I prop my chin in my palm and tap my fingernails on the tabletop. Couples and small groups at the other tables along the beach are already being served. It's beautiful the way the event coordinators have set everything up—white linen tablecloths sway in the sea breeze, candles in crystal jars illuminate the fine dinnerware in a buttery glow, a perfect setup for a romantic evening, and not a solo meal. But that seems to be my fate tonight.

I side-eye the path lined with white lanterns that leads from the manor to the shore. My heart aches like someone has a chokehold on it. I like to think of myself as resilient. After all, I did recover well after last night's wardrobe blunder. But I've turned away three people from sitting at my table, telling them the two seats were already spoken for. This might be the mortification that sends me to my room and keeps me there the rest of the summer.

The server walks past my table for a third time, eyeing my empty glass and plate. Needing to take the edge off, I hold out my wine glass and say, "If you could fill it to the brim, I'd appreciate it."

They don't hesitate to meet my request, bringing the golden liquid just short of overflowing. I whisper thank you, and down half the glass after they walk away. I can't believe Lorelai talked me into having dinner with her and Elias, and then stood me up. It seems so counterproductive when the purpose of this entire summer is to mingle.

Air rattles my lips as I accept my bad luck and focus on the water to ease the sting of it.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I've spent the last twenty minutes waiting for Lorelai, but she failed to tell me that she made last-minute plans with another attendee."

I lift my gaze to Elias as he removes his blazer, draping it over the back of his chair before easing his tall frame down. His fingers work the buttons at his wrists before he rolls his sleeves to his elbows. I'm hypnotized by the last rays of the sun reflecting off his dark hair as it dances around his face. He is such a sharp contrast to our tranquil environment, like sin searching to corrupt the innocent.

He glances up at me through his thick lashes and says, "Is it all right that I still have dinner with you tonight or would you prefer I leave?"

I snap out of my stupor and shake my head, tripping over my words as I blurt, "N-no, please, don't be silly. I'd love it if you stayed."

Damn, Cora. You didn't have to go that far. You'd love it if he stayed? Why don't you just go on and tell him how sexy you think he is while you're at it?

"I mean, I—I've been sitting here waiting for y'all for what feels like eternity. Dinner sounds good, and you're here, so you may as well stay," I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but it's clear I'm just attempting to save face and not look like a desperate woman wanting company.

Elias lifts his hand to eye level and gives the server a nod. Not a single word spoken, and the woman is off to do his bidding. It would appear I'm not the only one who is fascinated with this man.

"I apologize for Lorelai. She tends to be easily distracted, and therefore forgetful of prior obligations."

"It's all right. We are here on a single's retreat, right? What did she do, find a worthy partner to spend the evening with?" Raising my eyebrows suggestively, I take a sip from my goblet.

"Worthy? Horny? I don't think there is much of a difference for her. She has a sexual appetite that I don't think one single person can sedate. I doubt she will ever find 'the one.'"

Those are bold words for a man who claims to be her best friend. But I don't think he means them with malice. In fact, they sound very factual. There is nothing wrong with a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. Elias doesn't seem to have a problem with that either.

"Well, good for her. I hope she's hooking up with the hottest guy here—" I pause and look him up and down, but before I can let the alcohol I've been drinking loosen my lips any more than it already has, I change gears and add, "Or girl? She and I haven't really discussed anything of a personal nature."

"She prefers women. In fact, if she hadn't convinced herself that I'm pursuing you, I think she would."

My cheeks flush. I'm flattered that a beautiful woman like Lorelai would think of me that way, but I'm also transported back to the conversation she and I had on the beach earlier today. About Elias being intrigued by me, whatever that means. She's had that conversation with him too? I'm just going to go dig a hole in the sand and bury myself in it.

"She's talked to you about that too?" I ask, brushing my hair out of my face and scratching the back of my neck.

Elias opens his mouth to respond but quickly clamps it shut when the server returns with two dishes covered in silver domes. She places them on the table and removes the tops to reveal creamy pasta topped with filet mignon. Our glasses are refilled with wine, and we both cut into our meals. Neither of us say a word, the clinking of our silverware the only exchange between us. If it weren't for the food practically throwing me into orgasmic bliss, I'd be uncomfortable with the silence.

"This is so good," I groan, sitting my fork down and propping my chin in the palm of my hand. "I was so hungry."

Elias glances up at me and something about his gaze is dark as his eyes sweep over me. "Do you normally moan over your food like that?" he asks in a low voice, leaning forward a bit and taking another sip of his red wine.

My cheeks will be permanently stained with blush after tonight. "I—" I glance down at his goblet and narrow my eyes. "Hey, Mr. White-Wine-Goes-Better-with-the-Chicken...what happened to your wine expertise? Don't you know red wine pairs terribly with alfredo sauce? Even I know that."

"I like what I like," he says before taking a sip. "Now that you've had time to sleep on it, do you really think someone was in your room last night?"

Maybe I should blow it off as nothing. Whoever I thought I saw in my room last night didn't harm me, but they sure as shit scared me. I can't deny that. "It seemed ridiculous in the daylight, but I've thought about it a lot today. I'm positive someone was watching me."

He hums as he sits back in his chair and nurses his wine. The casualness he displays doesn't sit well with me. How can anyone not be unnerved knowing that a stalker is roaming our rooms at night. Unless...

"It wasn't you in my room, was it? You did just happen to run into me in the cemetery. That's kind of strange if you ask me."

It's official. The wine has effectively destroyed my filter.

One side of Elias' lips quirk up. It is a panty melting kind of expression that has me clenching my thighs together.

"Trust me when I say, I have better things to do with my time than watch you sleep. I'm not some immortal, teenage vampire who sparkles in the sunlight."

"Hey, leave Edward Cullen out of this. He would never creep me out like that and make me run off without my inhaler," I say, slapping my palm over my chest and feigning outrage. "Not to mention you're much better-looking."

Closing my eyes and biting the inside of my cheek, I suppress a groan. My lack of filter is going to get me in trouble tonight. But Elias doesn't seem bothered by my loose lips. In fact, he laughs, the deep sound turning my insides to warm honey.

He motions the server to take our empty plates. Once our table is cleared, he stands and holds his hand out to me. "Come, walk with me, Miss Ashling."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're not taking me back to the cemetery, are you?"

"Absolutely not."

"All right then," I say, getting to my feet and pretending that my heart isn't about to beat out of my chest as I take his hand. When his fingers close around mine, I gasp and my eyes snap to his. "Zeus's beard! Your hand is cold!"

"It's a bit chilly out tonight," he says as he leads me away from the others.

We walk down the shoreline until the outside dining area is nothing more than flickering specks behind us. Being away from the group has me a bit worried. I wouldn't say that I'm a normally a skeptic, but after the trauma I've emotionally gone through in the past twenty-four hours, I am a little wary of trusting anyone.

Thankfully, we stay in the open, giving me a clear path to run if I must. Not that I'm completely against the man beside me making a move. It would be nice to get lost in a kiss or savor the touch of someone else's hand on my skin.

"I have a proposition for you that I think will benefit us both," he says, slowing our steps.

I nearly jump out of my skin; was he somehow reading my mind just now? "A proposition? And what would that be?"

"Before I make my offer, I need to know something. Do you have any clue what you have gotten yourself into here?"

My gaze darts around the path and I look up at him playfully. "Well, I don't know...now you're making me think I don't. Tell me, Mr. Dagon. What have I gotten myself into?"

He steps in front of me, blocking my path and folds his arms. His brown eyes appear almost black as he peers down at me. "It's not that simple. I can't tell you much of anything; to do so would put everyone here at risk. But if you were to figure it out on your own..."

He's not kidding. I tilt my head and chew on my bottom lip. "I don't understand, Elias. You're freaking me out a little bit," I say, taking one step back. But he just moves closer, and my heart hammers harder in my chest.

Then something strange happens. As my heart rate starts to increase, Elias's dark gaze snaps to the pulse point in my neck, the one I can feel pumping in time with my heart. I swallow and my breath catches in my throat. When I meet his stare, it's fixed on me, and now I know I'm not imagining it; his eyes are black, and it's not just that his pupils are blown all the way out. Gone is the beautiful mahogany of his irises, replaced by bottomless ebony.

I think back to all the red wine he's been drinking, and all the times he's told me to get white instead.

"No. No way," I whisper.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Cordelia?" he asks again, slow and precise.

I just shake my head and back away from him. "No. Just—we can forget this conversation happened, okay? I need—I need to get back to my room. This shit isn't real. I don't—"

He grasps my upper arm with such care that I almost don't feel his fingers, but his hold keeps me from walking away. "You need me, Cordelia, and I need your help as well. I don't know who gave you access to this island, but it isn't safe for you. Deep inside you, that nagging voice of preservation has been screaming at you to return home the minute you stepped foot on this sand."

He's right. Something is weird about this place, but I don't know what it is. Or do I? My mother is the one who gave me access to this island; my mother, the paranormal—

"This is an island for a paranormal singles' adventure. Just not the kind my mother anticipated," I murmur. "And you...I don't know about everyone else here, but you...you're a—" I don't know why this is so hard for me to say. Probably because this is only supposed to happen in romance novels and horror movies. "The joke we just made at the table. It's not a joke, is it? You're a vampire, aren't you?"

He gives a curt nod. "I'm offering you my protection until we can leave the island. All I'm asking in return is that you help me keep my best friend off my back by pretending that you and I have made a match. This is a win for both of us." He holds out his hand. "Do we have a deal, Cordelia?"