inside me for only a night, and I’d barely been able to stand it.

Perhaps my fall was inevitable.

Gently, Cyrus pressed his cold mouth to mine. I didn’t resist. But not because I didn’t have the willpower or because the blood tie was manipulating my response. I kissed him back because I wanted to prove to him, and myself, that he made me feel nothing. That I was still in control.

It didn’t quite work out that way. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him pull me closer. I sensed his surprise, but when he drew back he smiled as though he’d won a great battle. “Now, that wasn’t so terrible.”

It wasn’t. He leaned in for another when I heard the forgotten guard clear his throat. Annoyance danced across my sire’s face, but he quickly covered it with a smile as he stood and straightened his shirt. “Roger, what would you say to another match?”

“Robert, sir. I would be honored.” The guard tossed him his foil.

Cyrus caught it and gracefully took up a ready stance. “Dinner, in my chambers, 5:00 a.m.,” he instructed me. “Please be on time.” With that, he and the guard parried and thrusted their way out of the room.

I closed my eyes. It would have been all too easy to blame my submission on the blood tie, but I couldn’t lie to myself. There was a magnetism about him that had nothing to do with his being a vampire. Despite the horrible way he’d treated me this morning, for a moment he’d made me believe he cared for me as something more than a possession.

It was the most dangerous tactic he’d employed in this battle so far.