Quentin gathered her into his arms and lurched to his feet. "Sleep, baby. I've got you now."

She sighed and pressed a kiss to his throat.

Quentin held her close to his heart as he followed the captain toward the waiting van. How would he ever let her go?

Chapter Twelve.

Darcy followed the sound of soft laughter into her kitchen on wobbly legs, rubbing her sore, itchy shoulder. She pushed the door open, and three sets of vampires' eyes swung guiltily toward her.

Suspicion aroused, her gaze darted around the kitchen, but didn't land on anything that would inspire the uncomfortable silence-except an open package of calves' livers.

Quentin shoved something on the counter behind his back and leaned indolently against the Formica.

Darcy narrowed her eyes and reached around him. She pulled out a cold container of her favorite ice cream, Cookies N' Cream. She lifted an eyebrow, but Quentin simply pulled a laden spoon from behind his back and slipped it between his lips.

Emmy snickered. "So, you're up at last? Should you be out of bed?"

Something was up. Darcy frowned at her attempt to change the subject. "What's going on here?"

"We were just discussing the merits of organ meat," Dylan said, then quickly pressed his lips together.

Emmy jammed him in the belly with her elbow and smiled brightly. "And Quentin's odd cravings."

"Emmy!" Quentin's narrowed gaze looked just plain mean.

"I think we'd better leave these two alone, darling." Dylan grabbed Emmy's elbow and herded her out of the kitchen.

"Sweetheart, how are you feeling?" Quentin asked-too quickly.

I'm tired of everyone changing the subject and talking in riddles. Darcy crossed her arms over her chest. "Everyone has been treating me with kid gloves."

"You were injured, love. Everyone's been worried about you. Even Captain Springer and the team make it a point to stop in every day."

"And they talk in whispers when they think I'm sleeping."

"Right. I suppose you've been wondering about that." Quentin straightened away from the counter.

Darcy's breath hitched. This was the first time she'd stood next to him since being shot, and she'd forgotten how tall he was. Even unconsciously, he was able to distract her. "Mmmm-hmm. I'm all better. What haven't you told me?"

"I don't want you to be angry. We felt it was for the best."

Darcy drummed her fingers on her arm.

"We didn't want to impede your recovery."

Impatient for him to get to the point, she blurted, "Out with it."

"Alright," he said, blowing out his breath. "But first, let's go sit. You're looking a little flushed."

She let him lead her into the empty living room and settle her on the sofa, fussing unnecessarily with the pillows until he was satisfied of her comfort. He'd been this way all week-ever since she'd been released from the hospital. Solicitous. Kind. Distant.

"Have you changed your mind?" she whispered, not seeing any need to draw out this conversation. The suspense was already killing her.

He squatted on his haunches in front of her. "Changed my mind?"

"About turning me."

His gaze slipped from hers.

Darcy felt her heart squeeze tightly. "I suppose you're eager to leave now," she said, although the words seemed to stick in her throat-behind the lump that threatened to choke her.

"Leave?"

"With the investigation over, I thought you'd be itching to get back to Seattle."

"It rather depends," he said quietly.

She knew her heart was in her eyes, but she couldn't help the hope she knew was reflected in her expression. Her emotions were too raw to conceal. "What does it depend on?"

"On you."

She swallowed. "You don't want to turn me, do you?"

"Not now."

"Because it's dangerous?"

"Because doing so wouldn't be right."

Shaking her head to clear her confusion, she said, "I don't understand."

"Love, you're going to have a baby." His expression was stark, his jaw tight.

"What?" Of all the reasons, that would have been last on her list. Pregnant? How-"Oh." Joe. Oh, G.o.d. "Everyone knows?"

"Yes, love."

"But the hospital-"

"Captain Springer told them I was your fiance. I asked them to let me tell you."

"My mother?"

He nodded.

"But, we've spoken on the phone every day." My own mother kept a secret like that?

"She thinks the child is mine. She'd have been on the first plane here if she hadn't caught the flu."

Darcy inhaled a ragged breath. "Joe?"

"He hasn't called in. And I thought you'd want to be the one to tell him." Quentin reached to pull away the pillow she clutched between nerveless fingers, and then closed his large hands around hers, warming them. "You don't have to make any decisions now. You have a lot to think about. And there are some things I want to tell you."

Her eyes pooled with tears, but she nodded. Will you tell me it's over? That you can't love a woman with a child? Because I won't give it up.

"I never told you how it was I came to be...what I am." He squeezed her hands, and his gaze held hers. "I was a spoiled, reckless young man. I left England in search of adventure, because I suffered from boredom. I'd never experienced a grand pa.s.sion for anything." He lifted his shoulders and shrugged sheepishly. "Except s.e.x, that is."

A little smile curved her mouth. This she could well imagine. He was describing the Quentin she'd first met.

"I never loved anything or anyone. I was a younger son, with no formal responsibilities, so my family was only too glad when I headed to the Caribbean." He smiled crookedly. "My behavior was causing a bit of a scandal, you see.

"Anyway, in the Caymans I met a dark, honey-skinned woman. Her appet.i.te matched mine, and she taught me things-wicked, s.e.xy things that bound me to her. I craved what she meted out. Even believed I was falling in love with her."

Darcy knew where this was headed. "She was a vampire."

"Yes. We spent weeks in her cottage next to the beach, and I never once questioned her aversion to the sunlight or odd cravings for raw flesh. For a time, her brand of s.e.xual sorcery enslaved me. I pleased her, and she gave me the one 'reward' that was in her power to give."

"Eternal life," Darcy whispered, fighting the burning in her eyes.

"Yes. Only, once I'd changed, I recognized her dark seduction for what it was, and she ceased to hold power over me. And I was d.a.m.ned to walk the Earth at night-forever seeking relief from my never-ending boredom."

Tears finally slipped down her face. "And now?"

"I tried to tie you to me in the exact same way that witch did to me. With my own brand of dark seduction."

"Because you were bored and you could?" She had to know what was really in his heart, however much it hurt.

"Because I love you, and I don't ever want to let you go."

Darcy closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. When she opened them, she stiffened and his worried expression prompted her to ask, "What do you fear?"

"That one day you'll wake up and discover I've bound you with desire."

Darcy nearly snorted. She was all right with that. But he was serious. "Would that be so bad?"

"It is if there isn't true love in your heart, as well," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Darcy pulled her hands from under his and reached to cradle his face between her palms, her heart bursting. "I love you, Quentin. For however long I live, I will always love you."

Quentin's eyes squeezed shut. "And I will love you for all my life."

Darcy's heart raced, and her hands smoothed over his broad shoulders. "Love me, Quentin."

"I do," he breathed.

"No, love me. Now."

His eyes popped open. "I see. Your shoulder?"

"Aches like the devil, but I have a deeper ache somewhere else."

"I think I have just the cure," he purred.

"Hurry."

Quentin stood, swept her into his arms, and strode to their bedroom. There, he laid her on her pink-flowered sheets and swiftly, gently, removed her clothing, and then tore his own from his body.

Darcy grinned. "A little anxious, are we?"

"We have suffered an entire week of purgatory, madam."

"Poor baby. Is that why you slept on your side of the bed?"

He stalked toward the bed, his expression intent, his gaze locked on her open, welcoming c.u.n.t. "I was afraid I'd hurt you if I so much as touched your soft skin. I've been going mad."

"Come to me," she said, opening her arms.

He stretched his body over hers, braced on his arms, careful not to jostle her shoulder. "My need is fierce. I don't know if I can be gentle," he whispered.

"I don't want gentle. I want you to f.u.c.k me, Quentin," Darcy moaned.

"Oh love, invite me into your solace." He nudged her portal with the smooth, broad head of his c.o.c.k.

Darcy's p.u.s.s.y glazed the tip with her creamy invitation.

He entered her with a single, endless glide, and then held himself still.

Releasing a sigh, Darcy closed her arms and legs around him and held him tight. "No one will ever fill my body, or my heart, like you do." She circled her hips on his c.o.c.k, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g them both to distraction.

"Christ, you're not making this any easier." He moved then, flexing his hips to drive into her, surging, pushing her up the bed with each hard stroke.

All her love poured from her body, bathing his c.o.c.k with welcome.

Quentin groaned and leaned down to take her lips in a searing kiss, eating her mouth. "I won't ever let you go. You're mine." His hips moved faster, and his thrusts grew sharper. His face tightened, but didn't transform.

Even in the throes of pa.s.sion, he protected her.

"Please, please. Harder. Oh, come deeper!" Darcy clawed his back, pumping her hips against his, seeking the sweet release his body promised.