I open all the windows and burn several candles throughout the condo before Adam arrives for the night shift. Not that I'm trying to keep secrets—more like trying to avoid a confrontation that I don't have time for.

Gabe and I kept our distance from one another for the rest of the day and barely spoke. I believe the kitchen situation left us both on edge with unspoken questions hanging in the air—questions that I don't have time for either.

Adam arrived promptly at five-thirty. If he noticed or suspected my reasons for the open windows and candles, he didn't say. Gabe couldn't leave fast enough. He didn't even say good-bye.

Adam arrives carrying a plain white garment bag and places it over a kitchen chair. He is his usual dark, moody self, but as soon as Gabe leaves he appears to relax a bit.

Adam sits down on the sofa and throws one well-muscled arm over the top. Tonight he's wearing faded jeans and a cream-colored Henley shirt that hugs his body and leaves little to the imagination. I have to make a conscious effort not to ogle him.

Maybe I'm trying too hard. What would happen if I openly studied him whenever I felt like it? A little reverse psychology may turn the tables with him—giving me the upper hand.

Problem is, whenever I look at him I can't help but remember that kiss, or other moments when we've been glued to one another for various reasons. And just like that I feel guilty, shy, and embarrassed all at once. Admittedly, sometimes he seems to flip a switch in me. He's either pissing me off or turning me on. It's always one extreme or the other with him. Never an easy middle ground.

It's hard to imagine that in the course of a couple of weeks I've gone from being content, if not bored, with my life to...oh crap! My life went from zero to a hundred mph, and the brakes are out.

As I sit in the opposite chair with a novel and a cup of hot tea, I try out my new tactic of staring at Adam over the top of my book.

He seems mildly amused and I give up quickly. Staring at him will only get me into more trouble tonight, and I think I've had enough of that for one day.

My objective tonight will be to convince Adam to help me kill Zac. I know his personal goal is to kill him, but he can't do that and protect me at the same time. But together with Gabe's help we might stand a chance if we plan an offensive move instead of always playing defense.

Before I can bring up my list of reasons why he should help me, he says, "Would you be inclined to accompany me to the opera Friday evening?" I freeze mid-sip, and look at him with my eyebrows raised over my cup.

Did he ask me out on a date? I did not see that coming. I'm both thrilled and worried by the possibility.

I don't know which feelings to trust and which to ignore. I have to say I've enjoyed the extra energy and strength, and the heightened senses, but the emotional aspect has been quite cumbersome.

I've come to terms with the realization that I trust Adam with my life. And there is no escaping the physical attraction we seem to share, but I know that neither of those things mean his feelings go any further than a booty-call. I won't trade hot, steamy moments for my heart.

Once Zac is dead or gone, will Adam even be around? There are so many unknowns where he's concerned.

"Are you asking me out on a date, because I want to make sure I'm understanding your intentions?" I ask, watching him closely. My stare never seems to make him nervous. If anything it only seems to encourage him to start pushing my buttons.

"If you need to put a label on it, you may call it a date. I thought you might like to do something...normal," he says, looking at me with a challenge in his blue eyes.

I set my tea down and cross my arms when a wicked idea crosses my mind, and I can't hide a little smile on my lips. I'm not the sort of woman who uses her feminine wiles to get what she wants, but I see a potential opportunity here, and decide to toss it out there anyway.

"If I go with you, will you help me kill Zac?" I give him my most seductive look. I have no idea if it conveys what I'm trying to, but I'm giving it the old college try.

Something must be working because his eyes have that soft glow about them. Either that or I made him angry again.

"Are you actually using sex to manipulate me into doing your bidding?" he asks, leaning forward and looking intrigued.

Oh crap! Maybe I don't know what I'm doing. Damn it!

I need him to help me kill Zac or life as I know it is over. I won't be able to protect the people in my life or myself if Zac lives. There is no other option.

"I never said anything about sex. Let's take it down a few notches, shall we? I asked a simple question. Would you?"

I'm holding my own in this game of Russian roulette. I'm nervous as hell, but trying hard to keep my poker face on.

"Two can play at that game. And remember that you started the game in the first place. I'll help you kill Zachariah if you allow me to escort you to the opera and ask me to bite you," he says, pinning me with his stare.

He did not just go there! My poker face failed.

"What? No! I'm not going to let you tap a vein on me. Do you think I'm crazy?" I sputter with indignation.

"Yes, you sound crazy when you talk about fighting a five-hundred-year-old vampire. I believe we are done with this foolish conversation." He picks up a book I hadn't noticed and proceeds to start reading. I sit there fuming that he turned my game around on me.

Picking up my own novel, I shove my face in it so I don't have to look at him. Unfortunately, I can't concentrate on the words, and end up re-reading the same paragraph three times before tossing it on the coffee table.

Adam glances down at the one I dropped. His eyebrows rise as he looks from the book to me.

I glare at him. "What?" I say, still annoyed.

"Nothing," he says, going back to his ancient-looking book and ignoring me, even though I'm sure he knows I'm still throwing daggers with my eyes.

I start to ponder his proposition. What would it mean if I let him bite me? If he's serious, then we could start making a plan to end Zac. I toss the question out there in case this is a viable option.

"When you say "ask you to bite me," does that mean I have to actually say the words, like "please bite me, Adam," or do you mean let you bite me?" I ask, and my words hang there in the air like floating bricks.

Adam raises his eyes ever so slowly. He can't hide his interest because his tell-tale eyes are glowing that brilliant blue. I can't help but get a little thrill when this happens. It bugs me because I feel like my body has its own agenda where Adam is concerned.

"Yes, like that," he says lowering his book and staring at me intently now. No more fun and games—now it gets serious.

"Can't we agree to do it, and skip the conversation part?" I ask, looking around the condo at anything but him.

"No," he says.

"And we are only talking about you biting me, not sex, correct?" I ask, raising my eyebrows in question.

"Only if you desire it." His eyes are bright blue flames now, and I can feel a hot knot in the pit of my abdomen. His desire is a heady rush, so I try to bring the conversation back to a practical level.

I have the fleeting image of Adam as a wild ferocious animal on a leash that's ready to snap. Remembering what Gabe told me about Adam's control over his bloodlust, I start to wonder if this is a bad idea.

"There's no chance of you getting carried away during that whole process of biting me, is there?" I ask, feeling increasingly nervous.

"You will not be harmed, and I am confident you will enjoy it," he says, watching me closely.

As usual, I get nervous when he becomes too intent on studying me. I feel like I'm deciding to do something dangerous on a dare. Every fiber in me screams caution, yet...Adam has never hurt me.

"Are there any other side effects I should know about?" I ask.

"None that should concern you," he says, leaning forward.

I can almost see the wild animal just beneath the surface of his human mask. I can't believe we are actually discussing him biting me.

"Hmmmmm." What to do? "So are you saying that you will help me kill Zac in exchange for the date and a taste of my blood?" I say, heading for the kitchen to pour a glass of wine.

I'm not planning to get drunk again. This is simply a glass of wine sort of decision. After all, it's not every day I agree to let a vampire bite me.

I turn around with glass and bottle in hand and practically walk into Adam. I squeak like a mouse and then glare at him. "I hate when you do shit like that! It's just creepy," I say, waiting for him to move out of my way.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, staring intently into my eyes.

He's searching for something. Fear, maybe. I don't fear Adam half as much as I fear myself when I'm around him.

Looking up at him defiantly, I say, "It's a deal, but we have to convince Gabe to help, and we start working out details tonight." I'm all business.

I'll file the whole biting thing away until I have to deal with it. That's my life lately. I keep compartmentalizing all these problems and issues so I can deal with them at a later time. It's keeping me sane for now.

"Agreed," he says, and then leans down to my ear. "You'll enjoy it, Samantha," he says in my ear, like a caress.

Shivers run the length of my body, and I almost drop the bottle. He gives me a hint of a smile, and almost—but not quite—moves out of my way. I'm forced to brush his body to get by him. This too makes my legs want to buckle. I return to my seat and pour a healthy dose of wine before taking a long, deep, cleansing breath.

What did I agree to?

"You are not to tell Gabe about our agreement, understood? I don't care if he knows we're going out on Friday," I say.

"Are you afraid to tell your Hunter? Are you concerned he'll reject you if you do this?" he asks with a hint of bitterness, maybe jealousy.

"Gabe is not my Hunter, and he has no claim to me. And neither do you. One date, and one bite does not mean you have any bragging rights, either. Your blood in my veins does not make me yours in any way. I don't care what that means in vampire. Are we clear on all of that?" I ask, holding my wine and crossing my legs.

"Crystal. Now I have some rules of my own. First, I must approve any plan to destroy Zac, as you like to call him. Secondly, you will follow the plan that we devise without deviation. Are we clear on all of that?" he asks before walking to the table.

"Crystal," I say, rolling my eyes at him.