141
" His hand slid around to the nape of her neck. Slowly, inexorably, he forced her head down toward his. Shea closed her eyes, wanting, yet dreading his taking her blood. “I’d hate to have to feed you every day,” she muttered rebelliously.
And then his mouth touched hers. Featherlight, a skimming brush Shea felt right down to her toes. His teeth scraped her lower lip, teasing, tempting, enticing.
Darts of fire raced through her bloodstream. Her stomach muscles clenched. Open your mouth for me, stubborn little red hair. His teeth tugged; his tongue followed with a soothing caress. Shea gasped as much at the tender, teasing note as at the feel of his lips on hers. He took advantage immediately, fastening his mouth to hers, his tongue exploring every inch of her velvet-soft interior.
Flames licked at her, swept through her like a storm. Electricity crackled, and Shea knew the full meaning of chemistry. Feeling. Pure and simple. There was nothing else but his mouth claiming hers, whirling her into another world she hadn’t known existed. The ground shifted, and Shea clutched at his shoulders to keep from floating to the clouds. He was sweeping aside every resistance, demanding her response, taking her response, all hunger and desire. Then he was in her mind, white-hot heat, possession. She was his, only his, always his. Smug male satisfaction.
Shea shoved at his broad shoulders, then tumbled backward to the floor, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. They glared at one another, until amusement crept into her mind. Low, male, taunting. Nothing showed on his face, not a flicker in the ice of his eyes, but she knew he was laughing at her.
It took a moment to realize her robe was gaping open, giving him a generous view of her bare skin. With great dignity Shea dragged the lapels together. “I think we need to straighten something out here.” Sitting on the floor, struggling desperately to get her breathing under control, to throw ice water on the raging fire in her blood, Shea was afraid he wasn’t going to take her seriously. “I am your doctor. You are my patient. This…” She waved a hand, searching for the right words. “This sort of thing is unethical. And another thing. I am in charge here. You follow my orders, not the other way around. Absolutely never, under any circumstances, do that again.” Involuntarily she touched her fingers to her lower lip. “It wouldn’t have happened at all if you hadn’t infected me with some sort of, I don’t know, rabies strain.” She glared at him. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
143
" I am your doctor. You are my patient. This…” She waved a hand, searching for the right words. “This sort of thing is unethical. And another thing. I am in charge here. You follow my orders, not the other way around. Absolutely never, under any circumstances, do that again.” Involuntarily she touched her fingers to her lower lip. “It wouldn’t have happened at all if you hadn’t infected me with some sort of, I don’t know, rabies strain.” She glared at him.
He simply watched her with his disconcertingly steady gaze. Shea inhaled, wrinkled her nose, desperate to change the subject to something safe. He was supposed to be half-dead. He should have been dead. No one should be able to kiss like that after the agony he had been through. She had never, ever responded to anyone the way she had to him. Never. It was shocking, the effect he had on her.
There was a sudden glint in his eyes, somewhere between a flame dancing and amusement. No other man must ever make you respond to him. I would not be pleased.
“Quit reading my mind!” Her cheeks flushed a bright red; she glared at him. “This is a totally improper conversation between a doctor and a patient.”
Perhaps, but not between us.
She clenched her teeth, her green eyes smoldering. “Shut up,” she said rudely, a little desperately. She had to find a way to get control back, and he wasn’t cooperating. She took a deep, calming breath to restore her dignity. “You need a bath. And your hair could use a good wash.” Shea stood up and gingerly touched his thick ebony hair, unaware that the gesture was curiously intimate. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
147
" I’m sorry, I should have realized you’d be hungry. If you let me give you intravenous fluids, it would help.” The moment she put the glass down, she retreated to her computer desk.
He ignored her comment. Why do you not feed? The question was asked casually, curiously. His black eyes were thoughtful as he studied her.
From her position of safety across the room, Shea watched him. The weight of his gaze alone broke her concentration, took her breath away. She was feeling far too possessive of this patient. She had no right to tangle her life around his. It was frightening that she was reacting so uncharacteristically to him. She had always felt aloof, remote, detached from people and things around her. Her analytical mind simply computed facts. But right now, she could think only of him, his pain and suffering, the way his eyes watched her, half-closed, sexy. Shea nearly jumped out of her skin. Where had that thought come from?
Knowing she wouldn’t want to think he was reading her mind at that precise moment, Jacques did the gentlemanly thing and pretended merely a casual interest. It was nice to know she found him sexy. Smugly he lay back with his eyes closed, long lashes dark against his washed-out complexion.
Despite the fact that his eyes were closed, Shea felt as though he witnessed every move she made. “You rest while I shower and change my clothes.” Her hands went to her hair in a futile effort to tidy the wild thickness of it.
His eyes remained closed, his breathing relaxed. I can feel your hunger, your need for blood nearly as great as my own. Why would you attempt to hide this from me? With sudden insight he let out his breath. Or is it that you are hiding from your own needs? That is it--you do not realize it is your hunger, your need.
The gentleness in his flooded her body with unexpected heat. Furious that he could be right, she stalked into the bathroom, shrugged off her robe, and allowed the warm shower to cascade over her head.
His laughter was low and taunting. You think to escape me, little red hair? I live in you as you live in me.
Shea gasped, whirled around, grabbed frantically for a towel. It took a moment to realize he was still in the other room. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
149
" Shea stared out the window of the cabin into the driving rain. The droplets looked like tiny silver threads streaming from the gray sky. She shivered for no reason and crossed her arms protectively across her breasts.
“What’s wrong, Shea?” Raven asked softly, not wanting to intrude.
“Jacques just cut himself off completely from me.” Shea swallowed hard. All this time she had been so certain she needed her freedom from the continuous bond between them, but now that Jacques had withdrawn, she felt almost as if she couldn’t breathe. “I can’t reach him. He won’t let me.”
Raven sat up straighter, her face going very still. Mikhail?
Leave me for now, he ordered. Raven caught the impression of fear for Jacques’ sanity, the swirling, violent rage that had welled up in the Carpathian males just before Mikhail broke the mind contact with her. She cleared her throat cautiously. “Sometimes they try to protect us from the harsher aspects of their lives.”
Shea whirled around to face her, eyebrows up. “Their lives? Aren’t we bound to them? Haven’t they done something to irrevocably bind us to them so that there is no way to leave them? It isn’t just their lives. They brought us into this, and they have no right to arbitrarily decide what we can and can’t know.”
Raven swept a hand through her blue-black hair. “I felt the same way for a long time.” She sighed. “The truth is, I still feel the same way. But we persist in judging them by our human standards. They are a different species of people altogether. They are predators and have a completely different view of right and wrong. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
150
" I am sorry, Shea, I was thinking only of your protection. It is difficult for me to know we are hunted while I am so helpless to protect you, that we cannot leave this place because of my weakness. You are tied to my side, and I endanger you. He tried as hard as he could to undo the damage his thoughtlessness had caused. She deserved so much more than a half-mad lifemate. She seemed to have no real idea of what they needed to survive. You have no conception of the monsters we are dealing with. It is always important to scan as you wake, before you leave a dwelling. He tried to be gentle as he imparted the information. It was easy for him to read her mounting fears.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Her genuine puzzlement brought out a protective urge in him so strong that it shook his narrow world. He wanted to take her into his arms and shelter her for all eternity within his soul. She looked impossibly small and fragile, the questions in her mind as easy to read as the worry on her transparent face. His dark eyes widened in sudden understanding. You do not know the ways of our people at all, do you?
“What people? I’m an American, of Irish descent. I came here to do research on a rare blood disorder, which I seem to share with you. That’s all.” Unknowingly she was biting her lip, her knuckles white from clenching her fists, her body tense, waiting for his reply.
He cursed his inability to remember basic things, certain they were of great importance to the two of them. If she was as much in the dark as he was, they were in deep trouble. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
152
" Sometimes they try to protect us from the harsher aspects of their lives.”
Shea whirled around to face her, eyebrows up. “Their lives? Aren’t we bound to them? Haven’t they done something to irrevocably bind us to them so that there is no way to leave them? It isn’t just their lives. They brought us into this, and they have no right to arbitrarily decide what we can and can’t know.”
Raven swept a hand through her blue-black hair. “I felt the same way for a long time.” She sighed. “The truth is, I still feel the same way. But we persist in judging them by our human standards. They are a different species of people altogether. They are predators and have a completely different view of right and wrong.”
Raven shoved a hand through her hair, frowning as she did so. “I wanted to wait to have a baby. But Mikhail has been noticing differences in Gregori, and we both knew he needed some hope to continue. It worries me, though, because I still have such a hard time fitting into their world.”
Shea crossed the room and sat on the bed beside Raven’s chair. She could hear the fear in the woman’s voice, and something in her instantly responded. “At least there are two of us now. We can gang up on them.”
Raven laughed softly. “It’s such a fight all the time, maintaining any kind of control in my life with Mikhail. I have this feeling he’s only going to get worse with this pregnancy.”
“And you’re obviously going to have the healer on your back,” Shea pointed out. “He’s more daunting than Jacques’ brother.”
Raven sighed. “I wish I could say that wasn’t true, but he’s going to be horrible, really horrible. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
154
" As she moved past the bed, his hand snaked out, fingers shackling her wrist, drawing her close.
“What?” Shea perched on the edge of the bed, a faint smile on her face, her eyes soft, even tender, although she was unaware of it.
His palm slid up her arm; strong fingers massaged her aching shoulder. Thank you, little red hair. You made me feel alive again.
“You are alive, Jacques,” she reassured him, smoothing back his hair. “Disrespectful but definitely alive. I don’t know a single physician referred to as ‘little red hair.’”
Her quiet laughter remained in his mind long after he fell into the mortal state of sleeping. On some level he was aware of her closeness as she mixed soil, herbs, and saliva for his wounds, and it soothed him, kept rage, pain, and the terror of his empty, isolated world at bay. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
155
" I wanted to wait to have a baby. But Mikhail has been noticing differences in Gregori, and we both knew he needed some hope to continue. It worries me, though, because I still have such a hard time fitting into their world.”
Shea crossed the room and sat on the bed beside Raven’s chair. She could hear the fear in the woman’s voice, and something in her instantly responded. “At least there are two of us now. We can gang up on them.”
Raven laughed softly. “It’s such a fight all the time, maintaining any kind of control in my life with Mikhail. I have this feeling he’s only going to get worse with this pregnancy.”
“And you’re obviously going to have the healer on your back,” Shea pointed out. “He’s more daunting than Jacques’ brother.”
Raven sighed. “I wish I could say that wasn’t true, but he’s going to be horrible, really horrible. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
158
" She couldn’t look at Jacques, who had somehow made his large body thin and weird looking. Carpathians were capable of doing things she didn’t want to think about. How had she gotten herself into this mess?
Sex. A good-looking intense man with black, hungry eyes, and she fell like a lovesick calf. Sex. It ruined many otherwise sane women.
I can read your thoughts. The amusement was soft and caressing, wrapping her up in strong arms.
I was perfectly sane and sensible until I met you. Now look at me. I’m crawling around inside a mountain. Suddenly she stopped and held herself perfectly still. I’m hearing something. Tell me you are not taking me into a cave full of bats. Say it right now, Jacques, or I’m out of here.
I am not taking you into cave filled with bats.
Shea relaxed visibly. She was not squeamish about very many things, but bats were creatures that were on the earth to remain a safe distance away from her. Miles away. Bats were one of those things she could stare up at in the night sky and think how interesting and wonderful they were, as long as they stayed high above her and nowhere close. Her nose wrinkled. The sounds she was trying to ignore were getting louder. Her heart began to pound in alarm. The walls of the passageway were so narrow, she had no way to move fast. All at once she felt trapped, as if she was suffocating.
I’m going back, Jacques. I’m not a cave person. She did her best to sound firm and matter-of-fact, not at all as if she were seconds from screaming her head off. She turned her head cautiously to keep from scraping her face on the jutting surfaces.
His fingers circled her wrist like a vise. There must be no disturbance. If any creatures exit the cave or warn others of our existence here, we could be found.
A piece of paper couldn’t fit in here, certainly not a person. No one is going to look for us here.
A vampire would know the moment bats flew from the cave.
Bats can’t fly out of here if there aren’t any in here, now, can they? She was sweetly reasonable.
Trust me, little red hair, it is only a short distance farther.
You aren’t going to make me sleep in the ground, are you? Because I won’t do it, not even if there are ten vampires stalking us. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
160
" Shea! The call was loud, a flood of fear and confusion, an impression of strangling, of darkness and pain.
I’m here, Jacques. She sent her answer back so easily it startled her. To reassure him, she tried to fill her mind with every beautiful thing she saw.
Come back to me. I need you.
She smiled at the demand in his voice; her heart somersaulted at the raw truth in his voice. He never tried to hide anything from her, not even his elemental fear of her leaving him to face the darkness alone. Spoiled brat. She sent it tenderly. There’s no need to sound like the lord of the manor. I’ll be right in. There was no reasonable explanation for the joy flooding her at the touch of his mind lingering possessively in hers. She shied away from looking at that one too closely, too.
Just come to me. He was more relaxed now, beating back his fear of isolation. I do not want to wake alone.
I do need an occasional break. How was I supposed to know you would wake at this precise moment?
She was teasing him. Warmth curled in the pit of his stomach. He had no memory of such a thing before Shea. There was no life before Shea. There had been only ugliness. His world had been torment and hell. He found himself smiling. Of course you should know when I wake. It is your duty.
I should have known you would think that way. Shea laughed aloud as she raced across the rough terrain back to the cabin, reveling in her ability to do so, at the sudden surge of strength she had never before experienced. For just a brief moment a heavy weight seemed lifted from her shoulders, and she knew carefree happiness.
Jacques found he couldn’t take her eyes from her. She looked so beautiful, her red hair tangled and wild, just begging for a man’s fingers to straighten it. Her eyes were sparkling as she came across the room to his side. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
