"I guess that's why Jane disappeared a year ago, huh," he said.
"You do not appear shocked."
"I knew there was something big doing." He shrugged. "I've seen your MRI. I've been inside of you."
For some reason, that phraseology heated her up. "Yes. You have."
"You're just similar enough, though. Your spine was not so different that I didn't know what I was doing. We were lucky."
For truth, she did not share that opinion: After years of caring naught for males, she felt a mystical pull toward this one, and it was the sort of thing she would have liked to explore had they not been where they were.
But as she had learned long ago, fate was rarely concerned with what she wanted.
"So," he pronounced, "you're going to handle me, right? You're going to make this whole thing go away." He waved his arm in a vague manner. "I won't recall this at all. Just like when your brother came through here a year ago."
"You shall perhaps have dreams. Nothing more."
"Is that how your kind have stayed hidden."
"Yes."
He nodded and glanced around. "You going to do it now?"
She wanted more time with him, but there was no reason for him to see her feed from Wrath. "Soon enough."
He glanced back at the door and then looked her straight in the eye. "Will you do me a favor."
"But of course. It would be a pleasure to serve you."
One of his brows flicked and she could have sworn his body threw off more of that delicious scent of his. But then he became utterly grave. "Tell Jane ... I get it. I understand why she did what she did."
"She is in love with my brother."
"Yeah, I saw it. Back ... wherever we were. Tell her it's cool. Between her and me. After all, you can't help who you fall for."
Yes, Payne thought. Yes, that was so very true.
"You've been in love?" he asked.
As humans did not read minds, she realized she'd spoken out loud. "Ah ... no. I ... no. I have not."
Although even this short time with her healer was informing. He fascinated her, from the way he moved to how he filled out his white coat and blue dressings, to the scent of him and his voice.
"Are you mated?" she asked, fearing his answer.
He laughed in a hard burst. "Hell, no."
Her breath left her on a relieved sigh, even as it was strange to think that his status mattered as much as it did. And then there was nothing but silence.
Oh, the passing of time. How regrettable it was. And what should she say to him in these final minutes they had left? "Thank you. For caring for me."
"My pleasure. I hope you recover well." He stared at her as if trying to memorize her, and she wanted to tell him to stop trying. "I'm always here for you, okay? If you need me to help you ... come and find me." Her healer took out a small, stiff card and wrote something on it. "That's my cell. Call me."
He reached forward and slipped the thing into the weak hand that rested o'er her heart. As she gripped what he'd given her, she thought of all the repercussions. And implications.
And complications.
With a grunt, she tried to shift herself around.
The healer was instantly on his feet. "You need repositioning?"
"My hair."
"Is it pulling?"
"No ... please unbraid my hair."
Manny froze and just stared down into his patient's face. For some reason, the idea of unraveling that thick rope seemed pretty god-damned close to getting her naked, and what do you know, his sex drive was all over it.
Jesus ... he had a frickin' hard-on. Right under his surgical scrubs.
See, he thought, this was the unpredictable law of attraction at work, right here, right now: Candace Hanson offered to blow him and he'd been about as interested as he was in wearing a dress. But this ... female? woman? ... asked him to unveil her hair and he was all but panting.
Vampire.
In his head, he heard the word spoken in her voice with her accent ... and the thing that shocked him most was his lack of reaction to the news flash. Yeah, if he considered the implications his motherboard started to spark and fizzle: Fangs are not just for Halloween and horror flicks anymore?
And yet the freaky thing was the unfreaky.
That and this sexual-attraction thing he had going on.
"My hair?" she said.
"Yeah ..." he whispered. "I'll take care of it."
His hands did not tremble ever so slightly. Nope. They did not.
They shook like a motherfucker.
The end of the braid was tied with a length of the softest fabric he'd ever felt. It wasn't cotton; it wasn't silk.... It was something he'd never seen before, and his keen surgeon's fingers seemed sloppy and too rough on the stuff as he worked at the winding knot. And then her hair ... good God, her wavy black hair made that cloth feel like nettles in comparison.
Inch by inch, he separated the tripart weave, the waves both slick and clinging. And because he was a bastard, all he could think about was the shit falling over his bare chest ... his abs ... his c**k - "
That's far enough," she said.
Damn straight it was. Yanking his inner manwhore back to the land of polite conversating, he forced his hands to stop. Even halfway undone, the reveal was astounding. If she was beautiful all tied up, she was utterly resplendent with those waves curling around her waist.
"Braid it in, please," she said, holding his card out with her lax hand. "That way no one will find it."
He blinked and thought, Well, duh. There was no way in hell the Goateed Hater would be cool with his sister reaching out and touching her surgeon -
Not touching, he corrected himself.
Well, maybe a little touching. Like he could just do her. Er ... touch her.
Time to shut it, Manello, even though you're not talking out loud.
"You are brilliant," he said. "Altogether smart."
That got her to smile, and file that under Holy Shit. Those incisors of hers were sharp and white and long ... and evolutionarily designed for striking at the throat.
An orgasm tingled in the tip of his arousal -
And at that moment a frown passed over her face.
Oh, mannnn. "Ah ... can you read minds?"
"When I am stronger, yes. But your scent just grew more intense."
So she was making him sweat and somehow knew it. Except ... he got the feeling she was clueless as to the why, and wasn't that as tantalizing as the rest of her: She was utterly guileless as she stared up at him.
Then again, she might well not think of him sexually because he was a human. And hello, she'd just gotten out of the OR, so this was hardly spring break on Myrtle Beach.
Manny cut off his second interior convo and folded his business card in half. The good news about all her hair was that it was the work of a moment to camo his info in the braid. When he was finished, he rewrapped the cloth and tied a bow; then he carefully set the length down beside her on the bed.
"I hope you use it," he said. "I really do."
Her smile was so sad that it told him his chances were not all that hot, but come on. Contact between the two species was obviously not on their hit list or the term blood bank would have totally different connotations.
But at least she had his info.
"What do you think will happen?" she asked, nodding down at her legs.
His eyes followed her lead. "I don't know. The rules are obviously different with you ... so anything is possible."
"Look at me," she said. "Please."
He cracked a smile. "Never thought I'd say this ... but I don't want to." He braced himself, but couldn't make the shift up to her face quite yet. "Just promise me something."
"What may I grant you?"
"Call me if you can."
"I shall."
She didn't mean it, however. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but he was damn certain. Why she was keeping the card, though? Not a clue.
He glanced at the door and thought of Jane. Shit, he should apologize in person for being a little bitch about all this. "Before you do it, I need to go - "
"I wish I could leave something of myself behind. With you."
Manny snapped back around and locked his eyes on her. "Anything. I want anything you can give me."
The words were a dark growl, and he was very aware that he was talking sexually - and how much of a pig did that make him?
"Except anything tangible ..." She shook her head. "It would be of harm to you."