“Still don’t speak Italian, Gio.”

His hooded eyes raked over her breasts with sleepy languor as he whispered something else she couldn’t understand. She could feel her face heating up, and decided from the tone of his voice, it was probably a good thing she didn’t speak Italian.

Probably.

He began to reach for her, so she decided a drastic subject change was in order.

“How you do kill an immortal?”

Giovanni was obviously taken aback but looked surprised, not offended. He stretched again and sat up, crossing his arms on his chest as he leaned against the headboard of the sturdy bed in his room at Carwyn’s house.

“Good evening to you, too. And how to kill an immortal?” he mused. “Well, that’s obviously the wrong word, isn’t it? Immortal.”

Her heart faltered for a moment as she thought of Ioan. “You know what I mean.”

“We like to call ourselves immortals.” He reached over and played with a lock of her hair that had come out of her ponytail. “Makes the more civilized of us feel a bit better about feeding from human beings. Which we aren’t anymore, but we once were. Makes us slightly less barbaric in our own eyes.”

She leaned against his shoulder and let her cheek rest against his bare arm.

“You’re not barbaric, Jacopo,” she said. “You’re one of the kindest men I know.”

His skin automatically heated against her cheek. “Why do you call me by my human name?” he asked softly.

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“No, I…it is comforting to hear it again.”

His hand came to rest on her left arm, and his fingertips traced gentle circles along the inside of her wrist.

“Am I the only one who calls you Jacopo?”

“You’re the only one who knows my name.”

Beatrice closed her eyes and gave in to the comfort of his warm hands. The low hum that always accompanied the touch of his skin on hers soothed her. As she sat in bed, enjoying the feel of him, she realized if she was robbed her sight, her hearing—of every sense she had—but could only feel his touch, she would recognize him by that alone.

She sighed and smiled, closing her eyes as she relaxed into him.

“‘Tu sei tutta bella, amica mia, e non v’è difetto alcuno in te,’” he murmured.

“Hmm?” She roused herself from drifting. “What does that mean?”

He tucked her head under his chin. “It means you’re beautiful.”

She smiled and turned her face to press her cheek to his chest.

“Do you dream? I’ve always wondered that.”

She heard him let out a soft chuckle. “I do sometimes. Not often though.”

“What do you dream about?”

He hummed a little, still sounding sleepy as he played with the ends of her hair. “The past. The future. You.”

She had no idea how to respond to that. I dream about you a lot, too. Have for years. You’re usually naked.

“So.” She cleared her throat a little. “I’ve been reading Ioan’s book about vampire biology. I remember you said he was a doctor. It’s fascinating.” Speaking of naked, did you pose for some of those diagrams? I’m pretty sure I recognize your abs.

He reached his left arm around to the table where she had set the manuscript.

“Ah, I remember helping him with this one. Deirdre did some of the sketches. Excellent resource.”

“I’m sure you get tired of answering all my questions, so I thought I’d just take advantage of the library since we have a few days here.”

He smiled. “I don’t get tired of answering because you ask good questions. So feel free to take advantage of me any time you like.”

She swatted his arm playfully. “Haha.”

He only chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “What a good little librarian you are, tesoro.”

“Don’t be patronizing.”

“I’m not. Just teasing you a bit. So, what have you learned, Miss De Novo?”

“That you aren’t immortal, but you are very hard to kill.”

Giovanni nodded. “Yes we are. Fire and losing our head are the only ways I’ve ever heard of.”

“Really? Definitely no wooden stakes, huh?”

He shook his head. “No, though that would take a long time to heal if anyone tried.”

“Unless you’re surrounded by your element, right? Like when you burned Lorenzo and he dove in the water, he knew he would heal faster that way.”

“Yes, though burns still take years to heal completely, unless you’re a fire vampire. But if Carwyn was injured, he could heal very quickly if he went to ground.”

“So Tenzin—”

“Is practically impervious to serious injury unless she’s buried or drowned.”

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ is a common reaction, yes.”

“And you?”

He shrugged. “Fire feeds me; fire destroys me. It’s a very fine line.”

“So, if you allow yourself to…what do you call it?”

Giovanni chuckled. “Flame up? Manifest fire? Get sparky, as Carwyn likes to say?”

Beatrice quirked her mouth in a wry smile. “Yeah, that.”

He stretched an arm against the headboard. “I’m not going to lie, tesoro, when I allow the fire to take over my body, it feels…heady. It’s intoxicating, and it could be very addictive. It does feed something in me and it does help me heal, but at the same time, it’s very, very dangerous.”