Dante Rainaldi never asked to be turned into a vampire, but it's the life he's stuck with-unless he can end it. Suicide seems the only way to end his torture, until he meets a woman who is the epitome of everything good and pure.

Wendy Schumacher has a good-though lonely-life. When she's approached by a young, sinfully gorgeous gentleman in a coffee shop, she doubts her judgement because she's made mistakes before. She lets him into her heart, though, but with him comes the terror of a dark world she never believed existed.

He stood, withdrew his wallet, and threw a couple of bills on the table. Then he held out his hand for her. "Allow me to hail you a cab."

She glanced at his hand then back up to his face. Shaking her head, she motioned toward the door. "I just live a few blocks away. I can walk."

"Then let me be a gentleman and show the lady to her door."

She stared at his still extended hand.

"Come. I am harmless, I promise you."

"Said the spider to the fly," she murmured.

"I believe the spider asked the fly to step into her parlor."

She chuckled and looked up at him. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

Just as he wasn't supposed to hear her blood rushing through her veins, her heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. But he did.

"I will not ask to enter your parlor. I am a gentleman. I will walk you to your door and bid you a fond goodnight." No matter how badly he wanted to get his hands on her.

She slipped her small hand into his and stood up. "You run a hard bargain, Mr. Rainaldi. I'd be a fool to pass up an escort home."

"Please," he said, dropping his voice to little more than a whisper and leaning down slightly, "call me Dante."

A shiver passed over her, and he smiled to himself as he breathed in her glorious scent. Aroused woman with the hint of sweet lilac. She'd taste like ambrosia, he was sure.

"Come then," he said, pulling himself back. Just as he laid a hand on the small of her warm back, she grabbed his business card, cinnamon roll, and tin foil-covered plate off the table. The card she stuffed into her purse. Ah, perhaps he still had the charm after all.

He guided her out the door onto the street. A gentle breeze had come up off the bay, and her hair whipped around her and against his jacket. He wished he were naked in order to feel her cool curls against his flesh. She wrapped her arms around herself and huddled against the chill.

"Allow me," he said as he slipped the buttons of his jacket and shrugged out of it. When he laid it around her shoulders, she smiled at him-a genuine smile. Soft and sweet. Not the forced ones of earlier, or those she'd used to cover her unease.

"Thank you. You are a gentleman."

He kept a loose arm around her as they walked up the steep hill toward 3rd. She was small, yet she wasn't frail. Her curves covered a sturdy build he found quite arousing. She was soft and warm, and he knew his jacket would hold her scent for days. He looked forward to it.

His fangs ached, and he drew in a breath to calm his own lust. Sex and feeding...he didn't understand why it would meld now at this particular moment. He wanted her body, not her blood. He wanted to taste her flesh, her arousal, not sink his fangs into her. Besides, he'd just fed. He didn't need human blood again for at least two weeks.

"So...is this what you do with your Friday nights? Rescue lonely women from having to walk home alone?"

He cocked his head and looked down at her, but her own head was bowed. "Are you lonely, Wendy?"

He heard her swallow, and she didn't answer.

"I am sorry. I do not mean to make you uncomfortable. It is just that most women of your age are usually searching for...something."

Her shoulders slumped slightly beneath his arm, and she ducked her head even farther.

Hell, he was going to mess up his well-laid seduction if he didn't keep his mouth shut.

"You mean like a man?" she finally asked. "I don't need a man. I'm perfectly happy without one."

Though her words held conviction, her body language said otherwise. She was lonely, and it hurt him to see her so. He'd bet his store and all that was in it that some man, or perhaps more than one, had hurt her.

"You are a very well-adjusted woman. Self assurance is highly underrated."

She lifted her head, and a small smile curled her sensual, pink lips. "I can take care of myself."

He nodded in agreement. There was a difference between loneliness and needing a man to lean on. She didn't need one, but she'd like one. It was written all over her face for the world to see. "And you have taken care of yourself for a very long time, haven't you?"

"Yes." The word came out on a soft sigh.

He wanted-no, needed-to be the man she could lean on.

"This is my place," she said as she slipped from beneath his arm and turned to face him. She slid his jacket off her shoulders and held it out to him. "Thank you for walking me home."

Her building was a mid-class apartment complex. "I assure you, the pleasure was mine alone."

Standing under the streetlamp as they were, her deep auburn hair seemed spun with strands of gold. Her eyes were the most startling, intriguing spring-like green. Her smile was shy and sweet.

She reached into her purse and withdrew a small ring of keys, and then she looked up at him again, and he saw the question in her eyes. Even if she asked, he'd have to decline the invitation. Not tonight. It was too soon and had been much too long since he held a woman in his arms. When he did have her body, he needed to be in control of his lust, lest he frighten her.

"Well. I guess I should go in."

He nodded but wasn't about to let her go without a taste. "It is late."

She didn't move away, which he took as a small invitation. It was enough.

Gripping his jacket in one hand, he raised the other and tucked a thick lock of downy soft hair behind her ear. Her heartbeat sped, thundering in his ears as if it were his own. The seductive scent of her arousal assailed him, and his fangs tried to extend. He forced his need into submission and leaned down until his cheek softly brushed hers.

"This last hour with you has been the best I've experienced in many years." He turned his head slightly and grazed his lips over her rose petal soft skin. Her flavor was more than he'd expected, and his cock throbbed to fullness. "I look forward to seeing you again." For just the briefest moment, he buried his nose in her hair and breathed her in, imprinting her on his soul. "Goodnight, sweet Wendy."

He pulled back and turned away. If he didn't, he couldn't be held responsible for what he might do to her.

"Goodnight," she whispered, her voice carrying to him on the evening breeze, too soft for human ears to have heard.