Hot Blooded

could melt
sweet Gwen's ice. If you want to keep everyone's comfortable illusions intact, I
suggest you get Grace into bed. And keep her there until she receives the Gift,
no matter what you have to do."
    Â 
    GRACE pulled up in front of the white two-story Victorian she'd called home
for the past five years. The evening air was cool, but she felt hot and sticky
after wearing her bulletproof vest all night, and her hips ached from the weight
of her equipment belt. All she wanted was to climb into a hot bath and soak for
at least an hour.
    She realized she wasn't going to get her wish when she pushed open the front
door and smelled roasting meat. Something popped. Despite strong suspicions
about the identity of her culinary burglar, Grace drew her weapon as she made
for the kitchen.
    Lance looked up from the glass of champagne he was pouring just as she
pointed her Smith & Wesson between his eyes. He wore only a pair of black slacks
and a robe loosely belted around his narrow waist. A delicious swath of tanned
muscle showed between its velvet lapels.
    "Oh, look," she said, managing a snarl despite the mouthwatering view.
"There's a half-naked vampire in my house. Maybe I'll shoot him."
    He smiled slowly. "I always thought there was something erotic about a woman
with a weapon."
    "If the rest of that kinky little fantasy deals with a riding crop, I don't
want to hear about it." Snorting in disgust, she holstered her gun. She should
have known better than to try to bluff Lancelot du Lac. "How's Mrs. Lacey?"
    "Clean, fed and settling in nicely." He sauntered around the kitchen island
to hand her a glass of the champagne. "I checked on her this evening before I
came here. Galahad had dropped by to visit. She was… glowing."
    "Princely of him." She curled her lip. "Too bad she had to spend all those
years in abject poverty before he deigned to give her any attention."
    "When you've fathered as many children as we have over sixteen hundred years,
it's easy to lose track," he said mildly, picking up his glass.
    "You know, a crack dealer told me the exact same thing the other day. Well,
except for the 'sixteen hundred years' part." Grace took a sip of her own. She
wasn't surprised to discover it was Dom Perignon. The High Court had expensive
tastes. "He was very proud of the fact that he bought shoes for all his kids
once a year." She let an artistic pause develop. "Come to think of it, I guess
that does put him one up on y'all."
    "Touché." Some subtle movement made the tie of his belt slip free. His robe
fell open, revealing more of that breathtaking chest. The ridges of his pecs and
abdomen looked as though God had sculpted them personally. Somewhere inside
Grace, the girl who'd adored her handsome savior ached to run her fingers over
them.
    Damn
, Grace thought.
If I had a dollar for every dream I've had
that started just like this
. Lord Lancelot, bare-chested and bent on
seduction…
    Unfortunately, he was more interested in doing Morgana's dirty work than
making her teenaged dreams come true. She wrapped her fingers tighter around her
glass and took another sip. "Nice six-pack. You'll be very popular in prison.
First-degree burglary carries twenty years in this state."
    His lids lowered lazily over eyes the color of heated sherry. "I can hear
your testimony now—'Judge, he broke into my house and forcibly cooked filet
mignon and artichoke hearts in my kitchen.' The headlines will look a little
strange, don't you think?"
    "Not as strange as the one after you're caught munching on some greasy fellow
convict in the state pen."
    He laughed, the sound more wickedly seductive than another man's nudity. "I'd
never see the inside of a jail, and you know it. The High Court's lawyers would
make O.J.'s dream team look like third-rate public defenders." His eyes
glittered as he moved closer, a corner of that elegant mouth kicking up. "But if
you'd like to handcuff me anyway, be my guest."
    Love to
, a hot little voice whispered as Grace's eyes dropped
helplessly to that marvelous chest again. A thatch of fine dark hair stretched
across it from nipple to nipple before trailing toward his waistband. Her gaze
following the tempting path it drew, Grace swallowed. He had an erection. A
very, very impressive erection. Thick, hard and promising.
    It made her remember just how long it had been since she'd made love. And
just how unsatisfying she'd found it. Lance would see