Petits S'Mores

Rookery Cove: Petits S’Mores Mardi Ballou All rights reserved. Copyright ©2006 Mardi Ballou No part of this e-book m...

Author: Ballou Mardi

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Rookery Cove: Petits S’Mores Mardi Ballou All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2006 Mardi Ballou

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical

means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior

written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

ISBN (10) 1-59596-457-6

ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-457-1

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Changeling Press LLC

PO Box 1046

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www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Katriena Knights

Cover Artist: SkyeWolf

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Chapter One Clothilde DuBerry sprang awake instantly alert, experiencing a moment of optimism about the coming night before she remembered the exact date. Tonight was the third anniversary of her catastrophic break-up with Dominic Ford, not that she was counting. Realizing that her first conscious thought usually set the tone for the coming hours, she fought the temptation to burrow back under her covers. When would she stop thinking of dates, the world and herself in terms of the man she hadn’t seen -- or stopped thinking about -- in three years? Determined not to start the night on such a negative note, Clothilde stumbled to her kitchen for her wake-up feed. Might as well treat herself to the rare, expensive stuff -- AB negative. She needed the boost. Looking around the gorgeous kitchen custom built to her exacting designs and specifications, Clothilde allowed the comfort of beautiful things to soothe her. Since coming here right after the break-up and linking her Petits S’Mores to the Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs product line, she’d managed to control every aspect of her life -- except the errant thoughts and desires that gave Dominic far too large a part of her life. She finished her drink and went into the magnificent media room. Here she’d treated herself to cutting edge technology for TV, DVD players, CD players, her computer and the supporting machinery -- playthings for her rare leisure time. Funny, Dom had been the one who adored gadgets and always insisted on getting the latest. Now she had an abundance of gadgets, but no Dom. Last week, when she’d been looking for a DVD, she’d come across the tape Dom had made right before… Her hand shook when she held it. Dom had rushed out and bought a vampera and a video vampera as soon as these inventions, which made it possible to record images of vampires on film, came on the market. Despite her

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laughing protests, he’d set up the video vampera and taped them making love. She groaned now in retrospect, remembering how hot they both got, both knowing the camera was running, and later when they watched the video together. A copy of the tape was the last thing he’d given her. Last week, when she’d first laid eyes on the tape since she’d moved here, Clothilde couldn’t bear to watch. But tonight, like the morbid passersby of highway accidents, she had to look. Maybe she’d find something to make the memories less poignant, some imperfection that would help her finally move on. Taking a deep breath, she put the tape in the player and turned it on. There was the bedroom of the tiny house they shared in Montreal, near their lab. Though Clothilde was independently wealthy, Dominic had insisted they live in a place he could afford. Crazy in love, she’d gone along with his macho demands. So there they were, with their cheap furniture, ordinary linens… Dom leered at the camera, his full lips parted to show a glint of fang, his eyes two immense dark pools she’d always felt she could drown in. Then he turned and called to her, his determined chin pointed to where she stood off camera. Flashing a come hither look, he’d thrown off his clothes, eyes riveted on the camera as if daring any force in the universe to challenge him. At the sight of his powerful chest and arms, his wide shoulders and narrow hips, his long, thick erection proudly presented, Clothilde let out an involuntary gasp. She wanted to touch his cock and reached out to the screen, her fingers jamming against its hard surface. Seeing him there, knowing his erection was for her, she bit her lip. Desire coursed through her, and she creamed her panties. “Come here, baby,” he called, his deep voice setting off goose bumps. She laughed dryly. If only she could go to him. A former version of herself appeared on-screen and melted into Dom’s arms. Watching the two of them intimately entwined pierced her heart like an icicle. How could they have gone… “Too many clothes, my lady. I can solve that.”

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He tore her sweater and slacks from her, leaving her in her silk bra and panties, which he admired briefly before tearing them off her as well. Now he scooped her up in his arms and brought her face to his for a kiss. “I have a special surprise for you tonight.” That’s when he’d told her about the video vampera, and how their lovemaking would be recorded for posterity. Despite her passion for privacy, she’d been turned on that night -- and was even more so now. She pressed her legs together and stopped the video. If she was going to watch this tortuous video, she needed help. The plastic variety would have to do. She’d just risen to get her battery-operated buddy when her phone rang. Pushing away her disappointment and turning so she couldn’t see the frozen image of herself entwined intimately with Dom, Clothilde picked up. It was her assistant, Rose Scolari. “We’ve been getting some disturbing reports,” Rose said without preamble. Clothilde forced herself to focus. “What kind of reports?” “You’d better get down here.” Knowing Rose usually could handle whatever came up, Clothilde figured she’d better do just that. With a regretful eye to her video and her vibrator, she streamlined her usual dressing process and left her house.

*** Clothilde found Rose pacing restlessly in her office. “I’m glad you’re here.” The word glad didn’t seem accurate to describe Rose, whose pretty face looked pinched with anxiety. “What’s wrong, Rose?” Not that Clothilde welcomed problems, but having to deal with a business crisis would distract her from her personal concerns. Rose handed her a file of papers. “According to this, a vampire who bought a container of Petits S’Mores died mysteriously.”

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Clothilde scowled. “A mysterious death? That’s tragic, of course, but I don’t see how or why that involves us. There’s nothing in Petits S’Mores that can harm vampires. Even if someone ingested an entire container, no harm would come. Surely the Rookery Cove staff can handle complaints of this nature.” Rose’s face screwed up in a rare show of emotion for her. “Normally I’d agree with you, Clothilde. But there’s more. Whatever’s going on is beyond what the staff can deal with.” “More?” There was no sense asking if Rose was sure because her assistant abhorred wasting time as much as she did. The thought of her product being pulled into the kind of mess Rose alluded to hit Clothilde like a punch to the gut. There had to be some miscommunication or some other way this didn’t relate to her. “We’ve received an anonymous video. Usually, our mail people would just toss something like this in the trash. But in view of the death, we’re being extra vigilant.” Rose handed her the box containing the video. With a weird sense of déjà vu, Clothilde figured this was her night for videos. She prayed the second would prove to be some stupid prank and not, like the first had, turn out to be significant. Assuming her habitual air of confidence, which she wished she actually felt tonight, Clothilde instructed Rose to run the tape. They sat down to watch. A crudely hand-written sign filled the first frame. “Want to see what your Petits S’Mores do to vampires, bitch? Watch this video for the gory details. And, baby, this one’s just the first.” Was this just some sick joke? With the way her night was going, Clothilde feared it wasn’t. Determined to deal with whatever came up, Clothilde braced herself. The next shot showed a bedroom decorated for seduction. Blood red roses so vibrant Clothilde could practically smell their perfume overflowed vases on bureaus and tables. Fat ivory beeswax candles illuminated the space. The bed, obviously a woman’s judging from the silk, satin and lace pillows over the fine white crocheted coverlet, awaited the couple who now entered the scene.

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Both tall, in their middle years, handsome. Blonds of Scandinavian origin, welldressed, beaming with joy. She mentally named the guy Thor and the woman Freya. For a moment, Clothilde felt like a voyeur perv as she watched their passionate embrace. Their bodies alight with the special glow love confers, the two attractive vamps stood entwined before her. The picture was so clear and tight, Clothilde could see the male’s erection buried in the softness of the woman’s belly. Clothilde closed her eyes for a moment and imagined a stiff cock pressed against her. She shook her head to snap herself back to attention. The woman on the screen whispered something to her lover, then withdrew from his embrace. Seeing the male’s admirable package, Clothilde licked her lips. Her imagination substituted Dominic’s cock. Oh, she really couldn’t go there. Maybe it was the effect of her too extended time of horniness on this unfortunate anniversary, but desire flared within her. Suddenly, her center of gravity relocated to her clit, and she squirmed uncomfortably. Her arousal was so complete, her fangs even ached for a post-climax feed. Clothilde forcibly refocused her attention on the male in the video, who watched his lover’s every move as if he planned to memorize each ripple of her muscles. Smiling sexily, with just a hint of fang gleaming in the corner of her mouth, the woman picked up a small highly faceted container. The designer had translated Clothilde’s dream into fine crystal. The jar that held Petits S’Mores -- her creation -- resembled a perfect diamond. Still smiling, the woman held up the jewel-like container for her lover and did a short impromptu dance, holding it between her large, firm breasts. Her nipples peaked flirtatiously. From the grin on his face and the twitch of his dick, her lover was really getting into it with her. Clothilde crossed her legs hard as she watched in fascination and horror. Then Freya got down on her knees and energetically licked and sucked on Thor’s cock. His face shone with his ecstasy. She dipped two fingers into the container and,

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looking puzzled, made a face when she touched the gel as if it burned her. But apparently determined to continue what she’d started, she liberally stroked his huge erection and balls with the Petits S’Mores chocolate-flavored aphrodisiac gel while he thrust his hips back and forth. At the first touch, his eyes flew open as if he’d been injured, but that shock evidently subsided. Then he closed his eyes and appeared to savor the sensations of his lover’s touch. He mumbled something and put his hands on her shoulders, then in her long blonde hair. Looking satisfied that she’d coated him completely, Freya began to tongue his cock like he was an erotic ice cream cone. She proceeded to take him into her mouth. For a moment, he looked blissed out, his hands tangled in her hair, as he moved in her. And then, as Clothilde watched in growing revulsion, the woman violently wrenched away from her lover, made an unearthly noise and began to retch. Her face contorted, her eyes bugged out grotesquely, her hand clawed at her throat as she struggled to breathe. She lurched away from Thor. His face reflecting shock, he stammered out questions as he reached out to help her, but the woman staved him off with raised hands as she stumbled and fell onto the floor. Then, to Clothilde’s dismay, Freya convulsed in several agonizing spasms, shriveled up and expired. The man, his face shuttered with pain and bewilderment, called his lover’s name, then cried out for help. He held Freya in his arms, begging her to return to him. Once he realized there was nothing he could do for her, he raced around the room in a panic, disoriented, screaming. He now gripped his erect cock as if it was causing him pain. Then he did something that had Clothilde screaming out warnings, telling him not to do it. He picked up the crystal jar, dug out some gel with his finger and sniffed it. “Don’t put it in your mouth! Don’t taste it!” Clothilde was yelling at the figure in the video as if he could hear her. In moments, he’d thrown the jar down and was running around frantically in search of something. He turned on an overhead shower and looked like he was trying to drown his cock. But no matter how much water poured down on him, nothing

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seemed to relieve the pain distorting his face. In moments, he collapsed under the stream of water and appeared to be dead. Maniacal laughter obscenely sprang forth. A crudely hand-lettered sign filled the screen: “These deaths brought to you by Petits S’Mores. More to come.” Clothilde held her hand to her throat. For a moment, she could almost feel the pain she’d just witnessed. Some monster had gotten hold of her product and corrupted it, turning it toxic. This murderer threatened a reign of terror. She wouldn’t let that happen. Determined to prevent more deaths and to limit the damage to her product and Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs, she dialed the private page number of Phillip Quinn, their leader. Her hand shook. For three years since her crash and burn split -- both professionally and personally -- from Dominic Ford, Clothilde had felt safe here on Rookery Cove. State of the art facilities, the capability to keep all their recipes and processes top secret, with access to the top professionals in every relevant field, this special place had given her the opportunity both to heal and to flourish. With horror, she realized her sense of security could now be ripped from her with far more devastation than her loss of Dominic.

Chapter Two Phillip Quinn responded immediately to Clothilde’s page. “Manx, Okibi and I will be at your office in half an hour. Clothilde, those two are tops. They’ll nail whoever’s responsible in no time.” While she waited for Phillip and the others, Clothilde instructed Rose to initiate the necessary procedures to recall Petits S’Mores and then keep her posted. Rose rushed off to set things in motion. Bloody hell, Clothilde felt so alone. Ironically, considering Clothilde was the queen of vampire aphrodisiacs, she’d reconciled herself to an uneasy celibacy. She’d figured her business success could compensate for her empty bed and permanent horniness. Almost. Independently wealthy, she’d proved an important point to herself and to others -- okay, the only other who really mattered was Dominic -- when she earned a second fortune. Until she’d viewed the video of the vampires’ hideous deaths, she’d expected fate to continue smiling on her business success. Footsteps. Thank goodness the Rookery Cove forces responded quickly. Phillip, Okibi and Manx arrived along with Manx’s alpha hounds, which accompanied him everywhere. After Manx settled them, loosely speaking -- the dogs appeared in perpetual motion, even when he said they were “at rest” -- he perched on the edge of one of the chairs. Manx, mostly hidden in his huge black cloak with the hood over his face, dwarfed everyone and everything in the office. He was the most intimidating being she’d ever seen. Fortunately, he was on her side in this. “Let’s see that video,” Phillip said as soon as all three of them had sat down and the hounds were settled. Clothilde winced. She’d have given anything not to have to watch the hideous video again.

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“Shit,” Manx muttered, his voice deep and gravelly, as the first victim began her death throes. “Looks like we’re dealing with a major sicko creep.” They ran the video again, after which Okibi and Manx indicated they’d seen enough. Thank goddess. “We need to find out what happened and institute damage control immediately,” Manx barked. “This looks like product tampering, but I have to ask. Clothilde, any possibility the product’s been contaminated in the manufacturing process?” She shook her head. “There’s less than one in a billion chance of that. We monitor the equipment constantly, and there have been no problems.” Manx scowled. “I figured, especially given the maniac taping the deaths and laughing. So we’ll concentrate on it being a case of external contamination.” “I agree.” Clothilde almost wished it were an in-house problem, which would be much easier to solve. “I’ve already had my assistant order a recall of the products.” Manx noted something on his PDA. “Good.” Despite the fact that Okibi and Manx were focused on the case, Clothilde sensed a strong undercurrent that excluded her. When she realized what it was, she wondered why it had taken her so long to identify it. The sexual tension between Manx and Okibi fired the air with pheromones. Okibi, a phoenix, was evidently in heat. At 5’7”, Okibi was almost as tall as Clothilde. She had a slightly East Asian cast to her face, with almond shaped black eyes, a delicate nose and fashion-model worthy high cheekbones. She repeatedly ran her fingers through her short black hair. Clothilde normally would have welcomed the presence of another woman, except the scent of Okibi’s hormones running high niggled at Clothilde and stirred unwelcome sensations. Why don’t the two of you just get a room and go fuck each other senseless? she wanted to ask Manx and Okibi. From the vantage point of her reluctant celibacy, she figured beings who could satisfy their sexual needs and didn’t were idiots. Her envy of these two threatened to obstruct the clarity of vision she needed now.

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Okibi glared at her, her dark eyes piercing. “A recall’s not enough. The product may be in the hands of countless vampires who won’t get the news in time. Do we have any way to track the product?” “We could track the orders placed directly from Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs, but not those sold through distributors,” Phillip pointed out. “It’s not the most effective use of our energy.” Clothilde’s fists clenched tighter. Realizing Phillip was right, she took a deep calming breath. Her excellent relationship with Phillip went back to when he’d invited her to Rookery Cove. Actually, Phillip had tried to recruit both her and Dominic to come. When her association with Dominic soured, Phillip had personally urged her to add Petits S’Mores to the line-up of Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs. Until now, everyone had been more than satisfied. She intended to keep it that way. “We need to get to the bottom of this product tampering, pronto. First move is to locate and neutralize the perp,” Manx said. “Clothilde, you and Phillip can partner for damage control while we pursue the perp. Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs has an excellent reputation for the safety and reliability of our products. Taking fast action will ensure that reputation remains intact.” “That’s why we have you and Okibi, the best in the business, on our detail,” Phillip noted. “Unfortunately,” Manx said, “I have urgent business off-island. As in I have to leave at dawn. Since Okibi is already overextended in her sector, we’re going to have to bring in an outsider for this one. Fortunately, I know the best in the business. Dominic Ford.” The unexpected mention of his name shook her. “But won’t it take too long to complete clearance procedures?” Okibi asked. A brief flicker of hope. Maybe the clearance procedures would make it impossible for them to involve Dominic. “No. We cleared him when we invited him to join us. He’s kept us up to date on his profile since then,” Manx responded.

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Dominic had been in continued contact with the Rookery Cove authorities? Fuck. And now he’d be coming here? Triple fuck. Just a moment before, Clothilde would have sworn the night couldn’t get any worse. It just had. Obviously the humiliating and agonizing deaths and product recall weren’t enough torture. Clothilde felt like her thought processes were bogging down in mud. Think, she challenged herself. For pity’s sake, think. But all her wounded brain circuits could come up with was an image of Dominic Ford, the man she’d sworn would never again be important to her, between her legs. “In addition to his own manufacturing business, Ford has the reputation as the go-to guy for crimes in the vampire community,” Manx said. “And he owes me a favor.” “I agree about Ford’s reputation. And I can work with him if need be,” Okibi said. “Where’s he work out of now?” “Princeton, New Jersey. He could get here tomorrow night. If he really hustles, maybe tonight.” Manx was already punching a number into his cell. Clothilde wanted to protest, but she couldn’t come up with any rational reason why Manx shouldn’t call Dominic. Much as she now despised her former lover, even she knew his detective work was world-class. As was his lovemaking… She saw Phillip studying her. He was the only other being in the room who knew about her life-shattering break-up with Dominic. Phillip could probably intuit what she was going through. Shit. She couldn’t let her private feelings intrude. If turning to Dominic was the only way to save Petits S’Mores, she’d have to deal with it. She’d have to ignore the fact that seeing him would be worse agony than the victims went through as they died. At least their torture ended quickly. When she and Dominic had split up and divided their business interests, Clothilde had sworn on all that was holy to her that she’d never see him again. Now he’d reenter her life like a conquering hero, summoned to fix all that was horribly broken. She could just see the smirk on his face when he heard.

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But her humiliation couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t just her business and the lives of her customers at stake here. Her product couldn’t be responsible for the downfall of Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs. Attitude. Attitude was everything. She’d have to make sure her attitude formed a shield that would keep Dom from getting to her. Right. “You’ll be able to handle being around Ford, won’t you?” Phillip asked her out of the others’ earshot. “Of course,” Clothilde said coolly. All I have to do is mortgage my soul and bid farewell to any shred of dignity. “I appreciate your working with us on this.” Phillip turned to Manx, who’d just closed his cell. “Did you talk to him? Can he come?” “He’ll fly his own plane, so he’ll be here in the middle of the night. I’ll take the boat to the mainland to brief him before I leave.” Bloody fuckin’ hell. Clothilde took a deep shuddering breath.

*** Dominic Ford frowned when he got Manx’s phone call. How ironic. He’d have to repay the favor he owed Manx by bailing Clothilde out of a mess. Hell, he should thank Manx for giving him a chance to get back into his ex-lover’s life. Clothilde. His beautiful Til. As always, at the mere thought of Til, his cock sprang to instant, concrete attention. But then he focused on the realization of how profound the mess was. He never took the death of his fellow creatures lightly. Luckily, he’d organized his business so he could take off at the drop of a hat. He dialed the extension for Lew Harter, his second-in-command. “I need to go over the production schedule with you,” Lew said when Dominic explained the situation. “We’ve had an unprecedented increase in orders, and we need to adjust our work force accordingly.” “How much time do you need?” Dominic’s voice sounded brusque to him. He had to make flight plans and get the necessary clearances. He knew Manx would need

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to depart Halifax early in the morning, before which Dominic would need to be fully briefed. “I can be in your office in ten minutes with the numbers and my preliminary idea about how to step up production.” Normally, the prospect of increased business would have been Dominic’s top priority. Working with the synthetic blood gel he and Clothilde had developed together, Dominic had created GarGuard, a serum to provide vampires with immunity to garlic. Though GarGuard had at first been slow to gain credibility and a market, Dominic had just scored a huge breakthrough. At last he was on the verge of achieving the success that had always eluded him -- at the same time as he rendered a vital service to the vampire community. Lew was beaming when he came into the office brandishing a file bulging with papers. “The numbers never lie. This is what we’ve been waiting for.” Dominic wanted to share Lew’s single-minded satisfaction, but Manx’s summons and the chance to be with Clothilde drew him elsewhere. “Perfect. I’ll leave it all in your capable hands while I’m out of town. I need to fly to Halifax, where I’ll meet my contact for an urgent matter. I trust I can leave the production in your capable hands for a few days?” “Of course. But will I be able to reach you if anything unexpected comes up?” “Of course,” Dominic echoed. “Only see that nothing does. I expect I’ll be tied up for the next few days.” In three strides, he was out the door and on his way to drive his Maserati to the small airport outside Princeton where he stored his plane. He’d have to think his hardon down before he could get behind the wheel.

*** Manx’s cell rang just as they were wrapping up business in Clothilde’s office. He and his caller exchanged some information. When he hung up, Manx said, “Ford is on his way. Now I want to be sure I have all the details for when I brief him. There aren’t a whole lot of substances that kill vampires, so it shouldn’t take the lab long to isolate the

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toxic agent once they get samples of the recalled product. Do you have any idea what the problem might be?” Clothilde winced. “No.” He nodded. “If you think of anything in the next few hours, contact me. I’ll head to the mainland at two a.m., when I’ll rendezvous with Ford. You can tell him anything with complete confidence.” As if. Her three visitors and the hounds left. Clothilde tried to lose herself in paperwork, but she couldn’t concentrate. Dominic was flying up in his private plane. Owning one had been a dream of his -- one of the first things he’d planned to buy when he hit it big. Shit. When would she no longer remember these details? She looked at her watch and realized that, in just a matter of hours, for the first time in three years, they’d be in the same place at the same time. She patted her hair, thought about refreshing her makeup, maybe even changing into a more flattering outfit. Stop! The quicker she got any personal considerations out of her head, the better it would be for all of them. After all, she lived with the looming possibility of another death, another blow to the business that had taken the place of her lost heart and soul. But memories of Dominic had her creaming her panties. What the hell was wrong with her? She knew she shouldn’t let Dominic get to her, shouldn’t let the way her adrenaline pumped and her clit sat up and begged at the prospect of his touch make her act like an idiot. How could she be so horny when her business and countless vampires’ lives were in danger? Despite her rational inner voice urging caution, her pussy demanded immediate attention. Oh hell, if she was this horny when he arrived, he’d smell it on her, just as she’d smelled Okibi’s hormones. He’d smell it as soon as he got near her and know how hot Clothilde still was for him. Then he’d use her weakness, and she’d end up in worse shape than when they broke up. But she couldn’t talk away her need. After locking the door to her office, she sat down at her desk and jammed her hand between her legs.

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Thinking of him, remembering how he’d plunged his huge cock into her their last time together, the sensation of his thick shaft moving between her aching folds, Clothilde pressed now trembling fingers into her hot, wet core. Goddess, she was practically sizzling. The touch of her woefully inadequate hand nearly brought her to tears. Everywhere her fingers and palm touched quivered at the friction, which she varied from strong to intense, but it felt like a mere tease compared to what she longed for. Clothilde threw back her head and closed her eyes, for this brief interval allowing herself to savor the pleasure. She closed the other hand over her breast and circled the rapidly stiffening nipple swathed in expensive black silk lace. She imagined Dominic there with her. He’d love the sexy bra and panties she’d put on earlier. He’d remove those tiny bits of lace from her with his teeth, tonguing her as he uncovered each inch of her flesh. Goddess, she’d have to be strong to resist Dominic, to stop from letting him seduce her. If she relaxed her guard, he’d fuck her mind so completely, she’d need a road map to find her life again. But right now that didn’t matter. She didn’t want to be strong. All she wanted was to feel the delicious ache of having him between her legs. Her pussy vibrated at the sense memory of Dominic’s hands. His hands. His big, strong hands with the trim nails and the calluses that sent electric impulses racing through her with each stroke of his magical massages. Desperate for release, she closed her legs around one hand and fondled her breast with the other. Though she knew everywhere she wanted to be touched, nothing could compare with the erotic pressure of Dominic’s skin on hers. She groaned and pressed herself harder, tighter, faster. Goddess, she wanted so much more, needed so much more… Paltry as what she could give herself was, the pleasure continued to build, and then she knew she was on the verge… Though she usually preferred slow loving and a protracted build-up to a delicious orgasm, this was an emergency. She needed the release, or she’d expire in a puddle of goo in her expensive, ergonomic desk chair. And

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who then would take responsibility for the disaster threatening to destroy all she’d built? Yes, yes, yes. Her pussy gripped her hand as she whimpered out her so necessary orgasm. Tears of relief filled her eyes as her entire body thanked her for the chance to release pent-up tensions. Who’d have ever believed Clothilde DuBerry would be so sex-deprived that she needed to sneak a hand-job at her desk? She could almost laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. After all, she’d been drawn to Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs because she considered erotic pleasure a basic necessity. Physician, heal thyself, right? But ever since her break-up with Dominic… Yeah, she enjoyed playing with her vibrator and knew how to use her plastic buddy to best effect. But, though she valued self-sufficiency, all her fancy toys and techniques fell short of the real thing -- the pleasure she experienced only in Dominic’s arms. Now that she knew he would arrive soon, all her instincts had kicked into high gear. Though her rational self insisted their only contact would be professional, her gut whispered a different message.

*** Dominic nearly sideswiped a car in the next lane as he sped to the airport. The other driver flashed Dominic the finger followed by an evil smirk that disappeared when Dominic returned a full-fanged snarl. The driver hightailed it down the highway, and Dominic enjoyed a momentary satisfaction. But he realized the other driver had not been in the wrong, which pissed him off. Though he’d firmly resolved his meetings with Clothilde would be professional and platonic, at least at first, communication between his head and his gut had been far from direct. Geez, his cock had been pressing against his pants for so long, the sensitive skin of the head felt almost raw. He’d be at the hangar where he housed his plane soon. He’d have to get off before he could take off. Spurred on by his mission and the reality of soon being with Clothilde, Dominic got through pre-flight preparation in record time. He sat in the pilot’s chair and looked

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at the features of his plane. Still so new, it thrilled him. Mine. Just as Clothilde had once been. Though it had been ages since he’d last resorted to the ten-finger squeeze, he quickly verified he hadn’t lost the knack. Intending to take off promptly, he went to straightforward stroking and squeezing of his aching dick. It wouldn’t take him long to come -- not with the image of the beautiful Clothilde in his mind and heart. “This one’s for you, baby,” he whispered in the cool dark interior of his cockpit as his fingers took the measure of his straining dick, and he imagined she was there with him. He’d rather have her lips than his own fingers on him, her teeth grazing his shaft, her breath hot on his skin. He pressed hard as his cock throbbed wildly in his hand. Of course, given the bitterness of their break-up and their total noncommunication in the three years since, his fantasy of their getting back together seemed impossible. Once he’d promised himself he’d reconnect with her as soon as he achieved his dream of sufficient financial success to make owning a plane possible. Then he’d thought he’d fly up and swoop her away. But things had gotten complicated. He palmed his glans and felt the pre-cum beaded up at the opening. With two strong strokes, he spread the pre-cum around the head and down onto the ridged shaft. They’d broken up over a bitter professional disagreement that went to the heart of what they each considered fundamental. Talk about lack of communication. He’d always thought they wanted the same things out of their collaboration. From day one, he’d planned to use the synthetic blood they’d collaborated on to improve the health and welfare of their fellow vampires. He’d have sworn she shared his vision. But once they had the synthetic blood in hand, Til changed direction. All of a sudden she demanded they use their creation to enhance vampiric lifestyles. Back then, they’d had very small quantities of the synthetic blood to work with. Now, when production had become much easier, it would be possible to generate enough synthetic blood to fulfill both their visions.

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He squeezed his balls. Ah hell, Til loved to play with his balls. Of course he enthusiastically encouraged her to play all she wanted. His hand was a distant second choice, but it would have to do. He squeezed himself. Nothing could replace his lover’s pussy, but he soldiered on. During that last bitter fight, when he’d countered her arguments with facts, she’d pulled rank on him. Why did she have to remind him just then that she’d put up the majority of the money to finance their operation? Her wealth had been a constant sore point for him. He’d insisted on their splitting expenses fifty-fifty. At first she’d pointed out how ridiculous it would be to delay the development of synthetic blood because of his pride. But when she threw her wealth in his face during that last fight, he’d realized how right he’d been. Now, of course, his personal wealth exceeded hers. And he’d earned every penny through hard work and intelligent investment. Talk about hard. His cock twitched, reminding him of the important role pleasure had in total life satisfaction. Dominic’s ass moved back and forth across the fine leather of his seat, faster and faster, as his climb to orgasm became more urgent. With his big hands, he was able to rub his aching cock, to squeeze and fondle, preparing himself for the release that had him gasping and panting. Til, who’d dabbled in the culinary arts, had developed an additive that could make synthetic blood gel taste like fine chocolate. As she’d missed chocolate since her transformation, her dream had been to bring this treat to vampires. She’d insisted on devoting their meager supply of synthetic blood accordingly. Dominic felt the orgasm take hold in his groin and begin the journey to the tip of his cock. He grew larger, harder, more demanding, and directed his fingers accordingly. He imagined the taste of chocolate filling his mouth as he ejaculated into his waiting hands and groaned with relief. Right at this moment, he’d willingly agree with her about the importance of sexual fulfillment in a vampire’s emotional life. Though he’d never admit it to Til, he’d bought her product, used it and considered it excellent -- even though his sex partner at the time couldn’t hold a candle to the product’s creator.

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Back when they’d broken up, his dream had been to bring another crucial flavor to his peers -- garlic. He’d envisioned developing a product that would render vampires not only garlic tolerant but able to enjoy the herb. He’d used his portion of the synthetic blood to develop just such a serum. After several false starts, he’d come up with a successful formula. One small needle prick, and a vampire would have more than a century of immunity. So far his company had succeeded beyond all expectations. As the word spread, vampires, who were notorious for never queuing up for anything, began queuing up to get inoculated. Unfortunately, information about his serum, GarGuard, was far from common knowledge. But Dominic could easily foresee the day when every vampire could be protected. They both had their products now, and they’d both succeeded on their own terms. This time, if he could get a second chance with Til, he wouldn’t blow what there was between them. His mind clear and his cock quiescent for the moment, Dominic took off. He expected to land in Halifax in the middle of the night. Between conferring with Manx and taking the boat to Rookery Cove, he figured he’d be by Til’s side before dawn. His randy cock stirred at that image. Hell, he’d better focus on the mission, or he’d never get there.

*** Reports of the recalled Petits S’Mores being turned in worldwide clawed at Clothilde’s heart. Far worse than the lost revenue, the humiliation of failure sickened her. Though she knew it was unwise to concentrate all her resources in one place, she’d dedicated her life to Petits S’Mores. After all, she’d been one hundred percent convinced of the product’s integrity and worth. What could have gone wrong? She went over and over every step of the process, from manufacture to packaging to distribution. Sales of the product had shot through the roof. With such success, the Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs community had practically crowned her businesswoman of the century. But at the rate her product was going

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downhill, they wouldn’t pick her to be the proverbial dogcatcher. Remembering Manx’s hounds, she shivered. Dominic would arrive soon. Though she hated the enforced inaction of having to wait to start fighting back, there was no more she could do until he showed up. Realizing the waiting would make her crazy, Clothilde decided to go over her plant with a fine-tooth comb. Maybe she’d find some clue. Since Phillip Quinn, Okibi and Manx had strong-armed her into suspending operations pending the resolution of the crisis, the plant, which would normally be operating full-tilt at this hour, stood ominously silent. Being hands-on, Clothilde intimately understood every step of the process that transformed a handful of chemicals into Petits S’Mores. As her plant employed both vampires and other beings, three daily shifts kept operations going twenty-four/seven. Even as she rested during the day, her wonderful business hummed on. Clothilde flipped a switch to light the lab. Orderly and neat, all the glassware and equipment gleamed in the appropriate spots. Chemicals filled various containers in the storage bin. Knowing how sloppy scientists could be, Clothilde allowed herself a brief smile that she’d managed to find a tidy bunch. Bringing chocolate to vampires -- surely this was a service at least as important as Dominic’s GarGuard. On the other hand, his product had never killed anyone -- in fact, it saved lives. She winced. If anyone but Dominic had developed GarGuard, being health conscious, she’d have gotten inoculated even though she’d controlled her environment to be completely garlic-free. Though she realized her reasoning might be a tad on the immature side, she refused to get the shot because she figured it would be handing Dominic another victory. Since all was in order in this lab, she went to the mixing room next. Here the second tier of employees actually mixed batches of Petits S’Mores. Was this where the product had become tainted? Her eagle eye even more alert than usual, Clothilde minutely examined every surface, every implement. This room was even more immaculate than the lab. Her sensitive nose detected nothing out of the ordinary. In

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fact, her new source for chocolate had supplied an even richer, more delicious product than she’d first used. She sighed. Obviously, solving her problem wasn’t going to be easy. She turned off the lights in the mixing room and proceeded to packaging, the section of the plant where she felt least in control. The moment she threw on the lights, a shadow zoomed past her. Who could be in the plant now? Reacting far too slowly, Clothilde moved in the direction of the shadow. Nothing. “Who’s there?” she demanded, her voice cold and steady. No response. Rooted to one spot, she methodically surveyed the space around her. No movement. Could she have imagined the shadow? “If there’s anyone here, you are trespassing. I’m calling security right now to inform them there’s an intruder.” She drew out her cell phone and punched in an emergency number. No response from the intruder or the line. Her stomach clenching at her rare powerlessness, Clothilde hit Okibi’s number. “Yeah,” the phoenix answered on the first ring. Clothilde explained the situation. The phoenix unleashed a burst of obscenity, after which she told Clothilde security would be at the plant in moments and would also seal off the island. “What intruder?” the deep voice of her most erotic longings asked. “Dominic?” He stepped out of the shadow near the door and bowed to her. “At my lady’s service.” Could the shadow she’d just alerted Okibi to be Dominic? “When did you get here?” “Just now, in time to hear your phone calls.”

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Clothilde exhaled hard. Though she wanted to collapse in his arms, she wouldn’t permit herself that weakness. He’d be lording it over her enough without her succumbing to him the moment she laid eyes on him. So what if he looked more amazing than ever? Had his eyes always been so mesmerizing, so dark she felt she could drown in them? She wanted to run her hands through his thick black hair, worn just a shade shorter than she’d remembered. As to his full, sensuous lips, his determined chin and his powerful chest -- she’d best look away or she’d be all over him. Had he always been so tall, so strong looking? “I take it you’re not the intruder who ran away when I came in.” “Never been my style, never will be, to run away.” He fastened one of his hypnotic gazes on her. Just then they heard another sound, almost as if someone had knocked over some boxes, and more skittering footsteps. “But it may indeed be the style of our less than friendly intruder.” Looking ready to tackle anything, Dominic stepped toward the noise.

Chapter Three “No evidence of intruders.” Two tiny males of indeterminate origin -- they reminded Dominic of illustrations he’d seen years before depicting creatures called elves -- came from the opposite sides of the structure and met in front of Clothilde and Dominic. “Is this Rookery Cove security?” Dominic asked her. “I’ve never seen either of them before,” she muttered. “We’re usually undercover,” the taller of the two proudly asserted. “But Okibi dispatched us here immediately after you phoned in your complaint.” He looked at his partner. “I’ll call in our report, Piet.” The other elf nodded. “Who, sir, are you?” he asked Dominic. “Dominic Ford.” “And your business here?” Piet appeared to be sizing Dominic up as if planning to take him down. “Ms. DuBerry requested my presence.” No sense telling the elf any more than necessary. “Is that true, Ms. DuBerry? Is this Dominic Ford here at your request?” Til nodded. “Earlier tonight, Manx informed us he had to go off-island. Mr. Ford is experienced in the field and has agreed to help solve my current… problem.” “Jorgen and I are capable of solving any crimes, even those involving vampires.” Piet’s voice was surprisingly deep and loud. “We’re disappointed the security folk thought it necessary to look to outsiders to find out about the tainted products. Ford, don’t forget this is our turf. Don’t hesitate to ask for any help you might need -- and don’t even think about trying to undermine our authority here.” At the conclusion of that speech, the two elves headed off.

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When they were alone together, Dominic looked archly at Til. He wanted to take her in his arms and crush her to him, but he’d waited this long, he could wait until things were right between them before he made his move. “Manx tells me you’ve got the best here on security.” “We do. The best of the best in all departments. Unfortunately, though, security hasn’t been able to prevent the damage to my product and those deaths. Thanks for coming on such short notice, Dominic.” She looked so beautiful. These days, she wore her auburn hair up in a tight bun that highlighted the beauty of her features -- full red lips, emerald eyes, the high cheekbones of a top high-fashion model. Her skin always reminded him of the finest cream, which he longed to lap up. Tonight she wore a gray business suit that did nothing to hide her ample, voluptuous curves. “Your wish is my command,” he whispered hoarsely. “I wish you could make all the bad stuff go away.” Clothilde shook her head. “Right. I sound just like a serious professional when I make wishes like that.” She took Dominic’s hand. “Doesn’t look like we’ll be able to accomplish anything more here tonight. How about I take you back to my place and we can really talk.” He wanted to do a lot more than talk, but that’s where they’d start. “Lead on.” Now that Dom was actually here, by her side, Clothilde could no longer lie to herself, pretend he didn’t have a powerful effect on her. “My home office is fairly close by.” She needed to get some major space between them. “Don’t you have an office here in the plant?” Dominic asked. “I’d like to acquaint myself with this facility.” “I have a small office here, but at this point I think we’ll be more comfortable in my home office. Dawn will arrive fairly soon.” He looked her full in the eyes, and she was sure he could see the desire roiling within her. He’d always said she wore her heart and soul in her eyes. He did a quick visual survey of the packing area, then nodded. “I forgot. At this latitude, dawn comes earlier than it does in my part of the world.”

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She nodded. “We can walk to my place.” “Great. After a plane and a boat, not to mention my car, I’m happy to be on foot.” They walked in silence for a bit. The waning night’s air felt cool and refreshing. “Thank you again for coming. I know it couldn’t have been easy, dropping everything with no notice and hightailing it up here.” “Manx said you didn’t want me involved.” He looked hard at her. Shit. She’d been acting civil. Trust Dom to insist they confront their issues head on. “Yeah, well. My life is complicated enough now without having to deal with stuff.” “Stuff?” He took her in his arms and started to say something else, but apparently changed his mind and captured her lips for a bone-melting kiss. When they both came up for air, he whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes on you. Actually, since before.” “I’ve wanted you to do it,” Clothilde whispered back. In his arms, for just a moment everything felt like it could be right again. With his strong arms supporting her, his erection hard against her belly, she felt like she’d started breathing after three years of holding her breath. “But we can’t. I can’t. Dom, we’ve got to find whoever’s tainting the Petits S’Mores and stop him. That’s hanging over our heads. As for the rest --” She shook her head and started to move away from him, but he caught her and took her hand. “After conferring with Manx, I have some solid ideas. We’ll fix this. But I don’t want to wait to deal with us. If this crime hadn’t happened, I’d have contacted you within the coming month. You see, I promised myself I’d come for you as soon as I got my own plane, and I just did. Manx’s call just pushed things up, but not by much.” “Not for me,” she said as frostily as she could. Why was he throwing all this at her now, bringing up old dreams, stirring her up? He took her in his arms. She wanted to resist him, but she couldn’t hide her body’s response. He knew her too well. “Dom, there’s chemistry between us. Always has been, always will be. Doesn’t mean we have to act on it.”

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“I want to act on it. So do you.” She did, but she wouldn’t. “We’re almost at my place. It’s getting late.” He insisted on holding her hand as they walked the rest of the distance to her house. She unlocked the door to the work wing and invited him in. “Not exactly like the shack we shared when we first started developing Syn-Blood,” Dominic muttered after a quick survey of the room. “Definitely not.” Her memory went back to that simple time when they’d been completely together, focused on their work, making fierce, passionate love every chance they got. Though their love nest had been tiny and Dominic pridefully refused to allow her to use her fortune to furnish the place, she now remembered it as the home of her heart. “Frida Kahlo originals. I’m impressed.” “I love her art.” What was wrong with her? He’d been traveling all night and must be exhausted and starved. “I have some AB, both positive and negative, chilling. Can I get you a drink?” “I won’t say no.” He sat down at her desk and watched her as she took a bottle from the small fridge under her desk. Damn, if her hand didn’t stop shaking, she’d spill the expensive blood all over her desk. “Let me help you with that.” He steadied her hand with his, and electricity sparked through her body with an extra large jolt to her clit. Somehow, though, she managed to complete the complicated process of giving her guest a drink. “To old times and new,” Dominic toasted. Her mind went blank when she tried to think of a witty retort. They clinked glasses and drank. Dom got right to business. “Tell me everything you know about the tainted product.” Good. Right now, she couldn’t have dealt with him bringing up personal issues.

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Clothilde put her glass down on the desk. “There’s not a whole lot more to tell than you already know,” she said. “And it’s getting late. I’ll show you to my guest room so you can settle in before dawn.” “Guest room?” he echoed. The way they’d been together, who’d have believed they’d ever stay in different rooms? Goddess, she felt like a concierge in some hotel. “Til.” “Dom.” In a moment, he was holding her again. She had no conscious recollection of how she ended up entwined around his body, with him cupping her chin and raising her face for the kiss she craved. As his lips plundered hers, she’d have sworn no time had passed since they’d last been together. His mouth on hers felt as natural as the tides of the ocean battering a shore. He laid claim to her with his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his arms and the fierce erection she burned to wrap herself around. “Til. Oh hell, it’s been an eternity. Let me be with you now.” His voice fell harsh on her ears, and every nerve ending in her body went on full alert. “I want you so.” His voice quivered on the last words, and her fate was sealed. He scooped her up in his powerful arms and held her to his chest. Though she’d thought she remembered everything about her lover, being with him now she understood the poverty of her memory. “Come to my room.” “Show me the way, my lady.” In moments, she had him there, in the place where she’d often fantasized him. Of course, in her fantasies, she hadn’t been forced to invite him because of a crisis. But at this moment she’d take him any way she could get him. “Fancy,” he observed, depositing her on the black silk sheets of her round bed. Though she spent her days in her single coffin -- with a double in reserve to share with a lover, should another one ever come along -- she fantasized about making love in the luxury of the custom made round bed.

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A flashback of the horrible video, the doomed lovers, ran through her mind, and she withdrew from him, horrified by the obscenity of people dying in the midst of lovemaking. “Dawn will come soon,” she warned. “The first time’s going to be fast,” he responded a tad sheepishly. She blinked rapidly as she drank him in with her eyes, and she was lost. The first time? Would it be the only time?

*** In a flash, they both had their clothes off. For once, his normally fastidious Til flung her garments aside. He longed to feast his eyes on her beautiful body, but the prospect of a more compelling feast cut short his visual appreciation. She lay on the bed, her legs open in invitation. With a growl, he lowered his head to her nether lips and tasted her musk. Groaning provocatively, she moved her hips to give him full access. Her clit, already swollen with desire when he positioned his lips for that first seductive lick, tasted like paradise. Til’s long fingers ran through his hair, holding him to her exactly where she wanted him. He’d always loved her receptiveness to lovemaking, her readiness to show him exactly what she wanted, how to pleasure her. Her scent filled him with desire and with the impulse to do right by her. In her surrender, he could feel her hurt, her confusion and her vulnerability. His cock, hard from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, now felt near to exploding. Her sweet musk turned him on fiercely, making him ache to be joined with her for the release they’d both waited too long for. “Dom,” Til begged, her voice rough with desire. “I want you in me.” She moved her leg so she pressed against his cock, and the contact had him seeing stars. He felt like a horny teenager who’d just scored a night with the prom queen. He tried to move his cock away from her leg so he’d last longer, but she wouldn’t let him. “You have to come first,” he whispered.

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“We come together,” she insisted. The determined way she pressed her leg against him spoke even louder than her words. After a lick and a promise, he drew his mouth away from her pussy and slid his dick up to the juncture of her legs. For just a moment, he lay on top of Til, the head of his cock poised at her hot, wet opening. After all the lonely dreams, at last he was exactly where he’d hoped to be. For just that moment, he fantasized staying exactly where he was, on the brink of ecstasy, forever. But he couldn’t wait another moment, and he sensed she couldn’t either. With a gasp, he entered her. In moments, her hot sweetness surrounded him and brought him home. But the erotic sensations were too delicious to last for long. They moved together, him arching his hips so his cock slid in and out of her intimate core. He lowered his face to hers, and she scraped her teeth across his lower lip, drawing a thin trickle of blood, which she promptly licked. He could tell that this preliminary taste fired up her appetite. “God, I want you,” he growled as he plunged deep inside her. “I’m here.” His cock, stroked by the subtle movements of her intimate muscles, massaged her tight sheath. Each point of contact brought him to an ecstatic edge, and he held on by his fingertips. “Oh, darling,” Til whimpered. Only when he could feel her lose control, teetering on the brink of her release, did he unclench himself to quickly follow her delectable lead. “I’m coming, Dom.” Her voice seemed to spring from deep inside her, giving rise to sounds and breaths that communicated erotic passion better than any words could. “My lovely one. You’re so beautiful.” Then words also failed him as he gave himself over to the sheer glory of their shared sensation. She held him to her in the throes of her climax, exactly where he wanted to be. Then, as soon as she quivered to her last gasp, he exploded within her. The force of their joining rocked them both. But the final step remained -- their mutual feeding off each other. What Til had initiated when her teeth grazed his lower lip culminated now as she

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bit his neck and took sustenance from him. Intimate as their lovemaking had been until now, the sensation of her teeth and lips drawing him into her sent him into a whole new sphere of pleasure. Eager to taste of her, he sank his fangs into the tender skin of her neck and let himself indulge in the ecstasy of this culmination. As dawn arrived with its reminder of threat, they lay together in complete satisfaction. “Will you share my coffin with me for today?” she asked almost shyly. “It’s wide enough for two. I’ve never before shared this space.” The intimacy of her gesture staggered him. In the long ago days when they’d first gotten together, with his insistence on their splitting expenses equally, they hadn’t been able to afford a plus-size coffin. After a few days of trying to cram both their bodies into a single, they’d bowed to the necessity of separate accommodations. Now that he’d become wealthy on his own, he could feel secure enough to accept her generosity. “I’m honored.” He held her hand as they covered the distance between the bed and the coffin. After their long separation, he allowed himself to savor the joys of this simple contact. Being with her like this, he could almost let himself believe they could start again -- and this time, they knew better than to fall into the traps that had caught them before. Still not quite believing how right it felt to be with her again, he climbed in after her and arranged himself around her. Curled behind her in spoon fashion, he felt they were completely connected as they sank into the oblivion of their day’s rest.

*** Clothilde startled awake. For a moment of disorientation, she had no idea where she was or whose arms held her. When full realization struck, she groaned. What had happened to her resolve the night before? She’d broken every promise to herself. She’d been determined to remain aloof from Dominic. It obviously hadn’t taken much to make her cave. A memory of the ecstasy they’d shared warmed her naked body. Okay, so she’d had the pleasure of the night before. That did not, could not, imply there’d be any more

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of the same. She wrenched herself away from Dominic and out of the coffin. Tonight she’d get back on track. Her only priority now was the quick resolution of whatever threatened Petits S’Mores. She’d cooperate with Dominic only as much as necessary to make that happen. Then she’d send him packing and resume her life on her terms. He continued to sleep, but she knew he’d awaken very soon. Him and his wakeup hard-on. Dominic’s wake-up erections were as reliable as sunrises and sunsets. Shit. Another detail she fervently wished she could forget. Unwelcome desire took root in her groin, and her pussy creamed in anticipation. Just a few more minutes of play, an unwelcome internal voice begged. “No.” She didn’t realize how forcefully she’d said the word until Dominic opened his eyes, lazily smiled and asked what her “no” came in response to. “No more time for sleep,” she insisted. He looked down at his erection, and of course she looked there, too. “What do you say we start the night right?” She tore her eyes away from the glory of his rising tribute and chided herself to behave. “No time for that. We need to get to work right away. Can’t waste tonight the way we did last night.” She bent to pick up the clothes they’d strewn around. Dominic’s smile slowly faded as he seemed to figure out she meant what she was saying. “I wouldn’t call what happened last night a waste of time. More like clearing the decks so we can get to serious work.” “Consider the decks cleared.” She tsked. “Look, Dominic, I can understand why you got the wrong idea after what happened last night. But just because I made one mistake, don’t expect more of the same. Got it?” He sat up and stroked his chin. “Mistake?” He raised a brow, a gesture that always got to her. “What’s going on, Til?” She chose not to respond to that question. “I’m going to shower and dress. There’s a second bath, so you can do the same. I suggest we meet in fifteen minutes. We can talk strategy while we eat.”

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“I don’t agree to this new change, but I can see you’ll take some convincing.” He climbed out of the coffin and stepped toward her. With a wince, she realized his erection hadn’t gone away. Her pussy demanded she put other priorities on a back burner and help herself to what Dom so abundantly offered. She clenched her fists so tightly, her nails painfully dug into her palms -- a small price to pay for resuming control of what went on between them. Eyes averted, Clothilde backed away from him. “You do realize we absolutely can combine business and pleasure,” he continued, though he didn’t try to get any closer to her. “This case reminds me of another I was asked to consult on. I solved that one easily. I’m sure we’ll have a breakthrough soon on this one also.” “Really? So what do you think?” Maybe if they solved the case quickly, Dom would leave Rookery Cove and she could get her life back to normal with minimal disruption. His mouth went into the grim line of smugness, which irritated her. “We can talk after we dress. First I’m going to say a solitary good-bye to my hard-on, though I’m open to other options.” After she’d spent a night with her naked body enfolded with his, she could hardly demand that he assume a more professional attitude now, so she chose to ignore his remark. “Fifteen minutes. I’m sure you’ll find whatever you need in the bath.”

*** Muttering to himself, Dominic opted for a cold shower. Having to work near Til for the next few nights, if she was going to continue pulling the shit she was pulling this morning, he figured he might as well get used to cold showers. Last night had been like old times between them -- better -- before the last monster fight when they swore they’d never see each other again. But tonight… Why had she brought back the iceberg? He’d been an idiot to believe anything real had changed between them. He winced as ice-cold streams of water pelted him. At least the liquid soap felt luxurious. Unfortunately, no soap could ever make up for having to take a cold shower. Well, he’d

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make a point of remembering how much he hated cold showers next time he got stupid enough to read her wrong. The way she was acting this morning, it was like last night’s closeness had been a hallucination. He wasn’t nearly delusional enough to have imagined what happened between them. Well, lesson learned. He wasn’t going to fall into her trap again. His cock, now sadly flaccid, twitched in sympathy before contracting into a tight mass to keep out of the cold. She wanted their relationship to be all business. They’d see about that. She wanted to ignore what had happened between them the night before, but he wouldn’t let her. First, because of the urgency of the situation and because he wanted her to be able to focus fully on their being together, he’d solve the case. Based on what he’d learned already, he saw the grubby fingerprints of Albert Gramler all over the Petits S’Mores disaster. Albert Gramler made him frown worse than the freezing shower. Gramler was one of the few remaining practitioners of a now discredited practice -- vampire hunting. Thank the universe most vampire hunters had either expired, been killed or hung up their stakes. But a few holdouts, like Albert Gramler, refused to adjust. Hell, it would give Dominic enormous satisfaction to finally take Gramler out of commission. As soon as he confirmed that Gramler was indeed their perp, he’d take the necessary steps to relocate him to a place where he’d do no more harm. Maybe Saturn. Teeth chattering but body clean, Dominic hopped out of the shower and dried off. With the towel knotted around his hips, he went to the kitchen and paused for a moment. Til looked amazing, sitting at the glass table where she’d set two placemats and linen napkins. She had a pitcher of blood and two crystal glasses. Though she appeared like a pose for the perfect hostess, the small frown furrowing her brow and her tightly pursed lips told him of her inner turmoil. “What else can you tell me about the case?” he asked as he sat down across from her and helped himself to more of her fine vintage. AB negative, this morning’s

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selection, was rarer than hens’ teeth -- and a lot more delicious. She served it as casually as mortals served morning orange juice. Her frown grew deeper when she looked at him, but he sensed her heartbeat speed up. “Why aren’t you dressed?” He looked down at himself. “You said fifteen minutes, and the schedule seems strict, so I’m prioritizing. In view of this morning’s new ground rules, I needed a long, cold shower. Then I didn’t want to miss breakfast.” She watched him closely, her agitation appearing to increase. “What? Surely my state of undress doesn’t bother you. We spent the day unencumbered by clothes.” He grinned and opened his legs to accommodate his burgeoning erection. She rolled her eyes, then made a massive effort to calm herself. “I told you I want things professional between us. You should be fully dressed for work.” “Fortunately, detective work doesn’t have a dress code.” She crossed her legs tightly, and he could visualize how the folds of her pussy closed around her clit. His dick throbbed. “You said you had some leads. What are they?” She practically spat out her question. Okay. She was choosing to change the subject. For now, he’d let her. He shifted in his seat, and the towel fell open exposing his hard-on to the cool air. She looked down, and, he was sure, got an eyeful. This aroused him even more, and he splayed his legs still wider. “I’m pretty sure I know the who and the why. What I need to find out are the how, the where and the what.” His cock twitched, and he was moments away from taking himself in hand. Let her deal with that. Eyes fixed on his privates, she shook her head. “I knew getting a glass table could be a bad idea,” she muttered mostly to herself. His ears and his dick perked up. He slowly ran his hand in the vicinity of his erection, and she groaned. When she managed to raise her eyes, desire pulsed off her. “I need to taste you.”

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He closed his eyes, for a moment savoring the sweet victory of her coming surrender. “Even after that excellent AB?” “Shut up, Dom.” In a flash, she ducked down and was on her knees, head under the table, her mouth all over his cock. Ahh, fuck, she felt amazing there. He wanted nothing more in the world than to let her suck him off, after which he’d return the favor. Feasting on her delicious pussy, inhaling her sweet scent as he gorged on her nectar, he wanted it all. Then he’d ram his cock into her pussy, followed by taking her up the ass. He wanted to fuck her every way known to man and invent some new positions. And then they’d share the ultimate erotic embrace, where they gave each other the essence of life. But he couldn’t. Shit, he couldn’t. Every instinct and nerve ending screamed with warning. If he let them both go to satisfaction now, she’d enjoy the moment and revert to the same old shit as soon as her pulse returned to normal. And he wasn’t going to go through that shit again. If she didn’t stop this “professional only” nonsense, they’d never solve anything between them. Though it hurt worse than being dragged across gravel and concrete, he put his hands on her head and lifted her away from him. “What --?” she complained when he wouldn’t let her resume sucking him. Her lips and fangs gleamed with her desire, and her eyes glittered with all the frustrations of the long, lonely time they’d been apart. “Why are you stopping me?” He exhaled hard and pushed the chair back to remove his erection from her immediate reach. “Remember how your parents always said ‘this’ll hurt me more than it hurts you’ right before they smacked you? Trust me, stopping you now hurts me more than it hurts you. Actually, it’s just about killing me. Nothing I want more right now than to have your lovely mouth on me.” He shook his head. “But, Til, I’m not going to do this dance. We talk and fix what’s broken between us, or I’m not playing anymore.”

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Her chin came up and her face contorted in a shuttered expression. She licked her lips and he wanted to kiss her. “You’re right. We’re here for professional reasons. Thanks for not letting me lose sight of that.” She backed away from him, sat down and poured herself another drink. Her hand shook. For now, hardball was the name of the game. Talk about hard balls… Still erect, he adjusted his loosened towel, crossed his legs and joined her in the drink. “It just makes me sick to think my product is the means for destroying lives,” she choked out. Yeah, it was easier to talk about the case than about what lay between them. Dominic shook his head. “I’m determined to stop the bastard this time. I should have the last time I caught him red-handed. I made the mistake of turning him over to a group of his peers for punishment. Evidently he conned them into letting him go free to do more damage.” “Why aren’t you telling me who it is?” Til asked. There was no good reason to withhold the information. “It’s a vampire hunter who still has his head stuck in the time before representatives from all the groups signed the Universal Non-Aggression Pact. His name is Albert Gramler, and he’s one of the nastiest of the remaining rogues. I tangled with him in the days before the pact was signed and killed his partner but spared him. His peers were supposed to retrain and rehabilitate him, but I can see that didn’t happen. Intelligence had listed Gramler as no longer a threat. Evidently, that’s wrong.” He shook his head in disgust. When this was all over, he’d look into improving the holes in the intelligence he and other peace operatives relied on. But that would also be for later. He made a mental note to mention it to Manx. “Have you heard of Gramler?” She appeared to consider that question for several moments before replying. “A vampire hunter?” She shivered, and he took a vow to protect her from any such danger ever -- even if that protection had to be long distance and kept secret from her. “Albert Gramler?” “Ring any nasty bells?”

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“I never consciously knew any vampire hunters were still around. Let me think.” After what appeared to be a brief internal dialogue, Til got up. “I need to check something on my computer. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He pondered what his revelation might have unleashed for her. She returned to the table quickly and appeared quite agitated. “Sorry. There’s a new inspector assigned to quality control of Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs at the transport site. His name is similar to Albert Gramler, but it’s Robert Bramler.” “Those names are close. Gramler could be operating under an alias. Do you have a photo of this guy?” Dominic fastened the towel tighter around him when he stood up. They went to Til’s computer, and she typed something on her keyboard. Within moments, a head shot of Gramler came up. “Fuck, that’s him.” “How in the hell did he get hired?” Til asked, half to herself. “Security here is amazing. I’d have expected them to be on top of something like this.” She shivered. “Hell, who cares how he managed to get hired. What matters is stopping him before he does any more damage.” She shook her head. “What makes you think you’ll get him now before he manages to destroy my business -- and me?” “Trust me.” He stroked the side of her face, turning her head so she had to look in his eyes and understand what he was going to communicate. From the depths of my soul, I swear to you that Gramler will never hurt you or anyone else again. No one will ever again hurt you. No matter how long they’d been apart, he knew with complete confidence that their telepathic link still bound them. Not even you, Dominic? He winced at her message but took heart that the bond was still there. She broke their eye contact and pulled away from him.

Chapter Four Work had always been her salvation, and that’s what she counted on now. Immersed in work, she didn’t have to deal with hard questions -- such as why she’d nearly made a fool of herself over Dom again. When he realized who was probably behind the Petits S’Mores debacle, Dom had dressed and left. Frustrated that Dominic had stopped them before and angry with herself for almost making the same mistake again, and also frustrated there was nothing more direct she could do to resolve the case, Clothilde began to plow through the work piling up on her usually clean desk. She’d just finished a fast review of email when her phone rang. Despite her determination to keep Dom at arm’s length, instinct led her to expect his voice. She squeezed her legs together to contain the constant desire he inspired. Sheesh, she was turning to a worse bitch in heat than the pheromone-driven phoenix. At least Okibi had the excuse of nature’s cycles to account for her lust. Vampires didn’t cycle. They just lusted. “DuBerry here,” she answered in her most clipped, professional manner. “Quinn. Clothilde, we have the lab results.” A frisson of anger that the results went to Quinn before her winged through her mind. But bloody hell, she didn’t have the time or energy to waste on the shitload of emotions plaguing her. Might as well cut to the chase. “What did the lab find?” “In the interest of saving time, I’d prefer to discuss this with you and Ford together.” Blast. She’d been hoping to avoid Dom for as long as possible tonight. “I can be at your office in fifteen minutes.” “I assume Ford is with you.” “He’s not. But I can page him.”

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“Do it. Oh, Clothilde, there’s something else. I’ve just received another video with a nasty note about Petits S’Mores. I’ll wait until you and Ford arrive before I review it.” Shit. She’d hoped the horrendous video of Thor and Freya would be the only one of its kind. The prospect of watching the filth in the company of Dom and Phillip turned her stomach. How much more would she have to slog through before they stopped the monster who seemed dedicated to destroying her?

*** Before tackling the pursuit of Albert Gramler, Dominic called his office to check in with Lew Harter. “Production’s moving along ahead of schedule,” the other man assured him. “Great. Anything need my attention?” Harter hesitated. “Something weird. I don’t think it’ll have any significant effect on our sales or the acceptance of our product, but I can’t quite bring myself to ignore it…” It wasn’t like Harter to hold back. “What are you talking about?” “There was an ad in the Vampire Voice. You know, it’s that free weekly you can pick up at the market. I think most people use it to wrap coffee grounds and such.” “I’m familiar with the paper, yes. What ad?” “Some bozo took out a whole page claiming GarGuard is bogus. That numerous vampire authorities claim it does no good -- the only lasting effect of the serum has is the depletion of poor deluded dupes’ wallets.” “What?” Dominic hadn’t seen this coming. “Who paid for the ad?” “I called the paper, and they told me that information is confidential.” “And you let that stop you?” The other man cleared his throat. That’s what Dominic got for working with such a straight arrow. “I’m sure with your creative mind and connections, you’ll be able to find a way around that. Once we know who placed the ad, we can work on why.”

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“Are you worried?” “No. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to ignore the ad. I interpret it as a signal there’s someone out there who wants to hurt vampires. Whoever that might be, I want to know what’s going on.” “I’ll get right on it.” The moment his call ended, his pager went off. Phillip Quinn wanted him and Til to meet at his office with lab results. Good. Once Dominic knew what they were dealing with, he’d have a better idea how to stop Gramler. Quinn was pacing furiously when Dominic arrived, moments ahead of Til. Quinn indicated they should both take seats. “I’ll go over the results with you, but I want to see this video first.” “Must we?” Til looked like she was going to faint. He took her hand, which he expected her to snatch back. To his surprise, she clutched onto him like she was going down for the third time. He hadn’t realized how painful it must have been for her to watch the first video. Just the feel of her hand in his set his heart to pumping double time, and he had to consciously control his breathing. Somehow, he’d not only have to stop Gramler but also convince Til they belonged together. In moments, the large TV monitor lit up and a white card similar, he understood, to the one in the first video, drew their attention. “Vampire scum succumbs thanks to the Bitch DuBerry’s poisonous gel. The Petite Mort that leads to the Grande Mort.” Til gasped when she read the words, and Dominic kissed the palm of her hand. There is a way out. He will not triumph, he assured her telepathically.

*** The sinking feeling in her stomach and the lust rising from her clit were competing to drive her crazy. Why did Dom have to look so amazing tonight? If Phillip Quinn hadn’t been in the room with them, she’d have lain down on the big mahogany desk and spread her legs.

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So much for her determination and her illusions of strength. The combination of worry about her product and having to resist Dom was frying her nerves. As the screen flickered over images that reminded her of the first video, Clothilde dug her fingers into Dom’s arm. She’d prayed there’d never be another video, but her prayers hadn’t saved her. How many more of these monstrosities would she have to watch? This one “starred” three men. Three beautiful men, each with a different color skin. She wanted to shout to them, to warn them not to use her product. If only she could turn back the clock. But the sick feeling in her gut warned her to prepare for the worst. To the rhythm of an exotic drumbeat and the other men’s clapping, each man tantalizingly stripped off his jeans to reveal an impressive erection. Though each man was already erect, they expertly stroked each other, eliciting groans of pleasure as they swayed to the music. The room, actually more of a studio, appeared mostly unfurnished. But from somewhere off video, the white man reached for a diamond container of Petits S’Mores. That cursed diamond. Clothilde wished she could smash the image of what would happen to smithereens. She groaned when she saw the first man react to the pain touching the gel induced but then continue on. All three men ended up with gel on their fingertips, which they transferred to each other’s erogenous zones. The white man knelt before the copper-skinned man, spread the gel on and around his dick, and began to lick the skin of his inner thighs. At the same time, the black man used the gel to lubricate the crease in the copper man’s ass, fingering the opening there. All three men swayed to the rising rhythm of the drumbeat as they enjoyed each other. The black man licked the copper man’s opening, then braced himself by holding onto his hips before entering him from behind. The copper man moaned with pleasure, then gasped when the white man’s mouth fastened on to his cock. For one minute, the men were caught up in their erotic dance, and then it was déjà vu. The white man drew away from the copper one in a repetition of poor Freya’s final agony.

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Startled, the black man also withdrew from the copper man. They tried to help each other, to no avail. In moments, the black man followed the same track as the white one, who now lay immobile. Crying out, the bewildered copper man emulated Thor and raced for the shower. He survived his mates by mere minutes. Maniacal laughter. “Death by Petits S’Mores. Easy as one -- two -- three. This is fun.” Tears filled Clothilde’s eyes. She’d have given anything not to be responsible for the horror she’d just seen. But responsible she was. Now, no matter what it cost her, she’d focus on ending this disaster and then making it up to both the Rookery Cove Aphrodisiac community and her fellow vampires.

*** The three of them watched the video in silence. “The lab found the samples of Petits S’Mores saturated with a colorless, odorless, tasteless form of liquid garlic,” Phillip announced when they’d seen the video a second time. “More immediately lethal upon ingestion, but just as deadly by absorption through the skin.” Garlic. Dominic had recognized the symptoms it induced immediately, but watching made his skin crawl. The victims had died quickly but in enormous agony. Counteracting the lethal effects of garlic on vampires had been his motivator for years. Knowing his product could have prevented the deaths frustrated Dominic. If only he’d gotten GarGuard out sooner, to a wider group… Til looked like she’d been punched in the mid-section. “Garlic?” Her beautiful face contorted as she said the word. “How in bloody hell did garlic contaminate my Petits S’Mores?” Dominic laughed bitterly. “Garlic is Gramler’s weapon of choice. Over the years, he’s become quite expert in deploying it to wreak havoc.” “He’s certainly wreaked havoc on my poor product,” Til mumbled. “And those poor victims.” “Gramler, you say.” Quinn looked puzzled.

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Dominic nodded. “Yes. According to what I was able to find out on-line, Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs hired Albert Gramler to be on the crew that transfers Petits S’Mores and other island products to your boats.” “How?” Quinn frowned. “He’s using the alias Robert Bramler.” Phillip nodded grimly after typing the name into his PDA. “Bramler, Robert. He’s been with us for three weeks. Low-paying job and he came with excellent references. Being that he’s off island, we need to notify the appropriate police. Of course I’ll sack him first and make sure he doesn’t get near any more of our products.” Til actually snorted. “Sacking’s too good for him.” Dominic agreed. “The police won’t be able to do anything without proof. We have to catch him in the act.” “Or we could just help Bramler disappear.” Til’s fangs gleamed in the lamplight. Dominic wanted to do violence to the bastard, but they’d have to play this one by the book. From the look on Phillip Quinn’s face, Dominic understood he wanted the matter resolved with the least possible negative publicity for Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs. As a businessman, Dominic could appreciate that. If only he’d been able to produce enough GarGuard to inoculate every vampire… “Phillip, I need to know everything about Bramler, including his work schedule and where he lives.” “Assuming he didn’t lie about that. I can look up his work schedule.” Phillip quickly hit keys and frowned as his monitor display shifted. “But first. Now that we know garlic is the toxic agent, we can incorporate the information in our recall. Dominic, we can include information about GarGuard with the recall bulletins. In fact, Rookery Cove will offer to subsidize inoculations for any of our Petits S’Mores customers.” “Great idea!” Before Dominic could get too happy about Phillip’s proposal, he caught sight of Til’s face. She looked like a boxer who’d taken one too many punches to the head. Much as he wanted to savor this momentary triumph, he couldn’t do so

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completely because he felt Til’s pain. He’d find a way to make it all up to her. She certainly didn’t need to be around while they formulated the bulletin and started to get it out. “My assistant, Rose Scolari, can help.” Til’s voice sounded dead. “Great. Why don’t you call her and then just take the rest of the night off?” She frowned. “I want to be involved in seeing the bastard brought to justice.” “You will be,” Phillip assured her. “But it really would be better if you skip this part. Leave it to the pros.” Dominic winced, realizing how patronizing Quinn’s words probably sounded to Til. He telepathically told Til he disagreed with Quinn’s attitude and his words. Out loud, he added, “I promise I’ll keep in contact, let you know everything that’s happening about Gramler in excruciating detail as soon as we map it out.” She looked at him, her eyes wide. She was about to say something when she yawned. Ah good, her body was asserting needs. He wanted to kiss her, reassure her, promise her they’d be together later. Once they solved the case, they could seriously talk about their relationship and figure out ways to heal all the wounds. But under Quinn’s watchful eye, Dominic felt constrained. Til called Rose Scolari, who arrived promptly. With matters between him and her very much still unresolved, Til left. Though it couldn’t be helped, Dominic let her go.

*** Every step she took felt ponderous, weighed down as if her shoes were lined with lead. Goddess, she couldn’t remember another time when she’d felt so confused, so befuddled and just plain awful. Her business had turned out to be vulnerable in ways she’d never imagined possible. Who could ever have imagined she’d have to look to GarGuard to help save Petits S’Mores? And then the return of Dom to her life had her questioning all her previously-held truths. The chemistry between them was stronger than ever. She sighed as she walked in the calm, quiet night, such a contrast to her inner turmoil. Three years before, he’d been so damning and dismissive about her decision to use Syn-Blood to create an

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aphrodisiac. She’d shown him, hadn’t she? Here she’d felt so good about her success -and then some vicious rogue vampire hunter brought it all crashing down around her ears. She hated having to admit Dom was right, but his product certainly wasn’t causing vampire deaths. In fact, his product could have prevented the disaster hers was turning into -- and now Rookery Cove was looking to his GarGuard to help bail them out. By the time she got to her place, she felt depressed. What if more vampires expired because of Petits S’Mores? What if, by the time this disaster was over, she and her product had lost all credibility? Though she didn’t need the money she earned, business success was a huge component of her identity. If she lost that, what would she have left? Even if somehow getting back together with Dom became possible, how could she resume any relationship with him as a failure? She felt herself begin to clutch at straws of possible rescue from her situation. At least it seemed Dom and Phillip Quinn had a good handle on who was responsible. Knowing Dominic, he’d have captured Bramler or Gramler by tonight or tomorrow at the latest. She’d be able to resume production and sales of Petits S’Mores. They’d have to come up with some great damage control beyond spreading the information about GarGuard and subsidizing inoculations. Once she got over her personal baggage about GarGuard, she’d be able to devote her energy to damage control. She was good at that. And with the expert advice of her Rookery Cove peers, she’d go on to more success. Clothilde unlocked her front door and let herself in. Her place felt unbearably quiet. In just one night she’d gotten used to having Dom there. Well, she’d have to get unused to it. Unless -Hell, she was used to devoting her nights to her work. What in heck else did she value doing with her time? A flash of memory -- making love with Dom, his head between her legs, his tongue flicking her clit -- not an option. She moaned. She’d take a hot bath. From her dim past, she remembered the pleasure of surrounding herself with the scents of lavender and roses and soaking away her miseries. She used to buy herself a special concoction on shopping trips in Montreal. It

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had been forever since she’d indulged. And she had a brand new vampire romance she hadn’t found time to read. Thank the goddess for escapist novels and the comfort they could bring. Tonight, she’d indulge herself that way. Light some candles, soak in the tub with her book. Her spirits lifted at the prospect. She was running her bath when her cell rang. “How are you doing?” Dom asked. “Fine. Where are you?” “We’re getting ready to take a boat out to Gramler’s residence. I wanted to call you now because things might start moving quickly in a very short time.” “Good luck. Bring me his head on a platter.” Dom laughed as he hung up. Be careful, she added telepathically afterward. No matter what would happen between them in the future, she couldn’t bear it if Dom were hurt -- especially if it happened while he was helping her. Though she knew his tremendous strength, she also realized this Gramler must be pretty powerful, too. After all, he’d evaded punishment and death before the signing of the Non-Aggression pact, when most vampire hunters had very short life spans. Back then, when Dom had captured Gramler, the hunter had managed to convince Dom to spare him and turn him over to his peers for rehab. Shortly after, vampires granted a general amnesty for all hunters when the pact was signed. Though most vampires and hunters had appeared to accept the pact, there’d been a few rare cases of rogue hunters resurfacing. Now it would appear Gramler had just been biding his time until he could do the most damage to the community that had shown him mercy. Determined to follow Dominic’s advice this time and relax, she turned on her radio to play continuous soft classical music, undressed, pinned her hair up, settled into the tub and savored the feel of the fragrant hot water around her. She liked the water practically up to her chin, so it took a huge amount to fill her large sunken tub. Once she got into a bath and had everything just right, she could soak for hours.

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She found the book a wonderful escape. Vampire romances. She sighed. If only romance in real life could go as smoothly as it did in novels. She’d have to make more time in her life to enjoy books. Nothing like a great love story to help her relax… Clothilde startled when she realized she’d reread the same page twice and still didn’t know what happened. When had the bath water cooled to lukewarm? And the lights dimmed? Her head spun as she tried to get her bearings. What was that? An odor, a strange vibration in the air… Something subtle was off. She shivered with unease. It wasn’t like her to feel skittish or nervy, and she wasn’t about to start now. After all, she was a vampire. She could protect herself from virtually any threat. The only person who could really screw her up was herself. The bathroom lights surged to high -- and Clothilde suddenly knew she was no longer alone. “Who’s there?” she called out. Suddenly the air shifted, and an ugly odor overtook the lavender and roses she so much loved. Garlic. Tears sprang to her eyes. No wonder she felt disoriented and weak. She dropped the book to the floor next to the bath and gripped the sides of the tub, meaning to raise herself up. But all her strength seemed to go to shielding her from the nauseating smell of garlic. Who? What? And then she had her answers. She saw the familiar crystal diamond. Her creation, her Petits S’Mores. Then she saw the huge man’s hand holding two containers of the stuff in front of her face. “I’d put your gel on my dick and let you lick it off, but we don’t have enough time.” His words made her gag even more than the smell of the garlic. “Who the hell are you?” She looked up and up at a tall man with the build of a heavyweight boxer. Brown-haired and even-featured, he’d have been almost handsome but for the maniacal gleam in his light blue eyes. “Robert Bramler.”

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“You mean Albert Gramler,” she spat out. Shit. Here she was, trapped in a tub by the lunatic vampire hunter who she knew without a doubt was about to kill her. Though part of her wanted to cry and beg for mercy, her overriding instinct was to fight him off. Normally, there’d be no problem. But he’d incapacitated her with the garlic spray scenting the air. Now he meant to kill her with… With Petits S’Mores. Smirking, he dabbed a finger into one of the containers, scooped out some gel and forced her mouth open. “One container has my special added ingredient, the other doesn’t. You’re so smart about your product, which gel is on my finger -- the one I added to or your own?” Goddess, she didn’t want to find out. She kicked and splashed and bit him, hard, on the hand without the gel. “You stupid fuckin’ bitch,” he snarled. He slapped her so hard, her head hit the wall tiles and she saw stars. Shit. Why had she been so stupid? Now that she was going to die, she knew what had been staring her in the face forever. She loved Dom. She knew he loved her. Why had she let so much time go by away from him? She’d die, and Dom would never know that she understood at last… Now Gramler smeared gel over her clamped shut lips. “Die in pain, vampire bitch.” Involuntary tears flooded her eyes. He kept trying to pry open her lips to put the gel in her mouth, and she resisted him with every shred of strength she could summon, but the garlic spray sapped her energy. Her insides clenched up in anticipation of the agony of garlic poisoning. Suddenly two arms encircled Gramler and pulled him away from her. Relief flooded Clothilde. A reprieve. She had no idea what had saved her, or for how long. “Two for the price of one,” Gramler bellowed. He sprayed the garlic scent right under Dom’s nose, then spread the Petits S’Mores gel from the second container on Dom’s face and onto his lips.

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Clothilde’s heart nearly broke when she realized what was happening. She didn’t want Dom to die. She’d gladly have given up her life first. How she wished she’d been smart enough to protect herself. Any moment now, she’d die in pain… But she wasn’t in pain. Maybe Gramler had used the untouched gel on her. Maybe she’d have another chance to live… “Why, Gramler, I didn’t know you cared.” Before the other man could respond, Dom had knocked him unconscious. “Are you okay?” he asked Clothilde. She rubbed a washcloth across her lips. “A little woozy. He sprayed the room with garlic.” “I didn’t think that would be your scent of choice.” He took a deep breath. She coughed hard, but at least she was alive. “It’s making me sick. But Dom, he was going to spread the tainted Petits S’Mores on me. The stuff he put on me first was obviously untainted, but I didn’t know…” “The sadistic bastard was playing one of his sick games with you. Oh, baby, I don’t know what I’d have done if he’d hurt you.” He lifted her dripping wet from the tub and held her to him. Clothilde nearly collapsed with relief at the warmth of his touch. She was going to have a second chance to do things right. But damn, first she had to get away from the reek of the garlic spray. “I’m soaking you.” Shit. What was wrong with her head? Everything that had just happened, everything she’d just realized -- and all her scrambled brain could come up with was that she was getting him wet? Dom held her close. “Let me get you out of here, away from the garlic and that scum.” Thank the goddess, they’d have the gift of time together. Soon, she’d sort everything out. But first things first. Dom took her into the bedroom and, after making sure she could stand, deposited her on the floor. He raced back to the bath for a towel. “Gramler’s stirring. I want to secure him. Then we’ll talk.” Clothilde dried off and wrapped up in the towel. But she couldn’t stop shivering.

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***

Bloody hell. Dominic couldn’t believe how close he’d come to losing Til. If he’d gotten back any later… Dominic knocked Gramler unconscious again before securing him. He carefully removed all traces of the tainted gel from his face, then he went to reassure Til. “Okibi will be here in just a few minutes to take Gramler into custody. In the meantime, the way I’ve tied him up, he won’t be going anywhere on his own.” Til, still looking dazed and sexy with a towel draped around her, sat down on her bed. “What happened? I thought you had left on the boat to hunt for Gramler. That man…” She shivered and her mouth twisted with distaste. “Long story. I’ll cut it short by saying Quinn had the brains to look at the manifest of the boat that came to Rookery Cove tonight. Gramler used another alias. But when Quinn didn’t recognize the name, he became suspicious. After that, I just followed what my gut told me.” He shook his head. “Til, if he’d hurt you…” Dominic didn’t even want to let his mind go there. “But Dom, why weren’t you susceptible to the garlic?” Til asked. And then he saw when she understood. “It’s the GarGuard,” she whispered. “Yes,” he admitted. “Though we hadn’t tested it in quite these conditions, I felt confident it would protect me.” She put her hand over her eyes and nodded. “I’ve been a real idiot, haven’t I? If I’d gotten GarGuard, he wouldn’t have been a threat. And if those other vamps had been protected…” He stroked her face. “Yeah, we’ve all had chances to use the ‘if’ word. If I hadn’t been such an idiot when we were together before…” “Ah hell, Dom. If we’re going to spread around accusations of idiocy, I need to lay claim to mine. As in, can you ever forgive me for --” His answer was to take her in his arms. “Oh, baby, I don’t need to forgive you. What I do need to do is get you some GarGuard so no garlic-spreading loonies can ever threaten you again.”

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“In the meantime, why don’t you go wash that tainted stuff off you,” she said, “so I can thank you.” He grinned. “It’s done.” Til proceeded to thank Dom with great sincerity.

Mardi Ballou Writing books is a dream come true for Mardi Ballou. Multi-published in erotic and mainstream romance, Mardi lives in Northern California with her hero husband, a knight in shining armor who provides both tech support and expert massage. No, she doesn’t share. Mardi loves to travel, racking up frequent flyer miles to visit her family in England and her native country, New Jersey. She wishes she could live in a structure big enough to house all the books and quilts she covets and have enough time to enjoy them all. She’s still waiting to achieve her second major dream -- winning an Oscar in some yet-to-be-created category she might qualify for. If you know how to make this happen or just want to schmooze, drop in on Mardi at MardiBallou.com.

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