Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

her intense need to show him the truth, even though it embarrassed her a little. The sheer courage in her, the way she kept her word, giving herself to him fully and without reservation in every situation no matter the cost to her, astounded him.
    Zacarias knew how much she loved the horses. He could feel the joy in her when she spoke of them or thought of them, yet she was willing to turn around and walk back to the house with him if that was what he needed. She humbled him with her gift. With her serenity. With her efforts to put him first. She simply stood in front of him, quietly waiting his decision.
    Zacarias drew her into his arms and buried his face in the thick mass of her hair—the hair she’d left wild and messy just for him. How small a thing was it for him to allow her to calm the animals, especially if he was the one making them edgy and perhaps even dangerous?
    “You shame me, Marguarita.”
    No! She shook her head violently and stepped back to look him in the eyes again. Don’t do that. Don’t ever do that. You are my choice, just the way you are. I am not asking for changes. I will do whatever you wish.
    She wasn’t asking anything of him for herself that he could see. In truth, she had asked for the life of a friend. He had saved the man because she’d asked him to, but her motives weren’t selfish.
    He gestured toward the stable. “Continue. And do not worry about the way you feel. It pleases me that when we are together you are aroused by me.”
    She smiled at him. I am aroused by the mere thought of you, Zacarias. I don’t have to be in your presence. That’s how pathetic and obsessed I’ve become.
    He frowned at her. “Not pathetic. I am pleased.”
    Marguarita studied his face as if seeking something—reassurance perhaps. He was certain she didn’t want him going berserk and destroying her horses in a jealous rage.
    Again that sweet amusement slid into his mind. It never occurred to me that you would do such a thing.
    There it was. Her naivete, her innocence didn’t allow her the imagination to see the true depths of the monster she had tied herself to for all time. He refused to lie to her. To look away from her. “I am quite capable of such an action given the right provocation.”
    She frowned. What would that be?
    He squared his shoulders. She had courage and she deserved truth. “Jealousy. A threat to me—to you. To us.”
    There. It was out between them. The truth of what he was. Let her try to pretend she wasn’t appalled, sickened even, wishing she could shun him as the rest of the world did—and should. He watched her expressive and transparent face closely. At the same time, he held himself still inside of her, wanting to know every thought in her head.
    Marguarita sighed and brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his scarred knuckles. You have a very skewed vision of who you are and what you’re capable of, Zacarias. It’s a good thing I can see inside of you. I think you are deliberately trying to frighten me. Do I see that you are capable of great violence? Of course. I have access to your memories—all of them—even the ones you refuse to revisit. Are you capable of murder? Killing for killing’s sake? No. Solidly no. Firmly no. All the arguing in the world won’t change what I know to be true.
    He heard himself groan. He leaned his forehead tight against hers. “I have no idea what I am going to do with you, Marguarita.”
    Again her soft amusement filled his mind, bringing that heat that kept growing and moving through him, chasing out shadows and replacing them with light.
    Fortunately for you, I have all kinds of ideas. Let me take you into the stables, Zacarias. I want to share this with you. It’s the one thing I have to give you—a gift. My gift to you.
    She made him feel as if he could do anything. Was this love? Was this what he had been searching for all over the world, through centuries, never knowing such a thing really existed? He felt he could endure the warmth of the sun as long as he had her. She had brought colors to real, vivid life. Maybe there was nothing she couldn’t do, no miracle she couldn’t work. Maybe the horses would accept him into the stable as long as he had her by his side.
    “If it means so much to you, sívamet , then we will try.”
    Her face lit up and he felt everything in him settle again. She took his hand, threading her fingers through his. Let yourself drift with me. Stay inside me. You’ll feel what you