LITMIR.BIZ

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And a computer junkie. So, what do you like?”

      “My Mustang.” They were standing beside it now, and he patted the roof.

      “That’s it? You don’t like anything but your car?”

      His gaze moved over her, long and slow. “I can think of one or two other things,” he said with a wicked grin.

      Cara felt her cheeks grow hot under his sensual gaze. She cleared her throat. “Like what?” she asked breathlessly.

      “Like hair the color of spun gold, and eyes the color of a peaceful mountain lake, and a smile that’s brighter than the sun.”

      “I had no idea you were a poet.”

      “I’m not.”

      He opened the door for her, then walked around to the other side and slid behind the wheel.

      “Do you want to go home?” he asked.

      “Not really, why?”

      “I thought we could go for a drive.”

      “I’d like that.”

      He started the car and the engine came to life with a low growl. Once he got out of town, he found a long straightaway and goosed it up.

      It was like flying, Cara thought, one hand clutching the edge of her seat.

      “Do you want me to slow down?” he asked.

      “No, I love it!”

      “Hang on!”

      It was exhilarating, flying through the dark night. She knew it was an incredibly stupid thing to do. A flat tire, a rut in the road, a skid, anything could be fatal at this speed, but it felt wonderful and a little bit wicked.

      Vince muttered an oath when he heard the siren. A glance in the rearview mirror showed flashing red lights coming up fast behind him.

      Had he been alone, he might have tried to outrun the law, but not when Cara was with him. He had already put her life in danger by driving like some reckless teenager.

      He pulled off the road, rolled down the window, and waited.

      A cop approached him a moment later. “Can I see your driver’s license, sir?”

      Vince had it out and ready.

      The cop looked it over, then shined his flashlight in Vince’s face. “Do you know how fast you were going back there?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      The cop tucked his flashlight under his arm and flipped open his ticket book. “This is going to cost you big bucks.”

      “Officer, you really don’t want to give me a ticket.”

      The cop looked at him. “Is that right?”

      “That’s right.” Vince gazed deep into the cop’s eyes. “A warning will do just as well this time, don’t you think?”

      “Yes,” the cop said, nodding. “A warning will do just as well this time.” He closed his ticket book. “Have a nice evening, folks.”

      “Thank you, officer.”

      Cara stared at Vince, her eyes wide. “How did you do that?”

      “I don’t know. Just my winning personality, I guess.”

      She laughed. “You are so lucky. I’ll bet that ticket would have cost you at least four hundred dollars.”

      “At least.”

      After pulling onto the road again, he drove a mile or two and then turned off on a one-lane dirt road flanked by shrubs and tall trees.

      Cara glanced around, a little shiver of unease snaking down her spine. Was she going to be one of those girls who wound up dead in a ditch? “What are we doing here?”

      “There’s a pretty little pond down the road a ways. Not afraid of the dark, are you?”

      “I don’t know.” She could hear the news flash now. Girl’s body found in the woods. Film at eleven. She glanced over her shoulder. Where was Di Giorgio when she needed him?

      Vince parked the car a few minutes later. He got out, then opened her door for her. “Come on,” he said, offering her his hand. “You’ll like it.”

      He led her down a narrow path that gradually grew wider and then she saw it, a small pond surrounded by luminous white sand. The light of the moon cast silver shadows on the face of the water. Night-blooming flowers and tall, lacy ferns added a fairy-like touch.

      “It’s lovely,” she murmured, her fears forgotten in the beauty that surrounded them.

      “Yeah.”

      “How did you ever find it?”

      “Just happened upon it one night. I’ve been waiting for someone to share it with.”

      Taking off his duster, he spread it on the ground for her to sit on, then sat on the grass beside her.

      “It’s so quiet here,” Cara said. “So peaceful. It’s like we’re the only two people in the whole world.”

      “I’d like that.” He doubted if she would, he thought with morbid humor, since she would be his only source of food.

      “Vince, wouldn’t you like to kiss me?”

      “Is that a trick question?”

      “Well, wouldn’t you?”

      “Is that an invitation?”

      “If you want it to be.”

      Scooting closer, he drew her into his arms. He held her for a moment, one hand stroking the silk of her hair before he lowered his head and claimed her lips with his. She tasted of butter and salt, popcorn and lemonade—and life. It flowed through her veins, thick and rich and red, whetting his appetite, arousing his desire. He deepened the kiss, easing her down to the ground so that they were lying side by side. He draped his arm over her waist, holding her close, basking in her nearness. The heat of her body warmed his own, and he held her closer.

      She moaned softly, her body pressing more intimately against his.

      “Careful,” he warned, and kissed her again. Her lips were incredibly soft and sweet.

      She gasped when his tongue found her own, whether from passion or surprise, he didn’t know, though he had a feeling no one had ever kissed her so deeply before. The fact that she had never been with another man tempted him beyond reason and yet it was the one thing that protected her. He had done a lot of vile things in the last year, but thus far, he hadn’t defiled a virgin.

      Cara whimpered softly. She was drowning, she thought, drowning in a sea of pleasure unlike anything she had ever known. Vince was kissing her, just kissing her, and yet she felt the heat of his kisses clear down to her toes. She was on fire and only he could put out the flame. She writhed against him, her hands clutching his back, kneading his shoulders. She wriggled underneath him, groaned at the welcome weight of his body on hers. Cara had little experience with boys, and less with men. In high school, she had been a nerd. She had never had a real boyfriend. The only kisses she had ever received were from playing kissing games at parties, but none of those kisses had been in the same universe as this one.

      She slid her hands under his shirt, her fingers exploring his broad back, the indentation of his spine, the shape of his shoulder blades. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to touch him and taste him. She was about to suggest he take off his shirt when he sat up.

      “What’s wrong?” she asked.

      “Someone’s here.”

      Cara glanced around, but she couldn’t see anything in the dark. “How do you know?”

      “I can feel it.” He sniffed the air. “It’s your

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