Again he said nothing.

    “I was talking to Rosalie last night. . . .”
    His body tensed again. “Yes. She was thinking about that when I got in. She gave you quite a lot to
consider, didn’t she?”
    His voice was anxious, and I realized that he thought I wanted to talk about the reasons Rosalie’d given
me for staying human. But I was interested in something much more pressing.
    “She told me a little bit . . . about the time your family lived in Denali.”
    There was a short pause; this beginning took him by surprise. “Yes?”
    “She mentioned something about a bunch of female vampires . . . and you.”
    He didn’t answer, though I waited for a long moment.

    “Don’t worry,” I said, after the silence had grown uncomfortable. “She told me you didn’t . . . show any
preference. But I was just wondering, you know, if any of them had. Shown a preference for you, I mean.”
    Again he said nothing.
    “Which one?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, and not quite managing. “Or was there more than
one?”
    No answer. I wished I could see his face, so I could try to guess what this silence meant.
    “Alice will tell me,” I said. “I’ll go ask her right now.”
    His arms tightened; I was unable to squirm even an inch away.
    “It’s late,” he said. His voice had a little edge to it that was something new. Sort of nervous, maybe a little
embarrassed. “Besides, I think Alice stepped out. . . .”
    “It’s bad,” I guessed. “It’s really bad, isn’t it?” I started to panic, my heart accelerating as I imagined the
gorgeous immortal rival I’d never realized I had.
    “Calm down, Bella,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “You’re being absurd.”
    “Am I? Then why won’t you tell me?”
    “Because there’s nothing to tell. You’re blowing this wildly out of proportion.”
    “Which one?” I insisted.
    He sighed. “Tanya expressed a little interest. I let her know, in a very courteous, gentlemanly fashion, that
I did not return that interest. End of story.”
    I kept my voice as even as possible. “Tell me something — what does Tanya look like?”
    “Just like the rest of us — white skin, gold eyes,” he answered too quickly.
    “And, of course, extraordinarily beautiful.”
    I felt him shrug.
    “I suppose, to human eyes,” he said, indifferent. “You know what, though?”
    “What?” My voice was petulant.
    He put his lips right to my ear; his cold breath tickled. “I prefer brunettes.”
    “She’s a blonde. That figures.”