Carpathian 02 - Dark Desire

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 Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    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.
    "Are you feeling any better?" As always she examined his wounds to see for herself if he was making progress.
    He lifted a hand, needing to touch the silk of her hair. Much. It was a blatant lie, and she scowled at him.
    "Is that so? I'm beginning to think you need a monitor like we have for newborns. I want you to lie quietly. I can tell you've been squirming around again."
    I have nightmares. His black eyes never left her face, burning his brand into her heart. No one had the right to have eyes like his. Hungry eyes. Eyes that held fire and the promise of passion.
    "We'll have to do something about them," Shea said with a slight smile. She hoped her own eyes weren't revealing her confused, unfamiliar feelings for him. She would get over them soon; it was just that he was the sexiest thing she had ever encountered.
    No one had ever needed her as he did. Not even her own mother. Jacques had a way of looking at her as if his life, the very air he breathed, depended solely on her. Intellectually she knew that any living person would really do for him, but she wrapped herself up in his hunger and fire anyway. For this time in her life, when she was alone and hunted, near the end of her endurance, and coping with many bizarre happenings, she would enjoy this unique experience.
    His black eyes smoldered, a velvet seduction. I need a dream to rid myself of nightmares.
    She backed away from him holding a palm outward to ward him off. "Just you keep your ideas to yourself," she warned. "You have that devil's look, the one that says no woman is safe."
    That is not true, Shea, he denied, the hard edge of his mouth softening into temptation. Only one woman. You.
    She laughed at him. "I think I'm very grateful you're in no condition to move around. The sun is coming up, and I have to secure the cottage for daylight. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." Shea patted the one comfortable chair she had.
    You will lie beside me where you should be, he informed her.
    Shea carefully closed the shutters on the windows and fastened them. She was always cautious in locking her home. During the day she was very vulnerable. Already she could feel her body slowing, becoming heavier, more tired.
    I want you to lie beside me. His voice was a sinful caress, enticing, insistent.
    "I think you can manage all by yourself," she answered, refusing to look into his dark, hypnotic eyes.
    Instead, she shut off her computer and the generator and locked the door.

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    I have nightmares, little red hair. The only way to keep them at bay is to have you close beside me. He sounded very earnest, innocent, hopeful.
    Shea found herself smiling as she poured him another unit of blood. She was beginning to think the devil himself had shown up at her doorstep. Jacques was temptation incarnate. "I removed a stake from your heart just a couple of nights ago, and you have a major wound there. If I move around while I sleep, I could easily bump into you and start it bleeding again. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
    He took the container from her hand, his fingers curling around the glass precisely over the spot where her fingers had been. He did things like that, intimate things that sent butterfly wings brushing deep within her. Not my heart, Shea. They did not get me in the heart, as they should have. It is here