and funny. And she did a mean quadrille." Mina stared at him. She imagined him in a crowded ballroom, twirlingthe Jane Austen around in his arms, talking and laughing.

Suddenly, she felt envious, and she wasn't sure if it was because he'd met and talked to Jane, or that Jane had gotten to see him in his Regency finery, got to dance with him and enjoy his appreciation. She looked away from him and studied her skirt again. Had he done more with Jane than dance and talk? Even with the propriety of the time and the differences in their ages, would Jane have been capable of saying no to him? Had she thought she'd met the embodiment of her Mr. Darcy? No, no, her Mr. Wickham-lovely and flirtatious but also dangerous.

"So tell me about you. You're just a baby by our standards."

She frowned. She supposed she was, although she often felt ancient.

"Have you always lived in New York?"

She nodded. "Yes, for the majority of my-life. My father was the founder of Weiss Steel."

Sebastian's golden eyes widened. "Wow-one of the Gilded Age's industrial moguls."

She nodded. The Gilded Age. She always found that rather amusing. Gilded cage maybe. Of course,

she should have stayed in her cage, shouldn't she? There were much worse cages than gilded ones. Far, far worse.

"You must have hobnobbed with the rich and famous of your time then."

She shrugged. "No one as interesting as Ms. Austen."

"So how is it that a woman who had to be heir to one of the largest fortunes in the United States is living in a tiny apartment on the East End? Surely you were able to do something to ensure you got some of that money?"

Mina fiddled with her skirt. She didn't want to talk about her family-or why she now lived on a modest sum that she'd inherited when she'd turned twenty-one and managed to maintain through investments. Well, modest when compared to the billions her father's company had earned.

"I'm sorry," he said as soon as he realized she didn't plan to do anything but intently trace the pattern of her skirt. "Maybe we should get back to why we're here."

She nodded, still unsure of why they were here. But anything had to be better than talking about the family who'd betrayed her. Sebastian cast a gaze around the room and stopped on an older couple, standing not far from them. He subtly gestured to the couple. "Concentrate on them." Mina did, focusing on their emotions, feeling excitement, happiness, a little nervousness.

"Can you feel them?"

She nodded. A few travelers passed the older couple and their emotions jumbled, making it hard to focus on anything. In a much smaller scale then in Times Square, but still confusing.

"Focus," Sebastian said with his uncanny ability to sense what she was thinking.

"It's getting confusing," she admitted as a large group spurred on by anxiety and tension rushed past.

"Use your focal point. Center on something else until you can get control again."

She pressed her leg tighter to Sebastian, concentrating on the feeling of him next to her. The jumbled

emotions like several necklaces knotted together began to untangle until each emotion was one delicate and fragile chain.

She laughed, a small surprised sound. "It worked."

"Good job," Sebastian said, sounding truly pleased with her. "Now, can you get distinct emotions? Each one separate from the other?"

"Yes," she said, amazed, feeling every emotion crystal clear, strong and distinct from each other. Human emotion always had hit her like too much noise, no sound distinct from another. Even last night, the emotions had been lovely and manageable, but it was like listening to a symphony. Now it was like hearing the violin and then the flute.

"The man is more," she focused, "apprehensive than the woman."

Sebastian gave her a pleased look. "Yeah."

"And the woman is-really excited."

"Yes." Sebastian waited for her to continue.

Mina grinned at him. "How am I doing that?"

Sebastian stared at her, that gorgeous grin as disorienting to him as the emotions had been to Mina. Just

the simple curve of a mouth, but truly the most awe-inspiring thing he could recall ever seeing. "You are learning to control naturally your ability to block emotions, and just focus on one thing at a time. Eventually you will be able to tune them out completely if you want."

Mina looked back to the older couple, then she laughed. One of her small, barely there laughs. "Now that I'm not overwhelmed, I find I don't want to block them."

"It can be fun," he agreed, focusing on her. Her happiness. Her pride.

"It is a bit like eavesdropping though, isn't it?" she said, feeling a twinge of guilt.

Sebastian shrugged. "Maybe a little, but we can't really read minds-despite what Hollywood would lead the masses to believe."

Mina turned to find Sebastian. She wondered about that. He seemed to read her mind, and she wished she could read his right at the moment. She couldn't even read his emotions.

"Why can't I read your emotions?" she asked, realizing she'd never been able to perceive any of his feelings, except via the normal methods. His expression, his tone of voice.

"I can mask mine. You will be able to do that too, as you practice."

She nodded, wanting to ask him why he felt the need to mask his, but then she wasn't sure she wanted the answer.

"Okay. Try him." Sebastian gestured to a man in a gray business suit, carrying a briefcase and with a cell phone at his ear.

Mina concentrated, then she frowned. "Anger. Impatience. Frustration."

Sebastian whistled lowly. "He's like my brother before he met Jane."

She frowned at Sebastian. "Your brother was like that?"

"Add some self-derision and general angst, and that was Rhys. Until Jane. Thank God for the miracles of true love."

Mina studied Sebastian, who still watched the passersby. Again, she was surprised at his easy acceptance of an idea like true love. The vampire who had a different woman for every night of the week. It just seemed strange to her.

She joined him watching the travelers. A young man, maybe in his early twenties, strode toward them-his tall figure covered in worn fatigues, his expression very serious, almost grim. Mina nearly skipped over him, searching for more of the happy travelers. Then a woman, also in her twenties, came running toward him, and suddenly the corridor seemed to explode with vivid, breath-stealing emotion. Elation, relief, and love.

Mina couldn't look away. She watched, rapt, as the man dropped his bag and caught the woman as she launched herself at him. They hugged, laughing. Then they were kissing. Their mouths trying to devour each other.

Mina nearly gasped as desire, intense and urgent, hit her. A living, breathing thing pulsating in the air around them. Their mouths molded together, their hands moving over each other. Desperation in their touch. A desperation that was satisfying just in its existence. The wonderful freedom to want.

She wanted to experience that, Mina realized. Her body ached for that kind of openness, for that lack of restraint. She glanced at Sebastian, expecting him to be watching them too. They were impossible to ignore.

He wasn't. He was watching her. Their eyes met, his eyes darker, the color of ancient amber.

Suddenly the desire swirling around them wasn't the soldier's and his girl's. It was Mina's desire, hot and achy and desperate for Sebastian. Her gaze fell to his lips, and she realized she wanted that kind of passion, that lack of restraint, for herself, not as an eavesdropper.

Chapter 15.

Sebastian saw the dazed yearning in Mina's eyes. He felt her longing pulsing around him. He breathed in shallowly, her desire an intense pulsation on his skin. What would it be like to feel her body pulsating around him? His cock buried deep inside her.

No, he warned himself. Her reaction was being affected by the reunited couple. He had to keep his head, and go slow. His gut told him Mina wasn't ready. After all, not even three days ago she thought he was evil incarnate.

Although she did seem to be over that opinion. She was looking at him with pure desire burning in her dark blue eyes. But beyond that desire, buried deep in her need was a hint of wariness. He could feel it, even if he couldn't see it.

Go slow.

"Sebastian," she murmured, her voice breathy. "I-I want... "

His body reacted instantly to her unsure words. His cock straining against his jeans, his muscles coiling with the need to touch her.

She doesn't even know how to ask you for what she wants, his mind warned him.

"Mina," he tried to keep his voice steady, his thoughts clear and rational, "I don't think-"

Her small hand came out and caressed him, tracing the shape of his jaw, her fingertips brushing over his lips.

A growl escaped him at the deliciousness of her shy exploration. Before his mind could even register what his body intended to do, he caught the hand touching him and pulled her up from the bench. He started down the corridor, not sure what he planned, just knowing that he needed to get Mina to a private place. Even a semiprivate place. Hell, who was he kidding? He was ready to set her on the belt to the X-ray machine and take her right there.

Fortunately, he spotted bathrooms before he was forced to take that option.

He tugged her toward the one marked "Family." He prayed as he turned the handle that it was unoccupied and that it was a single bathroom. He lucked out on both counts. The room was empty with one toilet, a plastic changing table mounted to the wall and a sink with a large counter.

Not the perfect place for seduction, but he'd gladly spend hours seducing her later. Right now, he just had to touch her, taste her.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he pulled Mina against him, walking her backward until she was pinned between him and the wall.

She stiffened, staring up at him with wide eyes. Desire still burned there, but that glimmer of wariness that he'd felt earlier now showed in her eyes. A faint flash, gone as soon as he relaxed his hold and met her gaze.

Calm, he told himself, calm. Don't be so demanding, so impatient. Just touching her, he felt like an overeager schoolboy. Finesse, buddy. Finesse.

Her hands came up to touch his face, her palms pressed to his jaw. Her fingers brushing the hair at his temples. The simple, almost innocent, touch sent fire roaring through him. The hands that rested on the gentle swell of her hips flexed, desperate to press her roughly against the wall and bury himself to the hilt in her pale flesh.

Finesse, he reminded himself.

Then she rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, tentative and a little awkward-and utterly perfect. And all rational thought fled. He was lost in sensation. The velvety softness of her lips, the sweet taste.

The hands touching his face, moving over the shape of his jawline as if she was trying to memorize his features.

He groaned, deepening the kiss. She opened for him, her lush lips parting to allow him to brush the texture of her mouth. The smoothness of the inside of her lips like raw silk. The sharp contrast of her tongue like roughened suede. The hardness of her teeth.

She whimpered, the small sound desperate.

He groaned in response, the hands on her hips moving up her sides, feeling the delicateness of her body, the narrowing of her waist, the rise and fall of her ribs, the weighted softness of the underside of her breasts.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest at the slight contact, his knuckles brushing the tempting fullness.

Damn, it was insane how much he wanted this woman.

Even as he told himself again to go slowly, he pinned her fully to the wall, trapping her with his body, feeling the softness of her curves crushed against him. Her breasts against his chest. His erection hard against the gentle swell of her belly.

She whimpered again, wriggling against him. Her fingers tightened on his face, and he tilted his head, kissing her as if he intended to devour her whole.

She squirmed, the movement rubbing his erection. His cock throbbed, a granite intensity in his pants.

Her fingers gripped his cheek, her fingertips curling into the vulnerable skin underneath his jaw. Even that pressure seemed to spur on his need. He slid a hand back down her side, finding the bottom of her shirt and slipping his fingers underneath. The skin of her waist and her stomach was as smooth as he imagined, cool and downy. His hand moved farther upward toward her breasts.

Another whimper escaped her, a slight vibration against his lips, and she moved her head back. He followed her, capturing her lips fully again, nipping her bottom lip. And still his hand moved upward.

She gasped as his hand cupped her breast through the cotton of her bra. Her nipple prodded his palm, taut and eager. He wanted to taste, feeling it rigid against his tongue. He released her mouth and moved to kiss the corner of her lips, her jaw, the spot just below her earlobe.

She stiffened. Her reaction registered in the back of his mind, but he didn't understand it. His lips pressed to her neck, his fingers gently squeezing her nipple. His only thought to kiss her breasts. He nipped the soft skin of her neck, imagining how smooth her breasts would be.

"No!" she cried, jerking from him, the hands on his face shoving so hard his head snapped back with dazing force.

Before he could recover from the sudden reaction, she'd darted away, across to the other side of the small bathroom.

He blinked, trying to focus. The jerk of his head hadn't been enough to really hurt him, but it had been disorienting. The whole thing was disorienting. One minute he was feeling tremendous need, the next he was receiving a shove that would have probably snapped a mortal's neck.

What the hell had just happened? He blinked again, and then he realized that the room was filled with fear, the air saturated with the emotion. Mina was terrified. Had his own desire been so strong that he'd missed that?