“You’re so different here,” she’d said of him on the balcony, and she’d seemed to like the difference. Colin had been different. He’d been himself again—or at least his prevampire self. Unending night had worn on him until he’d become as dark as his surroundings. Even his ranch had become a black place for him. He’d never been able to go out on his land, work his horses, or care for the cattle in the daylight. He hired hands to do that for him. But for decades he’d found solace in roaming his land at night—in chasing the last rays of sunlight as day reluctantly gave way to night, and then, in turn, giving way to the sun as it inevitably reclaimed the sky. Not so recently. Recently his life had seemed nothing but unending darkness, his beloved ranch not freedom and open space, but just another gilded cage where night continued to imprison him.
Living a life of shadows had worn on him and darkened Colin’s personality as well. But that wasn’t really him. It was what this damn vampire curse had turned him into. Summer could change that; Summer could change everything, and he wanted her to. He wanted to be the Colin who laughed and lived and loved again.
So he’d put in an overseas call to his brother who was still sleeping his way around gay Paris, and Barnabas had told him Summer was staying in her sister, Candice’s, cabin, which sat in a clearing at the southern edge of the pine forest surrounding Mysteria. Which is why he had just trekked through said forest with Summer’s purse and a gift for her and why he was now standing just inside the edge of trees facing the brightly lit little cabin with its homey, wraparound porch.
Colin drew a deep breath. Sunlight and honey—he could scent her from there. She had to be home. He started forward, telling himself that the jittery feeling in his stomach wasn’t nerves, it was just anticipation. Which was only natural; it had been decades since he’d been interested enough to actually consider courting a lady. He just needed to remember that he used to be good with the ladies. Charming—that’s how they used to describe him. Out of practice he may be, but he’d dig deep and put back on that old charm, and Summer would see that—
The door to her cabin opened, and Colin came to an abrupt halt when a man’s body was silhouetted clearly in the doorway. Summer joined the guy, and Colin’s gaze focused on her, blocking out the man and the night and everything but this amazing woman who was, to him, a waking dream.
He loved what she was wearing. The skirt was soft and feminine, and coupled with the creamy yellow of her shirt and the gold of her hair, she looked just like she smelled: like a vision of sunlight and sweetness. He wanted to take her in his arms and mold her softness to his body and inhale her fragrance until he had to fight with himself not to explode.
Then the guy moved, blocking his view of Summer. With a growing sense of horror, Colin watched the jerk nonchalantly drape an arm over her shoulder. Another scent came to him then: one of lemons and laughter and . . . and . . . fairies?
The asshole who was trying to steal his sunshine was a fairy? His jaw tightened, and it felt like someone had slammed a sledgehammer into his gut when the Goddess-be-damned fairy bent and began gently kissing Summer. For a moment Colin stood, rooted into place. Then, with a small sound of disgust, he turned and melted back into the darkness of the forest.
Just beyond vision of the cabin, Colin paced . . . and paced . . . and paced. He had the urge to throw her purse into the branches of the nearest pine and break the carefully wrapped package into a million little pieces, but he managed to control himself, although just barely.
Summer had said she had a boyfriend, but he’d scented her then and hadn’t smelled even a hint of another male on her. He had most definitely not smelled that fucking blond lemon drop! Yet the fairy had been there—in her home—with his lips all over her.
All right. Fine. He should have expected a woman as attractive as Summer to have other suitors. He would just have to step up his game. He was more than a match for the lemon drop. Fairies, even the wingless male variety, were all fickle sluts. Didn’t Summer know that? Maybe she didn’t. His brother had said she’d just moved back after being away for most of her four years of college. Maybe she didn’t have much experience with adult male fairies. Colin’s jaw clenched again, and his hands fisted. He’d crush that damn lemon drop into a little yellow speck if he did anything to hurt her.
By the time he’d paced off his temper and returned to Summer’s cabin, the lights had been turned out. The scent of lemon fairy had also been extinguished, which helped to calm him. The damn lemon drop hadn’t stayed the night. Colin left his offering on the porch just before dawn.
The morning was gorgeous. It was weird how getting rid of an old crush had cleared her vision. Her plan had been flawed, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t get busy on a new one . . . a new one that might just be tall and dark and handsome. She really shouldn’t obsess so much about being in perfect control. And, anyway, she could handle the vampire. She’d certainly handled the fairy. She was definitely interested in Colin, or at least she thought she might be interested in him. Well, she was going to stop by the gallery on her way home from school to get her purse. She’d see then if there really was any attraction going on with the vamp and take it from there.
Summer felt amazingly alive and happy as she slathered black raspberry jam on a piece of toast and munched on it hurrying out of the cabin on her way to school—and almost tripped and fell face-first over the heap of stuff in front of her door.
“What the—” Summer rubbed the knee she’d landed on, looking back at the pile of . . . “My purse,” she murmured. Sure enough, her purse was there. Right in front of the door. Sitting next to it was a package wrapped in expensive black tissue paper. There was a simple ivory card taped to it that just said For Summer in an old-fashioned-looking cursive script. Intrigued, she fingered the card and then opened the package carefully, so she didn’t mess up the beautiful paper.
Summer gasped and oohed in pleasure. It was a copy of the Romeo and Juliet painting, reproduced in oil on canvas and framed in an exquisite gold-painted wood frame.
“Colin,” she whispered and felt a thrill of pleasure thrum through her at the sound of his name.
“That might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Jenny said over the barely edible lunch they’d bought from the vomitorium, aka the school cafeteria.
“It has to have come from him. Right?”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Of course it came from him. Hello! He brought back your purse, and—now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe he’s the only vampire you got zapped into the R and J painting with.”
“Definitely the only one.”
“The vamp is wooing you,” Jenny said smugly.
“Wooing? Is that even still a word?”
“Yes. And that’s what he’s doing. So prepare yourself.”
“For what?”
Jenny shook her head sadly. “Oh, you poor child. I would imagine that a rough ballpark on your vampire’s age is probably at least two hundred.”
Summer blinked. “He’s not my vampire.”
“Yet,” Jenny said.
“Two hundred,” Summer said as if she hadn’t spoken. “As in years old?”
“Yep.”
“Wow.”
“And as that very tasteful, expensive, and sexy gift shows, men used to know how to do some wooing.”
“Wow.” Summer considered Jenny’s words as she tried to chew her soyburger. “I’m going over there,” she said decisively.
“To the gallery?”
“Yes. I’m going to thank him for the painting. And for returning my purse. Plus, uh, I’d, well, like to make sure there’s no misunderstanding about anything he might have accidentally seen last night.”
“You lost me on that one.”
“Ken kissed me good night last night.”
“So? You said you decided you’re totally not interested in him.”
“I did, and it was his kiss that sealed my decision. But first I thought I should give him a chance,
which meant I kissed him back.”
“Again, so?”
“Well, I was kissing him and looking over his shoulder and thinking about the moon and lesson plans and stuff, and I thought I saw something—or someone—outside by the edge of the woods. Then the next morning I found my purse and the painting on my front porch.”
“Wait, back up. Kenny was kissing you, and you were thinking about lesson plans and crap like that?”
Summer nodded.
“That’s a damn shame. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with fairies these days. Kenny-benny doesn’t ring my bell, but damn! He’s a fairy, a fey being who practically has sex and frolics for a living. He should be able to hold a woman’s attention with a kiss.”
“Don’t be so hard on him. I’d just been kissed by Colin, and the comparison was not good for Kenny.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Yet you were going on and on about how you weren’t interested in the vamp and how he wasn’t your type and how he didn’t fit into your control-freak plan.”
“I’m not a control freak, or at least not all the time. Anyway, Colin might not be exactly what I’ve thought of as my type, but he’s definitely a better kisser than Ken.”
“Big surprise there,” Jenny said.
“Be nice,” Summer said.
Jenny rolled her eyes again.
“Like I said, I’m going to swing by the gallery after school. This time it’ll be just me and not a busload of germs and hormones. Maybe sparks will fly again between us, maybe not. But I’m going to give him a shot.”
“Good idea. And speaking of germs and hormones, I’m not done deciding on that damn Purdom kid’s detention for that bullshit spell he cast yesterday. I’m still looking into the he-had-an-accomplice angle.”
“You might want to interrogate McArter; they’re buds. Oh, and remember, don’t tell him about my magic,” Summer added quickly.
“I got it the first hundred times you told me to keep quiet about it. Don’t worry; I think it’s hilarious that they don’t know about your magic. Makes them think their magic is totally screwed up, which serves them right. They shouldn’t be using magic at school or at a school event. Brats,” Jenny said, eyes flashing.
The bell rang, and both women sighed. “Back into the fray,” Jenny said.
“Do you think it’s possible to Shakespeare freshmen to death?” Summer asked.
“One can only hope,” Jenny said.
Eight
Summer checked her lipstick in her car’s rearview mirror and smoothed her hair, feeling insanely thankful that the day was bright and clear and humidity-free, which meant she was having a good hair day. She glanced at the front of Dark Shadows. There were no other cars parked close by, and she mentally crossed her fingers that three o’clock was too early for evening visitors and too late for lunchtime visitors, so it would be empty. Well, except for Colin, that is.
She could do this. She could go inside and smile and thank him for returning her purse and leaving such a great gift. She could figure out a way to let him know that Kenny was history. And maybe, just maybe, she could see if that amazing sizzle that sparked between them yesterday was more than just a magical fluke. Then she could consider revising her future plan to include him.
Before she could chicken out, Summer forced herself to get out of the car and enter the dark, cool gallery.
Her first thought was that her hunch had been right; the gallery appeared deserted. Her second thought was that it was very uncomfortable to be standing there all by herself with only the feeling of being watched to keep her company.
The feeling of being watched?
Definitely. She definitely could feel eyes on her: dark, hungry, intense eyes. Almost as if he drew her gaze, she turned her head and looked deeper into the shadows of the gallery. Sure enough, Colin was standing there, his gaze locked on her.
“Good afternoon, Summer,” he said.
His voice reminded her of dark chocolate and wine and sex.
“Hi,” she blurted, hating how nervous she sounded. Then she cleared her throat and got control of herself. “I hope you don’t mind me just dropping in like this.”
His lips tilted up slightly. “It’s a gallery. The idea is for people to drop in.”
“Then I’m glad I have the right idea,” she said, tilting her own lips up.
“And I’m glad you came by. I wanted to see you again. Would you like to come back to my office?”
“Yes, yes, I would.”
Summer’s smile increased as she followed Colin, getting another excellent view of his tight butt as he led her through the room with the Romeo and Juliet painting, back to an inconspicuous door that opened to an ornate, fussily decorated office.
“This is definitely not you,” she said, running her finger down the back of a gilded Louis the Something-or-Other chair. Then her gaze flew up to him as she tried to gauge if she’d just offended him.
He simply shrugged and said, “You’re right. This is Barnabas’s office, and it’s definitely him. He likes pomp and circumstance and lots of gold.”
“And what do you like?” Summer heard her voice asking the question that had flitted automatically through her mind. She clamped her mouth shut. She usually had more control than speaking her thoughts aloud, but she found herself being temporarily glad of her lack of control when his gaze went dark and intense as he answered her.
“If you mean what kind of decoration, I like it more masculine, although I don’t think a house is really a home without a woman’s touch.” The vampire blinked, obviously surprised at his response, and then he smiled almost shyly at Summer. “I think that’s the first time I’ve admitted that to myself.”
“Admitted that you like a woman’s touch?” she asked softly.
His gaze trapped hers. “Admitted that I need a woman’s touch,” he said. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. You affect me oddly, Summer.”
“Is that a good or a bad thing?” she asked.
“For me, it is a very good thing,” he said.
They stared at each other until Summer became uncomfortable under the heat of his scrutiny. “Thank you for returning my purse to me,” she said, trying to temper the electricity that was building between them with words. “And I absolutely love the Romeo and Juliet painting. Thank you for it.”
“I’m glad you like it. I wanted to give you something that might make you remember what happened yesterday.”
“It’s been kinda hard for me to forget,” Summer said.
“For me, too.” Colin moved closer to her. “Yesterday meant a lot to me. I haven’t felt the sun on my skin in many decades. It’s not something I want to forget.”
“You know I didn’t do it on purpose. I can’t bring you the sun again.” Summer was finding it hard to think rationally with him so close, but her mind was working enough that she wanted to make it perfectly clear to him that she couldn’t just zap them back into the picture; she couldn’t make the sun shine for him.
Colin touched the side of her face. “You’re wrong about that.”
Summer shivered. His touch was cool, but her skin beneath his fingers came alive with heat.
You are my sunshine.
Summer jumped when his voice sounded inside her head.
“You heard that, didn’t you?” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I also heard you call to me from across the room yesterday.”
That dark intensity was back in his eyes, and he spoke with such emotion, such passion, that Summer’s heartbeat quickened, and she felt her breathing deepen.
“You don’t know me, and I don’t know you, but there is something between us that I’ve not experienced until I touched you yesterday. You say you can’t bring me sunshine again, yet to me your skin, your breath, your hair, even the summer-sky color of your eyes—all of you is light and shining to me. It is as if, somehow, magically, you are literally my summer, my sunlight.”
“I—I don’t know how that could be. I’m j
ust me.” Summer couldn’t help leaning her cheek into his hand. His scent and touch were intoxicating, and she wanted nothing more at that instant than to get closer to him.
“I don’t know how it could be either, but you are an unexpected gift that I plan to cherish. If you’ll let me. Will you give me a chance, Summer?” Colin lifted her chin. “I realize I’m not what you’re used to—not the kind of man you would consider a boyfriend.” He ground the word out. “And yesterday you said you were already seeing someone.”
“I’m not,” she said.
“Not?”
“Not seeing anyone.” She stared up into his dark eyes, utterly mesmerized by his closeness.
“But last night . . .”
“Was nothing. There’s nothing between us. Ken isn’t my boyfriend.”
“I saw—” he began.
“You saw him kissing me. It was just, well, basically a test. I wanted to see if he could make me feel what you made me feel.”
“And did he?”
“No,” Summer said, staring into the vampire’s eyes. “Not even maybe. That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I had to see if it was still there,” she said softly.
“It?”
“The sizzle between us.”
Colin smiled. “It’s still there. Let me taste you, sunshine, and I’ll prove it to you.”
“Yes,” she whispered, already leaning into him.
Colin didn’t claim her mouth right away. Instead, he drank in her scent and touch, mingling breath with breath. “I want you more than you can know.” He spoke the words against her skin. “When I touch you I’m alive again. I can feel the sunlight on my face.” He nuzzled her neck and then buried his hand in her thick blond hair and breathed in the scent of sunlight and honey that clung to her.
“Kiss me, Colin,” she murmured.
With a strangled sound, his mouth finally met hers, easily erasing any lingering memory of Ken’s soft, sweet, boring kisses. His skin didn’t have the heat it had the day before, but it didn’t matter. It was still him, and Summer craved his taste and touch like she’d never wanted anyone or anything before in her life.