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“It was a bad night,” she started, only for him to interrupt.

“A bad night?” He raised his eyebrows, clearly thinking about the kiss.

“Okay, not all of it was bad, but I think you were right to stop us when you did. I shouldn’t have pounced on you like that. I get a little impulsive when I swim,” she said, feeling her cheeks brighten as he backed her up against the bannisters.

“I’m usually the one doing the pouncing,” he mused, brushing her hair over her shoulder. His fingertips brushed her collarbone, and she couldn’t believe such a whisper of a touch made her weak in the knees.

“Well, I promise not to do it again,” she said, crossing her heart.

“That’s a pity,” he muttered, as she slipped out from between him and the stairs and headed for the kitchen before the tension stopped her heart. She really didn’t want to pounce again, or at least that’s what she told herself.

“Well, since I couldn’t sleep knowing you were out there, I decided to explore the house, and I came across your secret passage behind the shelves, your own little network of tunnels to the sea,” Gideon told her, bringing the bags into the kitchen.

“I can’t take the credit; nature made them and my family built the house on the cliff to utilise them for smuggling back in the day when Indigo Cove was a pirate republic in 1725,” she said. “My great-grandmother also fell in love with the private beach, so my grandfather made sure no one else knew about the tunnels, so she could swim in peace each day.”

“Must be where you got your big heart from,” he said.

“My big heart?” She chuckled, unpacking the bags on the kitchen counter.

“Do I need to remind you that I only saved you by accident? What I really wanted was to auction off your fancy coffin.” She tried to ignore the shiver up her arm as his fingertips brushed hers as he reached into the bag.

He’s teasing me on purpose, she thought as they both glanced at their hands, never moving away.

“Right, but you did put that fish on the old man’s hook this morning?” he countered.

“You saw that?” She bawked.

“I was watching from the shelter of the caves. The more blood I drink, the better my eyesight is getting, and after having your blood, I could sense where you were,” he added, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about him being able to track her.

“The fisherman will never learn if you keep hooking his dinner,” Gideon said, brushing his thumb along hers. He should know better than to irritate a fellow predator.

She wondered if this was how it felt to be on the other end of a siren’s call. When she was away from him, she knew she should stay away, and when she was with him, she wanted to be closer and never leave him again. Intoxicating, he’s so bloody intoxicating.

“The old fisherman is Miranda’s dad from the antique shop. She asked me to look out for him on the water,” she admitted, trying to think less about his touch. “Helping him has become a bit of a habit. Miranda and I didn’t realize that the more I hooked for him, the more he fishes. But I don’t mind, and it’s nice seeing how happy he gets when he thinks his caught something because he only fishes to escape the grief of losing his wife.”

“See, you really do have a big heart underneath all those scales.”

“If I didn’t, I would’ve left your starved butt where I found you.” She smirked.

“You’ve a beautiful smile,” he said seriously.

Instinctively, she covered her fangs with her hand.

“I don’t think beautiful is the right word.” She hadn’t realized she was smiling.

“Don’t do that.” Gideon frowned, gently moving her hand away. “Did you pick up anything for dinner?” he asked.

“Something delicious,” she quipped, and his eyes widened curiously. “A jar of pickled herring.” She beamed, opened the lid, and breathed in the pungent scent.

“This is not what I had in mind,” he said.

“But there is some blood in the other bag for you,” she added.

“Pity, I had a craving for fish.” He sighed, taking the bag of blood from the bag.

“Are you flirting with me?” She caught the glint in his eye and felt the overwhelming desire to push him off the counter. Unfortunately, he hopped off before she had the chance.

“I’d never be so crude in the presence of a lady,” he tutted, “but I am hungry.” She took her jar of herring and followed him out onto the porch so they could enjoy their dinner under the moonlight.