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“Get dressed,” he said. “I’ll shower and meet you downstairs.”

Giddy as a schoolgirl with a new crush, she put on the skirt and sweater, then zipped into the sexy black boots and floated down to the living room to wait for him. When he came down a few minutes later, freshly showered, shaved, and dressed, his brown hair damp and tousled around his face, Claire’s heart did a little flip in her chest. He looked amazing in the charcoal gray trousers and black silk shirt she bought him. So amazing, all she wanted to do was strip him naked and have her wicked way with him all over again.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded and took his outstretched hand. It was a pleasant night outside, crisp but clear as they walked the short distance into Newport’s historic downtown. Much had changed since the last time Claire had been home some twenty years ago. Quaint boutiques, mom-and-pop stores, and greasy-spoon restaurants had been crowded out by hotels and timeshares, retail clothing chains, and swanky fine dining.

But pockets of the old hometown still remained, even down by the wharfs, Claire’s favorite part of Newport. The town docks were a magical place, especially at night. Bobbing gently on the dark, incoming tide was an eclectic mix of millionaire yachts and sailboats tied alongside weathered commercial fishers and the ubiquitous harbor tour boats. Galleries, shops, and restaurants lined the bricked pedestrian alleys that led to the wharfs, everything aglow with soft yellow lights and vibrant with the sounds of laughter and conversation as crowds of late-autumn tourists strolled and perused, just as Claire and Andreas were doing.

Out there, among this vast, anonymous humanity and so very far away from the trauma and violence of the life she’d left behind just a couple nights past, Claire could almost close her eyes and imagine a peaceful future. So much the better with her hand caught gently in Andreas’s strong grasp. With him beside her like this, she could almost pretend that they were still a couple, still in love as they had been before, with nothing but adventure and happiness ahead of them.

Claire tried not to think about Wilhelm Roth. She could no longer think of him as her mate, if he’d ever truly filled that role. She knew he was dangerous—all the more so now that he was aware she’d lain with Andreas. He’d made his displeasure known last night, when he sent her a stab of physical pain through the blood connection she shared with him. His message couldn’t have been more clear if he’d carved it into her flesh. Mate or not, Wilhelm Roth was now her enemy as much as he was Andreas’s.

That troubling thought clung to her as she and Andreas stepped into a gourmet chocolate shop adjacent to the wharf.

“Come here,” he said, leading her to the gleaming glass cases that contained a mouthwatering assortment of confections.

Claire looked at him quizzically, knowing the Breed’s digestive systems could not process human foods except in the most minuscule quantities and generally only to effect the appearance of being human themselves. Which was a terrible pity, she thought, looking at the collection of chocolates that dazzled the eye and tempted the tastebuds.

“Which one would you like to try first?”

She bit her lip, hard-pressed to decide. “The glossy one with the red stripes looks good. Ooh, so does the little square with the flecks of gold on it. And the one with the coconut on top.”

While she was vascillating between her choices, a balding, middle-aged man came out of the back of the store carrying a supply of empty gift boxes. He gave them a polite smile and a nod of greeting as he set down his things behind the counter.

“Another fine Indian summer evening,” he said. “Could I help you folks with something?”

“The lady would like to try some of your chocolates,” Andreas said.

“Of course. Which ones are you interested in, my dear?”

Claire glanced up and met the kindly gaze of the shopkeeper. “May I try the little chocolate square?”

He nodded and reached into the case to retrieve one for her. “An excellent