“Hi. I’m Katy from Florida.” I grinned. “Now known as ’no longer the new kid.’”

“Ah, I see.” He glanced up to where Mr. Garrison was wheeling the projector to the middle of the classroom. “Small town, not many faces, everyone stares kind of thing?”

“You got it.”

He laughed softly. “Good. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me.” He pulled out a notebook, his arm brushing mine. A static charge shocked me. “Sorry about that.”

“Totally okay,” I told him.

Blake gave me one more quick grin before turning his gaze to the front of the classroom. Fiddling with the chain around my neck, I sneaked a quick peek at the new boy. Well, at least bio now had some eye candy. Couldn’t go wrong with that.

Daemon wasn’t waiting at the double doors to the library. Shouldering my bag, I entered the musty-smelling room. A young librarian glanced up and smiled as I looked around. The back of my neck was warm, but I didn’t see him. Knowing Daemon, he was probably hiding so no one would see His Coolness in a library. I passed a few underclassmen at the tables and computers eating their lunches, and then roamed around until I found him back in the nosebleed section—Eastern European culture. A basic no-man’s-land.

He was lounging in a cubicle beside an outdated computer, hands shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans. A wavy lock of hair covered his forehead, brushing against thick lashes. His lips curled into a half smile.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to find me.” He made no move to clear up any space in the tiny 6x6 hole.

I dropped my bag outside the walls and hopped up on the desk opposite him. “Embarrassed someone would see you and think you’re capable of reading?”

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“I do have a reputation to maintain.”

“And what a lovely reputation that is.”

He stretched out his legs so that his feet were under mine. “So what did you want to talk about”—his voice lowered to a deep, sexy whisper—“in private?”

I shivered—and it had nothing to do with the temperature. “Not what you’re hoping.”

Daemon gave me a sexy smirk.

“Okay.” I gripped the edge of the desk. “How did you know I was sick in the middle of the night?”

Daemon stared at me for a moment. “You don’t remember?”

His eerie eyes were way too intense. I dropped my gaze…to his mouth. Wrong move. I stared at the map of Europe over his shoulder. Better. “No. Not really.”

“Well, it was probably the fever. You were burning up.”

My eyes snapped back to his. “You touched me?”

“Yes, I touched you…and you weren’t wearing a lot of clothes.” The smug stretch of his lips spread. “And you were soaked…in a white T-shirt. Nice look. Very nice.”

Heat crept over my cheeks. “The lake…it wasn’t a dream?”

Daemon shook his head.

“Oh my God, so I did go swimming in the lake?”

He pushed off the desk and took one step forward, which put him in the same breathing space as me…if he actually needed to breathe. “You did. Not something I expected to see on a Monday night, but I’m not complaining. I saw a lot.”

“Shut up,” I hissed.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He reached out, tugging on the sleeve of my cardigan. I smacked his hand away. “It’s not like I haven’t seen the upper part before, and I didn’t get a real good look down—”

I came off the desk swinging. My knuckles only brushed his face before he caught my hand. Wowzers, he was fast. Daemon pulled me up against his chest and lowered his head, eyes snapping with restrained anger. “Don’t hit, Kitten. It’s not nice.”

“You’re not nice.” I tried pulling back, but he kept my wrist secured in his hand. “Let me go.”

“I’m not sure I can do that. I must protect myself.” But he dropped my hand.

“Oh, really, that’s your reason for—for manhandling me?”

“Manhandling?” He pressed forward until my lower back was against the cubicle desk. “This isn’t manhandling or whatever the hell that is.”

Visions of me against the wall at my house and Daemon kissing me danced in my head like sugarplums. Parts of my body tingled. Oh, so not a good sign. “Daemon, someone is going to see us.”

“So?” He gently picked up my hand. “Not like anyone is going to say a thing to me.”

I drew in a deep breath. His scent was on my tongue. Our chests touched. Body said yes. Katy said no. I wasn’t affected by this. Not by how close we were or how his fingers were sliding under the sleeve of my cardigan. It wasn’t real. “So my trace has faded, but this stupid connection hasn’t?”

“Nope.”

Disappointed, I shook my head. “What does that mean, then?”

“I don’t know.” His fingers were completely under my sleeve, smoothing up my forearm. His skin—it hummed like electricity. There was nothing like it.

“Why do you keep touching me?” I asked, flustered.

“I like to.”

God, I liked it, too, and I shouldn’t. “Daemon…”

“But back to the trace. You know what that means.”

“That I don’t have to see your face outside of school?”

He laughed, and it rumbled through me. “You’re no longer at risk.”

Somehow, and I really haven’t a clue how, my free hand was against his chest. His heart beat was fast and strong. So did mine. “I think the not-seeing-your-face part outweighs the safe part.”




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