Carpathian 17 - Dark Celebration

didn't make the mistake of going to her. He was too tall, towering over her diminutive frame, and he knew it would only frighten her more if he moved. He waited, holding his breath still in his lungs, regulating his heartbeat to hers in an effort to help steady her. She took a second step and then a third, reaching out with both hands so he could see the streaks of acid burn where the vampire's blood had melted the material of her gloves. Her hands shook as she placed them in his open palms.
    "Would you rather I call Francesca?"
    She shook her head. "They don't know I followed the call of the wolf. They'll be angry with me." She raised her eyes to his. "Disappointed in me."

    His call. Inwardly, Dimitri swore. He had not bound her to him, but his blood—his heart
    —his very soul called to hers. Of course she had answered. No lifemate could resist her other half in need. And he needed her desperately. He closed his fingers around hers.
    "I'll do this then. I cannot call down the lightning as you are not fully Carpathian, so I must use my own healing powers. It can feel—intimate. You'll have to trust that I am not taking advantage, but only doing what is necessary."
    He lowered his head, inch by slow inch, giving her plenty of time to change her mind.
    His gaze held hers captive, refusing to allow her to look away from the familiar act he was performing on her. His lips moved along the streaks, feather light, just skimming, brushing small caresses over the burns. His tongue stroked, velvet soft. She jumped and nearly pulled her hand away. Instinctively he tightened his fingers, holding her skin against his lips.
    Surely you know our saliva heals.
    Skyler nodded, still unable to pull her gaze from the deep blue of his. It doesn't feel the same as when Francesca or Gabriel have healed cuts on me. It feels … Intimate. Too intimate. Sexy. Erotic even. Faint color stole into her cheeks at her thoughts. She couldn't control the rush of heat in her bloodstream, or the way her womb clenched in anticipation when his lips touched another long burn. She was so mesmerized by him, she didn't even notice she'd used the most intimate form of speech of all—mind-to-mind on a private path only the two of them shared.
    His tongue swirled, taking the sting from the burns. It felt like seduction—and as if he were stealing away more than the pain. She could see every detail of his face, the strong jaw and nose, the shape of his mouth, most of all, those glacier-blue eyes she couldn't escape.
    His lashes were heavy and very black, just as his hair and brows were. The color of his eyes was more dramatic, more intensely alive, with the contrast. She felt almost dizzy, as if she were falling into his intent gaze.
    She drew air deep into her lungs and found his scent. Her heart matched the rhythm of his. Her mind actually relaxed its guard and allowed him to slip inside. His soul brushed up against hers. He didn't push, or take, merely touched, so light she barely felt it, barely felt the merging, her soul reaching instinctively, yearning for his—for him.
    She wanted to snatch her hand away, to tell him she'd have Francesca help her after all, but she couldn't. Nothing had ever felt so right in her life. In that brief moment there was no past or future, only this moment and this man.
    Dimitri was careful to find every burn on her skin, every thread the vampire's blood had left behind. They could be like spoors, spawning the most malevolent things if not eradicated. Fortunately, the vampire had been one that was more recently turned and hadn't yet grown fully into the power of evil. Dimitri took his time, brushing the pad of his thumb along her inner wrist, savoring the feel of her skin and the fact that for this one small moment in time, she relaxed a little with him.

    It was with great reluctance that he lifted his head and allowed her hands to slip through his fingers. "There. It is done."
    "What about your wounds? I can't heal you."
    "I can do that myself." But he couldn't breathe without her. He looked away from her before she glimpsed that in him—the need to gather her up and take her far away where she had no choice but to accept him. The beast struggled to rise, demanding its mate.
    Ruthlessly, he pushed it down. Nothing would mar this moment with her.
    "I wanted to see you again. I needed to talk to you."
    He bowed slightly from the waist and reached out with that same slow deliberation, giving her plenty of time to