Page 29 of Fanged Temptation

I felt like a terrible person. Choosing my own happiness, my own longing for Leah’s companionship, over her safety. Still, my body wouldn’t move, wouldn’t let me gather my things and slink away into the city sprawl.

Plopping down onto the couch, I ran a hand through my hair and eyed the curling iron, half-tempted to style away my worries. Instead, I flipped through the magazine, my mind athousand miles away from the glossy photos of couture and celebrity interviews.

The hopeless romantic in me wanted to believe that Leah and I could just be honest with each other. That I could tell her everything and it would all go down well and we could stay here on this boat forever. Another part screamed that I’d be dooming her by staying, by dragging her further into the crosshairs of a centuries-old vampire with a twisted sense of ownership.

I sighed, letting the magazine slide to the floor with a mutedthud. The day was warm, but I was cold all over, paralyzed in my indecision. With nothing better to do, I got to my feet and began a slow pacing around the cramped cabin – back and forth, back and forth – until I realized I was wearing a groove into the floorboards.

I paused at a shelf crammed with odds and ends: battered paperbacks, a jar of random seashells, a half-finished knitting project –knitting?The faint scent of saltwater clung to just about everything, brine and Leah’s earthy presence that made me feel oddly safe.

Safe – but useless. I was caught in limbo. Hesitant to stay, unwilling to leave, and constantly retreading the almost-kiss that occurred between us. Did she feel the same electric current I did? Was she as unsettled and enthralled by it as I was?

What if I was wrong? What if all those fleeting moments were only charged in my imagination? What if her kindness was nothing more than the same compassion she’d always shown everyone?

Even so, beneath all that uncertainty, a tiny, defiant hope had taken root. The near-kiss haunted me, an indelible sign that perhaps I wasn’t alone in my desire. And itwasdesire. It always had been. Every time she caught my gaze, every touch of her fingers that I brushed off as accidental, every quiet moment thatseemed to crackle with potential – it all stirred a reckless urge to lean in just a little more.

My gaze landed on a small cupboard I’d never opened. Before I could convince myself to mind my own business, I yanked it open. A hodgepodge of items greeted me: some spare blankets, a box labeled “emergency flares,” and… an unopened set of wine glasses, still in their packaging.

My thumb traced the glossy cardboard, and an idea – a ridiculously impractical, possibly stupid idea – ignited in my brain.

“You’re an idiot,” I muttered to myself. And yet, a small spark of excitement flared in my chest.

Many hours and plenty of cursing later, I scrambled around Myrtle's back deck, adding finishing touches to what I hoped would pass as a classy dinner setting.

The deck was minuscule, but I’d done my best to transform it into something befitting a special occasion. A simple white tablecloth draped over a small folding table, the new wine glasses gleaming under the glow of a couple of paper lanterns, and a few seashells strewn about for good measure.

I had no idea if my cooking would impress anyone, least of all Leah, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. The pans in the kitchenette were still warm, and the lingering aroma of roasted vegetables and seared fish filled the cabin.

Even though I couldn’t possibly stomach any of it, I’d gone through a bit of a cooking phase a few months back, convinced I was set to become the next Jamie Oliver. Whether or not that was true was still up for debate, as the only person who had beenable to taste my creations was Addison, and she was way too polite for her compliments to be trusted.

I smoothed out the wrinkles of my evening dress, purchased only hours earlier, and adjusted my earrings. With nothing left to do but twiddle my fingers and wait for Leah to get home, I settled on one of the rickety chairs and tried not to think too hard about what I was doing.

A few minutes later, I heard the jetty creak and the boat dipped slightly as Leah stepped onboard.

“Maxine? What smells so good?” she called out, the chime of her voice sending a tingle down my spine. “Where are you?”

“I’m out here!” I answered, trying not to sound too jittery.

She poked her head out the back door, taking in the table, the wine glasses, and the soft lantern glow. Confusion clouded her features. “What’s all this?”

With a blasé smile, I motioned toward her bedroom. “Go check your bed.”

A suspicious gleam lit her eyes. “What did you do, Max?”

“Nothing – nothing! Just trust me, okay?”

She studied me for a beat, taking in my apricot evening dress and carefully curled hair, before turning wordlessly and striding to her bedroom. I busied myself pouring wine into one of the gleaming glasses and filled the other with another crimson concoction I’d had stashed in my purse since my trip to the bloodbar.

A few minutes later, Leah’s bedroom door creaked and she stepped out onto the deck.

“Maxine, what is all this?” she repeated, her voice softer now, cautious. A touch of bashfulness colored her cheeks as she gestured at herself and the sleek emerald dress she’d slipped into.

I grinned in triumph, and my heart did a funny little somersault in my chest.

Back at the mall, when she’d first tried it on, I knew it was perfect for her. And while she’d huffed and puffed about the price tag, I’d seen the fascination in her eyes. That was enough incentive for me to quietly reserve the dress as soon as Leah wasn’t looking.

I’d gone back to buy it and laid it out on her bed – and good god did she wear it well.

The corset accentuated her slender waist, the tumbling skirt making her look even taller than she already was. The neckline dipped just enough to be alluring without losing its understated grace. The nervous hunch in Leah’s posture and the slight wrinkle in her brow did nothing to diminish the effect.

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