Mercy's Debt (Montgomery's Vampires Series Book One) by Sloan Archer

satisfaction that Robert’s hand hovered considerately above my lower back.
    “Well, I guess since eating is out, we could go somewhere and talk,” I suggested.
    “You want to talk? To me ?” He was dumbfounded. “Why?”
    Well, Robert, because you’re the first man in a very long time that has awakened the butterflies in my stomach. Because your exquisiteness is making it extremely difficult for me to keep my thoughts straight and my underwear dry, and I will undeniably use images of your lovely face and rock-hard body as fodder for masturbation as I toss in bed later tonight obsessing over you. Because I’ve never met anyone so charmingly enigmatic, and something about you is pulling me in. Because I somehow know that you’re a funny, decent man under that cool exterior, even though I know that it’s ridiculous to be certain of such a thing after only knowing you for a few hours. Because I want to be next to you, and I want for you to want me, despite the fact that you’re capable of killing me with a single bite.
    “I don’t know,” I said sensibly. “Because… you seem interesting.”
    “ Oh. Okay, where would you like to go?”
    “Hmm, let me have a think. It’s after ten, so I’ m guessing that Starbucks is out- not that you’d want a coffee anyway,” I said bashfully. “You have any ideas?”
    “ I am at a loss,” he admitted. “Like I mentioned before, I have not been alone in the company of a human female in quite some time, especially one so beautiful.”  He cleared his throat. “Of course, I have been out with other Dignitary chaperones, but I have most certainly never left early with any of them to have a talk .”
    Did he just call me beautiful?
    “If you just want to call it a night, I’ll understand,” I said, giving him a way out. It would have crushed my spirit if it was the case, but I didn’t want the man to feel obligated to spend the evening with me. While I may have been lonely, I wasn’t going to stoop as low as to guilt a vampire into hanging out with me.
    “No, of course not,” he said hastily. “I find your company rather pleasurable. I just do not want to suggest a venue you may not enjoy. What do humans your age do for fun? Nightclubs?”
    I crinkled my nose. “ Some do, but I don’t really enjoy them. Does that make me boring?” I asked self-consciously.
    He put his hand over his chest in a gesture of relief. “I am pleased to hear you say that. I find nightclubs to be horrible affairs. And, no, Mercy, I do not consider you boring. I doubt any man ever would.”
    He dropped his hand from his chest and repositioned it over mine. I nearly let out a whimper when he abruptly jerked it away seconds later, obviously concerned that he’d overstepped some boundary. The butterflies left my stomach, fluttered up to my breast, and flapped their wings rapidly over my heart.
    “I ca n think of one place,” I began. My voice cracked, and so I swallowed hard and tried again. “The place is called Whistle Stop. It’s just a little hole-in-the-wall diner a few blocks away, but it’s quiet, comfortable, and open all night. The atmosphere kind of reminds me of my hometown in Florida. The waitresses are a bit rude, though the place does have its charm. The restaurant is part of an old steam train. The booths are positioned where the passenger seats used to be. ”
    He was astonished. “A diner?”
    “Of course, if you’re sickened by the smell of food, or if you hate the idea, or if it’s not fancy enough…” He was right- a diner ? What the hell was I thinking? This was a man accustomed to the very best in life, not yokel greasy spoon steak and eggs.
    “ A diner sounds perfect, Mercy. I probably have not been to one in over fifty years, and never one located in a train that was not moving. This will be a treat for me.”
    He waited quietly while I gave Carl directions.
    “ I was just surprised by your choice, that is all,” he stated.
    “Why?” I asked,