When she felt his canines gently, very gently rake across her skin, she shuddered deeply, a soft cry full of need rushing past her lips. She'd wanted...him so badly, for so long that even that was exquisite torture. Micheal leaned over her, inhaling the scent that was uniquely hers. All silver and gold, moonlight and spring rain with a hint of jasmine. A scent he'd recognize anywhere, even in a city of several hundred thousand. He fought the urge to drink from her; it’s not what he was here. And oh, come on Mr. Daughton,’young people’? You you’re no senior citizen.’ He grinned at her and produced on of those fantastic, full-bodied laughs of his. ‘I am 30 years old…don’t you think that’s terribly old young lady?’ he asked her, his eyes holding the grin. Suddenly all Claire could think about was that he was only nine years her senior. ‘That’s not hardly old at all…now, old Professor Jenkins was old. He had one foot in the grave, God bless him. You look like you’ve got plenty of. More

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