Zane shifted even further away from her, and his chains rattled. It was another stark reminder of their doomed circumstances. "Why would you help me?"

"Because I—" She peered down at her hands. Her fingers were twined together and twisting the leather of her skirt. They wanted to be on Zane's body, learning his every nuance. What would make him gasp in pleasure? What would make him moan? "I owe you. I hurt you, and I'm sorry for that. Sorrier than I can ever express. I want—"

"Enough," he growled, cutting her off. "I don't want your apology. I never did. I've always wanted you…your body."

Need trembled through her. "Yes." Yes. That's what she wanted, too. "But you can't touch me. How…"

"We will figure it out. Climb on top of me."

She did, straddling his waist. His eyes closed, and he arched up. She imagined his hard shaft rubbing against her and moaned. "Zane, I—"

The entrance to the tent flapped, and Amelia strode inside. "Well, vampire. I have decided—" Her eyes widened, and she stopped. "Nola? What are you doing here?"

Nola jumped up as though burned. She wanted to scream in frustration, but held her tongue. One question had been answered, at least. Others could see her. "Hello, Amelia." Did she sound as breathless to the warrioress as she did to herself?

"We thought you were dead."

"You thought wrong."

Amelia's dark gaze swung to Zane, then back to Nola. "Either way, you will move away from my slave."

"Nola," Zane said, and there was a warning in his tone.

A warning of what? Nola didn't face him, but squared her shoulders and forced her expression to harden. "How is he truly your slave when you have not yet battled every female who would lay claim to him? Amelia, I challenge you for the vampire."