Melinda paid with a flick of her wrist and a flash of a credit card—not the kind of credit card that a college professor would have. More like the platinum black-and-silver that a vampire with centuries of capital behind her would casually wield. She caught my stare.
“Does it bother you, that I pay for you?" she asked, after the server had taken the check and card away.
I laughed weakly. “I couldn't pay for myself! Not here, anyway. I appreciate it. But…as long as it's all right with you."
“I am very happy to treat you," she smiled, dark and velvety. There was an intimate tremor on the last word, like an unspeakable promise. I felt my heart beat faster. Don't ever think that I do not want you, Miss Brooks, she'd said. I believed her. And I wanted to believe that she was finally opening
