“Great,” Sebastian muttered as he pulled down the grate to the elevator. At this rate, he was going to have to get a doctor for real.
And not for Rhys.
He’d smelled
the feeding
as soon as he’d walked into the kitchen. Rhys had reeked of residual bloodlust, and of Jane.
If Rhys got carried away, things could get dangerous very quickly. Fortunately, Sebastian had been able to sense Jane. And she was fine—a little on the dry side, but nothing that wouldn’t repair itself with some food and rest.
Sebastian lifted the grate and stepped out onto the second floor and the back entrance of the nightclub.
He was just going to have to be more careful about Rhys getting enough blood. If he fed regularly, the bloodlust shouldn’t be an issue. He just had to make sure Rhys was drinking the blood from the blood bank.
He reached the heavy steel door that led into back of the club. But right now, he had to find a Dr. No.
Rhys placed the plate and glass of orange juice on the nightstand,
then
sat down on the edge of Jane’s bed.
She lay against the pillows in exactly the same position as when he left. One small hand rested on her stomach; the other was flung back next to her head. She looked so small, so delicate. And again he was disturbed by the pastiness of her skin.
You can’t do this
, his mind told him.
You don’t deserve her, and she certainly doesn’t deserve what you are doing
.
He closed his eyes, forcing those thoughts from his head. He wasn’t doing anything aside from caring for her. He wanted to protect her, to hold her close to him, to make love to her. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. It was the natural reaction of any normal man toward the woman he would soon marry.
A man.
His brain locked on to that word.
Normal
. He wasn’t norm…
He closed his eyes, willing these strange thoughts away. And when he opened his eyes again, he stared at Jane. Then gently, he brushed his index finger over the curve of her cheek. Her skin still felt cool, but he could detect a little pinkness returning to her lips.
He touched his hand to her brow. She would be okay, and from now on, he’d be more careful.
Less demanding in his lovemaking.
He’d take care of her.
“Jane? Janie, love, wake up.”
She blinked up at him, another smile ready on her lips.
“
Mmm
.”
She stretched, causing the covers to slip away from her, and her robe parted slightly, revealing the inner curve of one of her breasts.
Control,
Rhys’s
mind warned him. He forced his eyes to her face, but her sweet smile and sleepy gaze didn’t lessen the desire budding inside him one iota.
“I…” He frowned, trying to recall what he wanted to tell her. After a deep breath, he managed, “I brought you some food. I think you should try to eat it.”
“I am hungry,” she said, trying to brace her arms under her so she could sit up.
He placed a hand on her arm, stopping her. Then he twisted his body around so his back was against the headboard, and he pulled her up so she was situated between his legs and she could recline with her back against his chest.
He picked up the glass of orange juice. “Here, drink this.”
She lifted her head slightly, placing her hand over his as they both guided the cup to her mouth.
She took several large swallows, before pushing the glass gently away.
He set it aside and reached for the plate. Placing it on her lap, he said, “I hope you like it. It’s something called peanut butter.”
“I love peanut butter,” she said, but she didn’t make a move to pick up the slathered bread.
He tore off a piece of the bread, his arms rubbing against her sides as he did so. Then he raised the
tidbit
to her lips. “Please, you need to eat this.”
She dropped her head back against his chest, and from his taller angle he could see her eyes were closed again.
Panic tore through him. Had she passed out? Was she all right?
“Janie?”
“Why do you call me that?”
His relief was so sharp at hearing her speak that he didn’t even hear her words. “What?”
“Janie. Why do you call me that?”
He frowned. He didn’t even really notice that he did. The nickname just seemed natural to him.
“If you don’t like it—”
“No,” she interrupted him, her eyes still closed, a slight smile curving her lips. “I like it. I just wondered why you called me it.”
He thought for a moment. “Jane doesn’t seem to fit you. It’s too ordinary, too plain.”
Her smile widened, revealing a slight dimple in her right cheek. “That’s me, Plain Jane.”
“No,” he said quickly. “There is absolutely nothing plain about you. You are so lovely and sweet and so, so desirable. How could you ever think otherwise? Especially after the way I lose total control in your arms? Good God, I want to make love to you every time I’m near you.”
Her eyes opened, her gaze locking with his. “I… I hope you continue to feel that way for a while longer.”
“I will feel that way for a bit longer than a while. I hope you are prepared for forever.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers—needing her to believe him. Needing to know she felt the same.
Jane tilted her head back, accepting his wonderful, persuasive kiss.
Forever.
That wouldn’t be long enough to be with this man.
Even as tired as she was, her body began to hum again.
His desire mingled with hers—drawing her need out, around him.
It was as though their yearning was completely linked, tied to each other’s until she couldn’t tell where they ended. They were one. How could a kiss make her feel so encompassed, so possessed?
But that overwhelming possession was as revitalizing as any type of nourishment or any amount of sleep.
Too soon, as seemed to be
Rhys’s
way, he broke off their kiss and told her. “You still need to eat.”
She shook her head. It was truly uncanny how he seemed able to read her thoughts.
But she didn’t question it. Instead, she obediently opened her mouth and allowed him to pop a piece of peanut butter bread inside.
She chewed slowly but didn’t really taste it. Instead she watched as he ripped another piece off the slice and held to her lips. A bit of peanut butter was smeared on his fingers, and as she took the next bite, she flicked her tongue against the pad of his thumb, savoring the sweet, roasted flavor mingled with the taste of his skin.
She couldn’t miss the slight hiss of
Rhys’s
breath near her ear, and his reaction made her feel powerful and so, so aroused.
Rhys continued to feed her, and she continued to eat with relishing brushes of her tongue and her lips against his fingers.
All too soon, the food was gone.
She twisted so she could look up at him. His eyes were hooded and his breathing a little uneven.
“Your color looks much better.” His voice was low and had taken on that husky tone that seemed to stroke over her skin.
“I feel great. Not even tired.” She wiggled against him so her hip rubbed along his groin.
He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a slow, sexy grin. “Is that so?”
She shifted again, and this time felt his penis, rock hard and ready.
Her own breathing hitched. She was insatiable. Then she looked at him.
His gorgeous features, his muscled chest, that sexy smile.
If she was going to be insatiable, this was the man with whom to be it.
She shifted again, but he placed his hands on her hips, stopping her movement.
“Sweetheart, I’d like nothing more than to make love to you. But I think you need more time to rest.”
“I feel great,” she insisted.
“How about this?”
His fingers caressed her waist through the thick terry cloth of her robe. “I’ll get you a little more juice, and if you drink it all, then we’ll talk about making love.”
“Talk about it, huh?”
“Talking can be pretty exciting.” He wagged his eyebrows.
Her heart hopped in her chest. She had no doubt talking about sex with Rhys would be more than exciting. Talking about the weather was pretty darn thrilling with this man.
But she sighed as if she had to think about his offer. Yeah, right. “Okay, I’ll drink the juice.”
He gave her a quick kiss,
then
slid out from behind her.
“Rest.
I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and watched him leave, his back and his tight little derrière just as gorgeous as the rest of him.
She fell back against the mattress and stared at the sheer canopy over her bed, a ridiculously happy smile on her lips.
She knew she should be acting wiser about the whole situation. That she should be preparing herself for the eventuality of Rhys getting his memory back. But right this minute, she couldn’t seem to stay focused on that. In an odd way, they both seemed to be repressing things they didn’t want to think about.
She sighed, not feeling sad precisely. She felt far too good to feel upset. But her happiness was diminished a little.
She rolled over onto her side, moving her hands up to rest them under her cheek. But as she did so, she brushed her breast, and pain prickled her skin. Not sharp pain, but rather an annoying stinging like a paper cut.
She frowned and pushed aside her robe, looking down at the swell of her left breast. At first she didn’t see anything, although the faint stinging continued. Then she noticed the marks. Two spots, deep pink. She almost missed them because they blended with the color of her areola.
But as she studied them closer, there was no denying the marks were there.
She brushed her finger over them, trying to decide what they could be. They looked like puncture wounds—but puncture wounds that were mostly healed.
She couldn’t imagine she would miss an injury like that— especially long enough for them to heal. She inspected the marks a bit more.
Vaguely, she recalled Rhys biting her there last night. But there was no
way that nip
could have created such an abrasion. His bite hadn’t been painful. In fact, it had been amazingly, overwhelmingly erotic.
Plus, even if it had been possible for his bite to create those marks, they would be fresh, not nearly healed as these appeared.
She shrugged and closed her robe, trying to simply dismiss it. But in the back of her mind, she knew something was strange about the marks.
“Very strange,” she repeated out loud. That seemed to be the norm here.
Just then, Rhys stuck his head in the doorway. Gone was the sexy smile. Now his normally full, sculpted lips were compressed into a straight line.
“Sebastian says there is a doctor here.”
Even though Jane knew she should finally be relieved that Sebastian had gotten the doctor here, apprehension filled her chest.
She forced a smile. “Good. I’ll get dressed.”
Rhys nodded and hesitated as though he wanted to say something else. Then he nodded again. “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
She watched as he closed the door, and still she remained on the bed. Suddenly she wished Sebastian hadn’t gotten the doctor to come. After this evening, she wanted just a few more perfect days with Rhys.
She knew he was
centurially
challenged. She knew he couldn’t continue on that way, but a few more days, that couldn’t hurt.
Her conscience warred with what she wanted and what she knew was right. But she desperately wanted to keep feeling all the things Rhys made her feel—attractive, exciting and so cared for. Those sensations were too novel, too wonderful, to lose just yet.
No, she couldn’t be selfish. Rhys needed help. And she couldn’t stand in the way of that.
She rummaged through her suitcase, finding a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. She tugged them on,
then
rushed to be with Rhys. She wanted to be there to see how he was going to react when he realized that the doctor was there to see him.
Somehow, she didn’t think he’d respond well. He’d gone to great lengths to forget something, and she didn’t think he’d want anyone to force him to remember. She just hoped he’d be okay when he did.
When she reached the living room, Rhys was waiting by himself. “Where are Sebastian and the doctor?”
He gestured toward the library. “Sebastian is waiting with him in there.”
She nodded, but neither of them moved. Then Jane realized he was waiting for her to go first. After all, he believed the doctor was here to see her.
She gave him a smile that she knew didn’t hide her nervousness, and she went to the library door. She cast one more glance at him. He smiled back, his amber eyes filled with warmth.
She prayed that when this was all done, he’d still look at her that way.