"He doesn't have the hots for me, he's just one of those men who thinks he wants something someone else has. He's not serious."

"Mmm. Reserving judgment on that. Here—" She snatched the condoms from my hand and stuffed them in my purse. "Use them with my blessing."

I ignored her suggestive leer and headed back out into the crowd, feeling an awful lot like a salmon swimming upstream as I walked away from the fair to the line of trailers that ran in a curve around the far end of the meadow.

I figured Raphael wouldn't mind if I used his digs to dry off. He had given me his key; clearly he expected to find me in his trailer when his job was done. I'd much rather wait for him there than in my small hotel room, or wandering around the fair where I could run into Tanya again. Not to mention Dominic and his octopus hands. Or the über-creepy Milos.

A half hour later I was sitting in Raphael's trailer warm and dry in one of his sweatshirts. My dress hung over the chair, toweled clean as best I could get it. My coat was hanging over a stack of newspapers. My underwear was tucked discreetly into my bag. I had debated the "undies on/undies off" dilemma, finally deciding that although undies off might lead Raphael to believe I was the sort of loose woman who was anticipating the type of action that underwear would inhibit, it was better than lounging around in wet, soggy underwear—or worse, having him discover wet, soggy underwear on me! Gross!

That serious issue resolved, I curled up with a blanket and a book on Raphael's bed, resisting the urge to search through his belongings to see what I could find out about him. Part of the spice to our whole relationship—what there was of it so far—was the sense of mystery that wrapped around him. I was greatly looking forward to uncovering all the many interesting bits and pieces that added up to an extremely snacky man.

That thought reminded me of the condoms Roxy had shoved into my purse. Although I was sure Raphael would be equipped with his own supply, there was no sense in taking chances. I glanced around to see where I could stash a condom, hidden from view just in case things didn't turn out as I hoped they would, and yet handy if it did.

"Pillow!" I said brightly, turning around to put a condom under one of the pillows on his bed. My hand paused over the nearest, then carefully edged my hand back.

There was no gun under the pillow.

"Hmmm." I looked under the other pillow. It, too, was gun-free. I placed the condom under it and leaned back, pulling my knees up so I could rest my chin on them while I thought.

I had felt his chest, had leaned up close against him, and he didn't have a gun strapped under his armpit, so where was it? I looked through the open door down the length of the trailer, wondering if he had hidden it somewhere here, or if he had moved it elsewhere.

"And come to think of it, why does he have a gun in the first place?" My voice was harsh as it echoed around the room, an intruder in a private little sanctuary. I scooted beneath the blankets, taking my book with me, and buried my face in his pillow as I gave myself up to the wonderful Raphael scent that never failed to make me go all girly inside.

It started the same way it had before.

Beloved, the voice echoed through my head. I fought to wake up, fought to shed the silken bonds that held me down into sleep and kept me from awareness. Once again my body seemed to be a heavy, alien thing that didn't answer my demands.

Beloved, do not fight me. He was touching me, stroking my body even though I knew he wasn't physically present. How could I fight a man whose very thoughts felt like the lightest of touches on my skin? I moaned deep in my throat as I struggled to escape the whispered strokes of his fingers. It was wrong, my mind shrieked at me. Every touch of his mind to mine was wrong! I had to make him understand that what he wanted was not mine to give.

I could never hurt you. You are my Beloved. You must not deny your fate any longer.

No, I screamed inside my head. He was coming closer to me, I could feel him moving through the night, graceful, powerful, a timeless hunter filled with the fury of eternal torment, calling through the night to the one person he believed could save him. Me.

I am not she, I pleaded with him. I do not belong to you. It is wrong. We will both suffer if you do not stop now.

I could never hurt you, Beloved.

I sobbed Raphael's name, struggling to break free of the Dark One's power, desperate to escape and regain control of my own body. My skin crawled with the thought of what would happen once he arrived. I would be damned as he was—I knew that as surely as I knew the sun rose each morning to banish the terrors of the night.

"You are more beautiful than any woman I have seen." Heat covered me, filled me, kindling desire within me, within him.

Beloved.

Raphael! I answered, fighting with every ounce of strength I had left.

A warmth, a presence I hadn't felt in the vision of the other night surrounded me. "You smell like flowers, but you taste of heaven." Flames licked up my back, burning my neck, lighting me on fire. I struggled to escape the flames, but the Dark One's hold on me was too great.

"I've thought about you all evening, thought about this. You were never once from my mind. You were meant for me. Every inch of you is perfect, perfectly made for me. You are mine."

He was coming closer. He was almost upon me.

We will be together forever, Beloved.

Nooooo!

"Say it. Say the words. I want to hear them." The fire consumed the front of me, burning down past flesh and muscle and bone, boiling my blood away until there was nothing left of the essence of me. What was left was love.

"Raphael!"

"Mmm. I thought you'd never wake up."

I opened my eyes. Raphael's amber gaze burned into me seconds before his mouth claimed mine. I gave myself to him, gave him everything there was of me and accepted him in return.

A soulless howl of agony rent the fabric of the night, bringing tears to my eyes even as I understood that there was nothing I could do for the Dark One.

"Joy?"

I opened my eyes again and smiled at the concern in Raphael's beautiful eyes. "Hello, Bob."

"You went stiff for a moment."

I allowed my smile to go naughty and rubbed up against him. "I'm not the only thing that's stiff."

"Cheeky," he grinned, dipping his head down for another taste of my lips. The feel of his warm skin touching mine, the taste of him, of his body pressing mine down into the mattress, reaffirmed the knowledge that this was right, that this was meant to be. His presence banished the nightmare that almost was. A tiny spark of guilt flared to life with the thought that I should not be celebrating life with Raphael while another was suffering, but the honest part of my mind stomped out the guilt with the acceptance that some things were beyond my control.

I sucked on Raphael's tongue as he checked my teeth, sliding my hands down the muscles of his shoulders to his back.

"You're naked," I said, pausing in our kiss to breathe.

He leaned back and looked down at me, trailing a finger across my collarbone, down the middle of my breastbone, still farther down to my belly, ending with a tickle at the gates of my own personal paradise. "Ah, baby, so are you."

I melted into one big puddle of goo. Baby. It wasn't the word, it was the way he said it.

"I was waiting for you. Somehow I thought you would prefer me dressed this way."

He leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek across my breast. The barest hint of stubble added a dimension of tingle that I hadn't felt before. I sucked in a delighted gulp of air.

"You are positively psychic."