"Why is Kade staying rather than you or Quinn?" I asked, surprised.

"Because Kade was here for over two months, and knows this place better than any of us."

Which sounded perfectly logical, but I wasn't believing it. Jack had plans for Kade, that much was obvious. "So where is this Directorate safe house? And has it got a bath big enough for a werewolf to laze in?"

He grinned. "It's a penthouse suite in a hotel right on the shores of Brighton beach. I think it's safe to presume it has a decent size bath."

A smile tugged my lips. "Well, I guess if we're going to be locked up, we might as well do so in style."

"Exactly. You okay to stand?"

I nodded, and he helped me to my feet. I wobbled a little, and was glad of his support those first few seconds. "I'm fine," I said, when I was.

He released me. "I'll just go see Jack, then we can leave."

I nodded and leaned back against the concrete wall. The coldness crept through my sweater, and felt so good against my overwarmed skin.

Once he'd left, I looked at Quinn. "You have some explaining to do."

He shrugged. "There's nothing sinister in what happened. You were in great pain, and your psychic shields were low. I simply slipped past them."

"That time I was shot with the silver bullet, you said you could read no more than surface thoughts. This time it was more than that."

He studied me for a second, dark eyes glinting dangerously in the night. "What did you want me to do? Stand back and watch you suffer needlessly?"

"You lied to me." Again.

"Only a little."

I crossed my arms. "I've got a feeling your version of little and mine are two entirely different things."

"It's only when you're in pain that your shields are lowered enough for me to enter uninvited. In some respects, your mind is almost as untouchable as your brother's."

I didn't believe him. "So you're saying it's only when I'm sick or injured that you can rifle through my thoughts?"

He hesitated. "Yes."

"Liar. When else?"

He looked away. "In times of passion. If I chose to, I could enter then."

Anger curled through me. "And have you?"

"No."

I only had his word on that, and right now, I wasn't up to trusting his word. "Well, thanks for pulling me out of that mess of memories, but if you ever pry into my mind without invitation again, I'll—" I stopped. What could I threaten a vampire with? Especially one as old as Quinn apparently was?

"Fine." His voice was flat. Cold. "Next time, I'll let you find your own way out."

"Good."

Silence fell between us. A silence that was tense and unbreathable. But I wasn't entirely unhappy about it, because it gave me an excuse to ignore my hormones, and keep him at arm's length that much longer.

Still, I stared up at the cloud-filled night sky, and hoped like hell my brother hurried back. Naturally, he didn't, and the silence itched at my skin until I felt ready to scream in frustration.

When he finally did get back, he hooked his arm through mine and began guiding me away from the building. "Let's get going. You look beat."

"That's because I am." I yawned hugely, then added, "How are we getting to this place?"

"There's a helicopter waiting. It'll take us to the Directorate's jet, which is being prepped as we speak."

"Good. I need sleep."

"You can once we reach the plane."

Which I most certainly did. And when we reached the hotel, I slept some more. Only I didn't just sleep, I dreamed. And while this dream was new, it was similar to many I'd had since Quinn had walked away from me in Talon's lair.

Well, I think they were just dreams, though they felt pretty damn real.

I was in a shower. Water sprayed against my skin, the needle-sharp jets soothing and yet exhilarating. Or was it the warmth of another body so close, the scent of sandal-wood and man, that had my pulse racing?

Hands touched me, turned me, then lips came down on mine, lips that were warm and familiar and oh so wonderful. We kissed, long and hard, as the water drummed our skins, skimming our bodies, tickling and teasing.

Then he turned me, so that my back was against the hard heat of his body, his erection nudging my butt as he reached for the soap and began washing my breasts and belly. The scent of lavender touched the air, filling every breath, and it seemed so real, as real as the hands that were washing me so lovingly.

And oh, it felt good.

But being caught between the heat of his body, the drum of the water, and the caress of his hands was nothing short of tortuous, and I was pretty much steaming in an instant.

When I could stand it no more, I grabbed the soap from him and turned around. His beautiful body gleamed like sculptured pale-gold marble in the half-light of the bathroom, the water reverently caressing every muscle, every curve. I followed the water's lead, soaping every marvelous inch, until he was quivering as badly as I.

He took the soap and put it back in the holder, then twined his hands in mine, raising them above my head as he pressed me back against the wet, cool tiles. The heat of him flowed around me, through me, burning my skin and contrasting sharply with the coolness seeping from the tiles.

His gaze met mine, the obsidian depths gleaming with lust and determination. "You are mine, Riley," he said softly, as he nudged my legs wider with one knee. "And I have every intention of loving you so completely—in every single way possible—that you will have no desire to turn to anyone else but me."

"That won't ever happen."

But it came out little more than a pant of air as he slid into me, filling me, liquefying me. His thick groan of pleasure was a sound I echoed. Then he began to move, and there was nothing gentle about it. His body and movements were urgent, fierce, and so very wonderful. The rich ache grew, becoming a kaleidoscope of sensations that washed through every corner of my mind. Then the shuddering took hold and I gasped, grabbing his shoulders, clambering up his body to wrap my lees around his waist and push him deeper still. Pleasure exploded between us and my orgasm ripped through my body, shuddered through my soul.

I woke, still shaking in the aftermath of that orgasm, Quinn's name dying on my lips.

For several seconds I simply lay there, staring almost blindly up at the ceiling.

God, it had felt so real. My skin still tingled from the drumming of the water, and the scent of lavender seemed to hang in the air. Not to mention the fact I felt well and truly sated.

Where the hell had dreams like that been during the few brief dry spells in my love life?

I stretched like a contented cat, then looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly noon. I'd barely slept six hours, which was surprising. It felt like I'd slept twenty.

I rose up on my elbows. I couldn't actually remember how I'd gotten into bed last night but given the trail of clothes from the doorway, I'd obviously walked and stripped at the same time.

The room itself was huge. Directly in front was a curved wall of glass. Sunlight flooded in, lending the sand-colored walls an extra richness. The carpet was thick, and sea blue in color, as were the two well-stuffed sofas. To the left was a door that led into a tiled area, and what looked like the biggest damn shower ever made—though it wasn't the shower from my dream. But this one had obviously been designed with a party in mind, and I was definitely going to try it out.

Of course, my hormones were all for trying it out with a friend, but who that friend would be was the million dollar question. Common sense said Kade, but after the dream, my hormones were all for sampling a real bit of wet vampire loving.

Which probably meant I'd do neither. It was certainly the saner, if less fun, option right now.