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I looked away. How could I admit that in such a short time, he’d already changed me? For years, my world had been black or white – grey wasn’t even a consideration. I should have found forgiveness impossible. But here I was.

“I know there’ll always be part of you in the darkness,” I murmured. “And I know you can’t change what you are. So I’m trying to see past it; to remember we all have darkness in us.” I gave a half-hearted laugh. “You’re what, almost four centuries old? Of course you made more mistakes than most of us. I’m hardly innocent myself.”

I stood up. Why couldn’t I find the words? I pulled him to his feet.

He looked down at me curiously. “And is that enough?”

I sighed. “I think so. For now. Tom still wants me to kill you,” I admitted.

“I cannae blame him,” Nicholas replied.

“But I couldn’t,” I said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. “I see how hard you try. The restraint behind everything you do – I admire it. I’m grateful for it.” My hands found his shoulders, tracing down the tight muscles of his arms until our fingers entwined.

He looked away. “I find myself struggling these nights. My need to keep you safe wars with that restraint, sometimes.”

The chill of his fingers between mine soothed the burn that simmered beneath my skin whenever we were together. I touched the crescent scar at his throat, and his eyes never left my face – half-smiling, half-puzzled.

“I love that you try, Nicholas,” I said, meeting his gazethrough my lashes.

Something fierce blazed in him – recognition, possession, triumph all at once. He knew I was his, and he was mine.

“Years o’ hard work, and here ye are, undoing it all with a few words.” He traced a finger along my jaw. “It’s no exactly fair.”

I smiled. “I never claimed to play fair.”

Pulling his face to mine, our lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle. Months of holding back crashed over us like a wave. His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming me with a hunger that I could barely understand.

Enveloped in his arms, I felt delicate despite my strength. The solid wall of his chest met mine as he gathered me close, his touch chilling me through my clothes. In a motion too swift to track, we were in my bedroom below. My heart skipped a beat as my brain caught up with my body, and his mouth quirked up between kisses. He walked me backwards until my legs hit the bed.

“Are you expectin’ something o’ me, Erin?” he whispered against my throat, his voice like rough velvet. His lips trailed a path downward, brushing sensitive skin as he explored my collarbone. He slid one hand down my back, gripping my hip and pulling me flush to him.

“I’m beginning to,” I managed, breathless.

“Then I should warn ye,” he murmured, a wicked light in his emerald eyes as he laid me back on the bed with surprising gentleness. His weight was deliciously heavy as he pinned me beneath him. “Those talents I mentioned afore? I’ve hadcenturiesto perfect them.” The evidence of his desire pressedinsistently against my thigh, and heat flared low in my belly. I rocked against him instinctively, drawing a low growl from his throat that sent shivers racing across my skin.

“Centuries?” I teased, grinding against him. “Prove it.”

His pupils dilated, a fierce hunger crossing his face. “Oh, I intend to, love.”

We were still for a moment, caught in each other’s gaze. Slowly, he laid a hand over my racing heart, the other tangled in the waves of my hair. I wrapped my legs around his waist, crushing myself against him.

“I knew you were worth waitin’ for.” His eyes raked over me and his hands found the hem of my shirt. “May I?”

I lifted my arms as he pulled it up and over my head. His fingers made quick work of my bra clasp, the lace falling away as his cool hands traced my veins. His soft intake of breath at the sight of my bare skin made me smile.

“It doesn’t seem fair. I’ve barely waited at all.” I slipped my hands under his shirt, brushing away the soft cotton to discover the smooth, hard planes of his chest. He deftly unbuttoned and shrugged off the dark fabric, revealing the honed, lean muscle beneath and an ancient tattoo that curved around his ribs and side – a series of intricate Celtic knots and symbols.

As I traced the lines of ink across the ridges of his muscles, my fingers found other marks – scars that vampirism hadn’t erased. A ragged mark across his stomach that looked like a sword thrust, and a star-shaped scar by his shoulder that might have been an arrow wound. I took my time studying each one, trailing my fingertips across the lines of his muscles, warminghis skin with my touch.

He shuddered beneath my hands, his eyes half-closed as he mirrored my exploration, finding the silvery mark that split my collarbone, where a vamp had nearly torn out my throat four years ago. The puckered circle on my shoulder from a stake that had missed its mark, back when I’d thought wood was an acceptable weapon. Each one was a jagged reminder of hunts gone wrong.

“Battle scars,” he murmured, almost unhappy with understanding. His callused fingers followed a particularly vicious scar beneath my ribs with awe rather than pity. But we’d waited long enough, and his mouth soon found mine again with a renewed hunger.

When I reached for the waistband of his jeans, his fingers found the button of mine instead, his eyes holding my own as he artfully peeled the fitted denim down my legs. I kicked off my boots, and his eyes flickered to the slim blade that tumbled out onto the floor. One side of his mouth curved up into a knowing smile.

“Always prepared, eh?” he purred. “I dinnae think you’ll be needin’ any weapons tonight, love, but I admire a lass who can handle her… steel.”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks as his wide eyes moved reverently over my body, and I thanked the fates I’d worn my nice underwear. His own jeans hung loose and low on his hips, and when I reached for his belt again, he let me tug it free. The soft, ancient denim fell away, and I couldn’t resist a small smile at the sight of his bare feet – somehow, they madehim seem more human.