Vacation with a Vampire & Other Immortals by Maureen Child, MAGGIE SHAYNE

perfect, blissful night with him. In the meantime she decided to kill time as best she could. She started with a glorious hot shower, lavishing herself with the best-smelling soaps in his overstocked bathroom.
    She got creative then, bundling her hair up on top of her head but leaving it loose enough that curling tendrils spilled around her like a crown of spiral silk. She made a sarong from a nearly sheer silk throw, in a French vanilla cream color that she thought was the height of romance. She searched the house for candles, lined his bedroom with them, and set a lighter nearby. And then, with around half an hour to go, she realized she was half-starved, so she filled her belly with fruits from the island, downed a glass of icy cold water, brushed her teeth and returned to the bedroom.
    She lit all the candles, and then she tried to strike an alluring pose near one of them as she waited for him to rouse.
    Minutes ticked by. And then more minutes. She began to fear he might really be dead, after all.
    But finally his nose twitched. And then it wrinkled.
    Suddenly he sat up fast, eyes flying wide, and shouted, “Fire!”
    “No!” She hurried to the bed and put her hands on his shoulders. “No, Diego, it’s just candles. There’s no fire.”
    He scanned the room, wild-eyed, and bounded from the bed without even looking at her, then stood there staring at the tiny flames that surrounded him. And then, finally, his gaze found hers and a little of the wildness faded.
    She smiled, relieved. “Thank God,” she said, sliding from the bed. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to wake up or not. I mean, when you sleep, it’s as though—but then the cut, it healed, and so… Oh, I’m just so glad you’re alive, Diego. So glad.” She moved closer to him as she spoke, and by the end she was sliding her hands up over his shoulders and resting her head on his chest.
    He put his hands on her shoulders, as well, but didn’t wrap his arms around her as she had expected him to do. He seemed tentative. Probably just hadn’t caught up with himself yet. When you slept that deeply, you must wake up a little disoriented, right? He needed to process everything, to remember the night before, to—
    “I need you to put the candles out, Anna. I’d do it myself, but I could easily go up in flames without a snuffer, so…”
    “Go up in flames?” She lifted her head, because he didn’t sound confused or disoriented.
    “After last night, I suppose there’s no longer any question in your mind about what I am.”
    She smiled shyly, lowering her eyes even as she lifted her palm to press it to the marks on her neck. But then she frowned. “They’re gone,” she whispered, her eyes flying to his.
    “They heal at the first touch of sunlight.”
    “Oh. Just like your injuries do.”
    “Mine heal during the day sleep. The touch of sunlight would be a whole different problem for me.”
    “I see. And fire?”
    “My kind are highly flammable. I only keep a supply of candles on hand in case my power sources fail and light is needed.”
    “I didn’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry…about the candles.” She quickly went around the room, blowing them out one by one until they stood in total darkness, the scent of smoldering wicks and hot wax too much to bear.
    He opened the bedroom door. “Have you eaten?” he asked.
    “Yes, I…I’m fine. Full. Thank you.”
    “Good. The journey will only take about four hours. Giving me ample time to get back before sunrise, but only if we leave within the next—”
    “Journey?”
    He stopped at the foot of the stairs, turning to look up at her. “Back to the mainland. Did you forget I was taking you back tonight?”
    She blinked rapidly, her heart taking the blow that felt like a blade straight through it. Her throat constricted, and though she opened her mouth to reply, she couldn’t force out a sound.
    “Why don’t you…” His eyes moved down her makeshift outfit, that had felt like a