Lover Eternal

'With a crew of five guys, I can have a roof over your head in forty-eight hours. Provided I can work them into the ground and the supplies come in on time.'

'I'm going to hold you to two days, then.'

'I'll start getting what we need from Home Depot and Lowe's this morning. I'll split the supply orders between the two. And we're going to need a small bulldozer, one of those Toro Dingos with the interchangeable bucket and hoe setup. I know where we can rent one.'

'Good. This is all good.'

O leaned back to stretch his arms and idly parted the drapes. U's house was an anonymous split-level deep in soccer-mom territory. This was the part of Caldwell with streets named Elmwood and Spruce Knoll and Pine Notch, where kids rode their bikes on the sidewalks and dinner was on the table at six every night.

All the happy-happy, joy-joy made O's skin crawl. He wanted to torch the houses. Put salt on the lawns. Chop the trees down. Level the place until it couldn't resurface. The impulse went so deep it surprised him. He had no problem with destruction of property, but he was a killer, not a vandal. He couldn't figure out why he gave a shit.

'I want to use your truck,' U was saying. 'I'm going to rent a trailer to hitch on. Between the two, I'll be able to take delivery on the boards and roofing supplies in batches. No reason for the Home Depot folks to know where we are.'

'And the stuff for the storage units?'

'I know exactly what you're looking for and where to find it.'

An electronic beeping sounded.

'What the hell's that?' O asked.

'Reminder for the nine-A.M. check-in.' U took out a BlackBerry, his blunt fingers flying over the little keyboard. 'You want me to e-mail your status for you?'

'Yeah.' O focused on U. The lesser had been in the society for 175 years. He was pale as paper. Calm and sharp as a tack. Not as aggressive as some, but steady.

'You're an asset, U.'

U cocked a smile and looked up from the BlackBerry. 'I know. And I like to be used. Speaking of which, who are you going to give me for a crew?'

'We're going to use both prime squadrons.'

'You're taking all of us off-line for two nights?'

'And days. We'll sleep in shifts at the site.'

'Fine.' U looked back down at the thing in his hand, fingering a little wheel on the right side of it. 'Oh… shit. Mr. X is not going to like this.'

O narrowed his eyes. 'Oh, yeah?'

'It's a blast e-mail to the Beta squadrons. I'm still on the list, I guess.'

'And?'

'A bunch of Betas were hunting last night and ran into one of the Brotherhood in the park. Of the five of them, three are unaccounted for. Get this, the warrior was with a human female.'

'Sometimes they have sex with them.'

'Yeah. Lucky bastards.'

Mary stood over the stove thinking of the way Rhage had just looked at her. She couldn't figure out why offering to cook him breakfast was such a big deal, but he'd acted as if she'd given him a tremendous gift.

She flipped the omelet over and headed for the refrigerator. Taking out a plastic container of cut fruit, she spooned all there was into a bowl. It didn't look like enough, so she grabbed a banana and sliced it on top.

As she put the knife down, she touched her lips. There had been nothing sexual about the kiss he'd given her behind the couch; it had been all about gratitude. And the mouth-on-mouth action in the park had been deeper, but the distance on his side was the same. The passion had been one-sided. Hers.

Did vampires even sleep with humans? Maybe that was why he held back, instead of it being some kind of power play.

Except what about the hostess at TGI Friday's? He'd definitely sized that woman up, and not because he'd wanted to buy her a dress. So clearly his kind had no problem being with another species. What he had no interest in was being with her.

Friends. Just friends.

When the omelet was finished and the toast buttered, she rolled a fork up in a napkin, tucked the twist under her elbow, and took the plate and the bowl into the living room. She quickly shut the door behind her and turned to the couch.

Whoa.

Rhage had taken his shirt off and was leaning back against the wall, inspecting his burns. In the glow of candlelight, she got a serious look at his heavy shoulders, his powerful arms, his chest. His stomach. The skin over all that muscle he was carrying was golden, hairless.

Trying to keep it together, she put what she was carrying on the floor next to him and sat down a few feet over. To stop herself from staring at his body, she glanced at his face. He was looking down at the food, not moving, not speaking.

'I wasn't sure what you liked,' she said.

His eyes flipped up to hers and he shifted so he was facing her. The frontal view was even more spectacular than the profile. His shoulders were broad enough to fill the space between the couch and the wall. And the star- shaped scar over his left pectoral was sexy as hell, like some kind of brand on his skin.

After a good beat or two of him just staring at her, she reached for the plate. 'I'll get you something else —'

His hand shot out and gripped her wrist. He stroked her skin with his thumb. 'I love it.'

'You haven't tasted the—'

'You made it. That's enough.' He picked the fork out of the napkin, the muscles and tendons in his forearm working. 'Mary?'

'Hm?'

'I would feed you now.' As he spoke, his stomach let out a howl.

'That's okay. I'll get something for myself… Ah, why are you frowning like that?'

He rubbed his eyebrows, as if ironing out his expression. 'Sorry. You couldn't know.'

'Know what?'

'Where I come from, when a male offers to feed a female from his hand, it is a way of showing respect. Respect and… affection.'

'But you're hungry.'

He brought the plate a little closer and tore off a corner of the toast. Then he cut a perfect square out of the omelet and placed it on top.

'Mary, eat from my hand. Take from me.'

He leaned forward, extending his long arm. His teal eyes were hypnotic, calling her, pulling her forward, opening her mouth. As she put her lips around the food she had cooked for him, he growled in approval. And after she swallowed, he came toward her again, another piece of toast suspended between his fingertips.

'Shouldn't you have something?' she said.

'Not until you are full.'

'What if I eat it all?'

'Nothing would please me more than to know you are well fed.'

Friends, she told herself. Just friends.

'Mary, eat for me.' His insistence had her opening her mouth again. His eyes stayed on her lips after she'd closed them.

Jesus. This didn't feel like friends.

As she chewed, Rhage picked through the bowl of fruit with his fingertip. He finally chose a slice of cantaloupe and held it out to her. She took the piece whole, a little juice escaping down the side of her mouth. She reached up with the back of her hand, but he stopped her, lifting the napkin, brushing it over her skin.