Raven looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. When Adonis spoke, his voice echoed of loneliness.

“Matter of fact, I do. My friend Solaris owns this place,” she answered, directing her gaze at Sol.

He puffed out his chest a bit. “I knew that. I’m a little bit psychic.” He let out a nervous laugh. “Gods, I am so pathetic,” he muttered.

“What’s ‘a little’ psychic-how little?” Raven asked jokingly, noting the easy way he stood, relaxed and slightly self-assured, with just the right amount of awkwardness.

Handsome enough to be in a Ralph Lauren commercial, he had an upper-class air about him, of fresh sea air, tanned skin and sun-streaked hair. She could imagine him jogging in slow motion down the miles of white sandy beach, wearing the Amazon warrior’s swath of suede, his well-toned muscles flexing as he ran.

Nice body. Her gaze traveled to his hands. For as long as she could remember, Raven had had a hand fetish. After observing a man’s eyes, she checked out his hands, which in this case had not seen much physical labor. He was probably an artist, a bum, or in the healthcare field.

Or he was insanely wealthy.

He smiled and revealed the sexiest dimples and whitest teeth.

“Not that little,” he said, signaling Solaris for another round. “Psychic or otherwise.” He winked as he set the record straight.

Adonis pulled over a stool and sat. Raven could tell he wanted to become more than a bar buddy. Whether his interest was merely sexual or something more would take a bit more time to determine.

“Is this a natural ability, or one you’ve practiced over the years?” Raven asked as she grabbed a handful of pretzels that sat in a bowl. The bar top, adorned festively for the harvest season, overflowed with tiny gourds, apples, pumpkins and mums.

“I didn’t inherit these gifts, if that’s what you mean. Although there are stories told by my family that my great-great-grandmother was a full-blooded gypsy from Romania, or Austria, or some such place.”

“That’s interesting. I have family from there, too. Romania, I mean. Where are you from? I mean, in the States?” Raven lifted her cocktail, watching her attractive drinking companion.

“ Gloucester, originally, then Atlanta. I lived in California for a few years, too.”

Raven turned toward the young man for a moment. “Let me guess, your father is a long-liner?”

Adonis fiddled with his shot glass as Solaris grabbed the bottle to fill it again. He smiled at the bartender. “Yup, for over twenty years. He has a small fleet of boats that he uses for lobsters, but he has a crew on a boat that still goes out for swordfish.”

Listening to him while looking into those pools of blue, she saw an intensity burning behind his eyes. Before she realized it, he’d taken her hand. His skin was golden and taut. Suddenly, the catcalls, hoots and hollering that filled the air faded away. Her skin warmed to his touch. Raven’s inner alarm went off. Not too many people were able to physically affect her this quickly. The part of Raven that people thought of as unnatural ran on the cool side of ninety-eight point six, which was quite ordinary for her and about a third of the island’s population.

The bar was noisy, and Adonis had leaned in closer so Raven could hear him. “I actually worked at the CDC for a time. Then I went off to the west coast to do my own research. Creating vaccines, or at least trying to make viable ones. It was very interesting work. Tedious and challenging, it kept my mind sharp.” He smelled like sugar cookies.

Something was in the air-something more than lust.

Her curiosity piqued. “What type of research?”

“I actually worked with hot agents for a while.”

“Wow, lethal viruses! That’s risky work. Which ones? How did you get involved with that?” Raven asked. Her mind attempted to prioritize some of the hundreds of questions she wanted to ask.

He ran his fingers through his hair and said with a sigh, “I was personally invited and I really couldn’t say no. It was a great opportunity. Not too many like that come up.”

“Which viruses did you work with?”

In an instant, the excitement of talking with someone who’d worked with lethal viruses was eclipsed by the sound of a deeply male and extremely sexual voice from behind the bar. Bo Wasake. “Hey, Raven.”

She knew that voice intimately and turned to find her gorgeous on-again, off-again lover, Bo Wasake, standing in the shadows. Her heart skipped a beat or two. He did that to her every time. For all of her level-headedness, when Bo was near, Raven’s knees went weak and her insides turned to mush. Even after ten years.

“Hey, Boo.” He got a charge out of trying to scare her whenever he had the chance, hence the nickname.

Bo had mixed blood. Delicious blood. And the thought of it made Raven’s mouth water in anticipation of a taste. Pavlov’s vampire.

His mother was an extraordinarily powerful witch. His father was a Lakota shaman, like Bo’s grandfather and great-grandfather, and so on down the line. Somewhere, a few sprinkles of human blood coursed through his veins, or so he claimed. Raven thought he said that just to make himself seem even more appealing to her-as if that were at all likely. He was pure perfection in every way possible.

“What about you?” Adonis asked, turning toward Raven.

“Oh-I’m the M.E. for the island.” Raven’s gaze followed the lines of Bo’s taut muscles rippling beneath his sky blue suede shirt. A sterling and turquoise belt wrapped around his narrow waist, and she envied the silver strap. She ached to encircle her legs around his hips, but the timing was all wrong.

As was his habit, he would come into her life with exploding passion then disappear for weeks. Each time he left her heartbroken and unsure of herself, a feeling with which Raven was not comfortable. She had to guard herself against this magnificent creature. This creature who thought and acted like the wolf that was so integral to his being.

They were on pause at the moment, though Bo always managed to seduce her back into his arms. Standing over six feet tall, with the proud features of his native ancestry-long, silken hair and obsidian eyes-he was an incredibly hard habit to break.

She directed her comment to Bo. “You tending bar tonight?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I’m helping Sol out for a few hours.”

“Can I come by later?” The words appeared in her mind, an unspoken form of communication that for some reason only Bo and Raven shared. She could never say no to him, no matter how hurt she felt. He was irresistible.

“Hey ya, sweetness,” a familiar voice called from the other side of the bar. It was Bethany Logan, and she wanted Bo’s attention now. Raven watched the redheaded woman and noticed her brown eyes flash to gold for a brief second as warning to Raven. Bethany wanted Bo for her mate. She was the alpha female in their pack. Bethany had had her chance years ago and couldn’t hold onto Bo, but she wasn’t ready to give him up yet.

Raven ignored the childish power play. She knew Bethany would be going home alone, and eventually Bethany would realize it, too.

“Sure,” Raven answered Bo, trying not to look as excited as she felt, grateful for the part of her that hid the sudden blush she felt rise to her cheeks. His full lips spread into a delicious grin. Gods, she hated loving him. In spite of their weeks apart, there remained a connection that refused to be severed.

Raven finished her drink and started to get up.

“You’re leaving,” Adonis said, disappointment written all over his face. “We were just getting to know one another.”

She began to feel the hunger build within her. It was time to go. “Yeah, I’m kinda tired.”

She pulled her claret leather coat off the back of the bar chair, then, like a gentleman, Adonis helped her into it. He gently pulled her waist-length black hair out from the collar. His hands grazed her behind. Raven’s tight leather pants hugged her curves. She noticed Bo watching Adonis’s every move. Raven thought she heard a low rumble erupt from him. She liked to think of Bo as her man. Her warrior.