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“Not really,” I deadpanned. “Someone kept me awake.”

He chuckled. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” I tilted my head up a fraction and kissed his lips. My mouth tasted like something had crawled into it and died overnight, but whatever. Peter drank blood, for gods’ sake. He could deal with a little morning breath. “Totally annoying, to be honest.”

My reaction earned a rare Peter smile, so broad it lit up his entire face. And…was that adimplein his right cheek?How the hell hadn’t I noticed it before? “You seemed okay with it at the time.”

He wasn’t wrong. Whatever his amnesia had done to the rest of his memories, it had left his understanding of how to please a woman completely intact. I’d lost count of my orgasms somewhere around number five.

I doubted either of us had slept more than an hour or two all night.

Fortunately, the torrent of my power that had destroyed those wineglasses and knocked over that lamp the first time we’d had sex seemed to have burned itself out. Other than one additional bedside table lamp that had somehow ended up on the floor, the suite seemed no worse for wear.

I reached up, unable to resist tracing the shape of Peter’s smile. “I didn’t realize you had a dimple,” I said matter-of-factly. “This is the first time I’ve seen you smile big enough for it to show.”

“I donothave a dimple,” he said, pretending offense. But his smile only grew.

“You do.” I touched it with a fingertip, then cupped his cheek in my palm.

He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. “Fine,” he conceded. “I suppose I do. What do you think of it?”

He tried to play the question as casual, but the slight hesitancy in his voice told me he cared about what I thought. I bit my lip, then pulled back, pretending to consider both the dimple and his question.

“It’s cute,” I said.

He opened an eye. “Cute?”

“Mm.”

“Not sexy?” He waggled his eyebrows, making me laugh.

In truth, his dimple was so sexy I wanted to lick it right off his face. “It’s…moderately sexy,” I admitted. No point in giving him a swelled head about it.

“Moderatelysexy,” he repeated. “I don’t know whether I should be pleased or offended.”

“You should be pleased,” I said. “I think your scar is sexy, too.” Possibly the understatement of the century.

Peter reached up and traced the faint scar above his upper lip. “I’m glad you like it,” he said. “When I see it in the mirror, I can’t help but wonder how I got it.”

A hint of melancholy had crept into his voice. That wouldn’t do. I sat up, letting the sheets pool around my waist. His eyes fell to my bare breasts, darkening as he took in the sight of me.

“I bet you got it doing something very brave,” I murmured before leaning in close and gently kissing it.

“Brave?” He dipped his chin a fraction and pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. “You think so?”

I nodded. “Definitely.”

He tugged me over him until I straddled his lap. Neither ofus had dressed again before falling asleep the night before; his erection was rock-hard beneath me. It was only with great difficulty that I managed to keep from rocking against him and starting all over again.

“I like that you think I might have been brave,” he said. “It lets me imagine I might be worthy of someone as incredible as you.”

He kissed me again, flipping us until he had me pinned beneath his body.

Alarm bells should have been going off in my head through all this. I’d gone to great lengths to change every part of my life and to keep vampires out of it. But in that moment, all I wanted was to touch him. And to let him touch every part of me.

To keep him, maybe. Even after this trip was over.

“You…think I’m incredible?” I breathed.