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“So. Any luck tonight?” she prompted. Serge sounded like he was clearing a boulder from his lungs. “My lord,” she amended.

“I have not tried to reach out to them yet, no. I have been distracted.” He smiled seduction down at Cassidy bundled in her blankets. “I would like to keep being distracted.”

“Do you?” she said, using the same words and tone he had used with Samantha. His smile grew dazzling. Moving as fluidly as a cat, he snuggled into the blankets with her.

“Well. Okay then.” Samantha sounded uncertain. “Guess three’s a crowd.”

“It is,” Dominique agreed, nuzzling closer to Cassidy.

“All right. Let us know if you need anything.” She turned, and Serge harrumphed again. “My lord,” she tossed over her shoulder with an agitated huff.

Cassidy put the cup aside, its contents now radiating warmth in her belly. She kept her voice low even though with Serge’s supernatural ears aboard, privacy was an illusion. “Promise me you’ll never make me call you that.”

“It is his choice.”

“You’re not exactly discouraging it.”

He considered. “It feels right coming from a blood-drinker, but you… The only thing I want to hear you call me is by my name. Or lover,” he amended with a suggestively cocked brow.

The shiver rippling through her had nothing to do with the cool air. She reached to caress his face. He captured her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm.

“Je t’aime, ma reine,” he whispered. “I love you.” Desire darkened his gaze, rousing his vampire nature, and her breath caught, as it always did, at the golden glow flaring in the back of his eyes. She thought of the surreal luminescence as a beacon of life and passion. He claimed it was the part of her soul that had become an intrinsic part of his being, his humanity.

Dominique’s mouth struggled to subdue a smile, the dimple in his left cheek quavering with effort.

“Your queen, am I? Pretty words.” She sniffed. “Are you willing to back them up?”

The smile almost broke free. “You are a difficult woman to please.”

“And you love that about me, non?”

His eyes danced with merriment. His obvious delight with whatever he was keeping from her almost made up for him keeping it from her in the first place. He’d nursed this secret with care, even letting their precious link fade away so she couldn’t discover it in his mind. It was a good secret then. Nevertheless, Cassidy had about reached her limit of putting up with it.

“An impossible woman to surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Maybe I can change your mind about that.”

“All you have to do is taste my blood.” Then nothing would surprise her unless it surprised them both.

“Or—” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and wiggled out a small, velvet cube. “I could give you this.”

She knew a moment’s resentment. Dominique’s most disquieting new talent was influencing the minds of others with his thoughts alone, making them see—or not see—whatever he wished. He wielded this skill with an increasing casualness that reminded her far too much of his sire. While their link was strong, however, he could not muddle her mind, not on purpose nor by accident. But with their mental bond non-existent, he had muddled her into not seeing that suspicious bulge in his pocket. The bulge which was the box he opened and held out to her. The contents glittered in the moonlight.

It took her a moment to switch mental gears. Then the surprise hit her over the head. Her jaw dropped.

The ring glinting in its satin pillow was a work of art. Ribbons of silver and diamonds swirled around an oval central stone. Dark-blue embers winked in its depths. A sapphire. She could only look a dumbfounded question at him.

He tucked his chin in a little, uncertain. “Do you like this surprise?”

All the air rushed out of her, incredulous. “Like it? Are you kidding me? It’s gorgeous.” She took the box, admiring the ring, while her thoughts whirled. Theirs was not a relationship requiring gifts. After all, such tokens could never be more than superficial symbols of what they truly were to each other. Why would he spring this on her now?

At last, his smile burst free, a fizzing manifestation of pleasure. “The color matches your eyes. Like the Caribbean Sea at noon. That was the first spell you ever cast over me.” When he extracted the ring from the box, she held out her left hand, allowing him to slip it over the finger that once hosted Jackson’s pink diamond brick. Unlike the Striker family heirloom, this ring appeared to be made for her. It wrapped around her finger like a frothing wave.

“But it’s silver. How can you touch it?”

“Platinum,” he corrected.