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      Perhaps the seat wasn’t empty, but vacant. Vaihan wanted to tell her the pain wouldn’t last forever. However, even that stage of grief brought new questions and doubts.

      “Meg-g...” Peter frowned.

      “Oh dear, I didn’t mean to.” Meg hid her face in Peter’s shoulder. “I didn’t think before I spoke.”

      Evidently not. Neither made any attempt to go after her. Weren’t they worried for her safety? “Allow me.” This was his chance.

      Vaihan set down his drink before Peter could interject, and followed after her. He pushed the handle and the door opened. Rows of cars stretched before him. The Potomac lapped at the shore to his left, past the grassy area. The night sky provided a starry canopy.

      She paced between a minivan and an SUV. The moment Peter had pointed her out, he had suppressed the urge to walk over to her. What had gotten into him? The possibility that he’d grown attached to the sad woman in the photo Barton had provided him was real. Leera was attractive in a sultry way. Human males noticed her.

      “Leera.” He breathed out her name.

      She darted a look at him, eyes shimmering with tears. Wind tossed her curls in all directions. What a horrid feeling indeed, to be trapped among the living when all you wanted to be was dead. Once, he too had longed for the cycle to end, but not anymore. Not in a long time.

      “Don’t come over here. My mascara has made a mess of my face.” She bent toward the side mirror of the silver SUV, her plump bottom pushed out.

      “It’s going to take a lot more than smudged makeup to do that.” He cocked his head to admire the seam between her thighs. “You’re gorgeous.”

      The corner of her mouth twitched upward. “You are some kind of smooth talker.” She lifted upright then spun toward him.

      Admittedly, he stood too close but he itched to touch her again.

      When she attempted to step back, he scooped his arm behind her, resting his fingers against the bare skin of her open-backed gown.

      A breath hitched at her lips. As her heart rate accelerated, her eyes widened with fear.

      “Not so fast.” He steadied her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

      She wrapped her hands around the upper part of her body, creating a barrier. Goose bumps covered her exposed arms.

      He unfastened the buttons of his jacket, slipped off the garment and then rested it on her shoulders.

      “You don’t have to.” Her gazed traveled from his neck to where two buttons were undone on his dress shirt.

      Did she like what she saw? For now, he’d content himself with not finding disgust in her eyes. As her dark gaze rose, it met his, and her body relaxed. A run of black makeup was smeared beneath her eyes. He pressed his thumb to her skin, wiping away tears and mascara.

      She reached for his hand, then pressed his flesh to hers. “You’re so hot.”

      “I’ll have you know, I’m not just good looks.” He let his hand rest in the small of her back.

      “I meant your skin.”

      “Of course you did. I’m undead. My appearance is usually a cause for fear.” Most of his kind paid for human female companionship. He’d never needed to. Zombies had their own underground scene. Lavish nightclubs, where humans offered themselves up blindfolded, tied up and bound to the wall or ceiling in exchange for a taste of poison. These places provided a safe environment where the undead could feast on the living in a number of ways.

      Not his cup of tea.

      “Hmm.” She angled her head. “Given the lines of your brow, nose and lips with the structure of your jaw, I’d say you’re easy on the eyes.”

      In mere moments of knowing him, she’d been able to see him as more than his scary exterior.

      “Undead of my persuasion have a body temperature that is about six degrees hotter than humans.” With his index finger, he tucked a rogue curl behind her ear.

      “Guess that’s why I’m not chilly anymore.” She met his stare.

      “Here I thought the change was your attraction to me.” He smiled.

      She pressed her lips together. A sweet peach scent rose from her flesh as she warmed from his touch. The pigment of her skin indicated she ate healthy food and exercised regularly. The meat of her thighs was probably tender and succulent, but likely didn’t compare to the sweet taste of the juices between them.

      His taste buds tingled with anticipation. “Let me take you home?”

      She glanced around his shoulder to the grand building. “I don’t want to worry Peter and Meg.”

      “I’ll email him on my BlackBerry.” Her next protest was sure to be about him missing this evening’s music. So, he’d better put that option to rest. “As far I’m concerned, I’ve seen the show twice and will again, so you aren’t depriving me.” But if she turned him down, she would be.

      “Thank you. I appreciate the ride.” She slipped her arms into the sleeves of his coat.

      “My car is in the parking station. This way.” He gestured back inside then pulled out his BlackBerry and thumbed a message to Peter. Please enjoy your evening.

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