Page 11 of Midnight Enchantment

“But you are not.” He might have thought she was lying, but the power he sensed radiating from her bore no hint of vampire. How could she and her brother be twins, yet so different? He could understand it if they were both vampireandwitch, but they were not. She was a mystery, indeed, all wrapped up in a lovely package.

“Turnabout is fair play,” Lily said. “Tell me about you.”

“What would you like to know?”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-seven, in mortal years.”

“And in vampire years?”

“Nine hundred, give or take a decade.”

Lily’s eyes widened. Nine hundred! He was even older than her great-grandfather, Andras, who had lived for eight centuries. She wondered if they knew each other, but thought it highly unlikely, since each side hated the other. Too bad, she mused. Imagine the stories they could share!

“Are you going to tell me I am too old for you?” he asked, one brow arched in amusement.

Lily laughed in spite of herself.

And he laughed with her.

She loved the sound of it, so rich and deep and sexy. “Can I ask you something that’s none of my business?”

“If you wish.”

“When we met, I asked if you were married, and you said, ‘not anymore.’ Were you a vampire then?”

“Not the first time.”

“You’ve been married more than once?”

“A few times.”

She stared at him. A few times? Well, duh, she thought. Any man who had lived as long as he had was bound to have been married more than once or twice. How many times, wondered a little voice in the back of her head. Once every hundred years?

Raedan watched the play of emotions chase themselves across her face.

After a moment, she asked, “How many is a few?”

“Four,” he replied candidly. “Though of course, there were other women in-between.”

“Of course,” she said dryly. He was a healthy male, after all.

“Did you think me another Bluebeard?”

Lily grinned. Bluebeard was the main character in a French tale of a wealthy man who had many, many wives, all who died by his hand, and whose bodies were kept in his castle.

“Trust me, none died by my hand.”

“Are you reading my mind again?”

“There is no need. Your lovely face is very expressive. You must learn to hide your emotions.”

“Would it do any good?”

“Perhaps.”

“It’s getting late,” Lily said. “I should go.”

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