BloodSworn (9 page)

 
Chapter Ten

T
rina
wasn’t aware what woke her, but she wanted to kill them when the warm, sensual
dream faded. She held still, half-able to feel those hands linger on her body,
but the outside world refused to bow to her wish.

Sounds seeped in first.

Or the absence of sounds.

No tweeting of birds. No people coming or going. She groped
for her weapon and sighed of relief when her fingers encountered cool steel.

The image of the sexy man, bound and determined to bring her
pleasure, vanished like a wisp of smoke, and she nearly whimpered.

Then she became aware of the soft surface beneath her and
not the hard lump of the makeshift bed she’d created in the shed. She cracked
open one eye, uncertain what to expect.

The Den.

Merrick.

He was the Leo. Of course he was. How could she not have
known? And how the heck did she get his attention or more importantly, how did
she escape it now that she was his concubine?

Memories of yesterday flittered through her head. One
thought rose to the forefront, like how she fell asleep on the couch and ended
up on the bed.

Half-afraid of what she’d find, she stretched out, shivering
at the feel of silk against her skin. She was spread-eagle on the bed, nowhere
near the sides, when she realized she was alone. Relief and disappointment
struck in equal measure, and she hated that she felt both.

The dream teased the back of her mind. She felt haunted by
her phantom lover’s touch, the aching need when he kissed her. She was
devastated by the loss, the realization he wasn’t real.

She befriended humans, but had never committed to a
relationship for the simple fact that any boyfriend she chose would always be
in danger.

She’d avoided the paranormal as well for fear of discovery.
But the man in her dream was different. He knew about her past and could
protect himself.

What hurt the most was it would only ever be a fantasy.

She rubbed her eyes, banishing the dream as best she could. She
had work to do. Sunlight streamed through the room, and she was surprised at
how deeply she’d slept. A few more nights rest like last night, a couple of
meals, and she’d be back to normal.

But first she had to do her job.

She scooted to the edge of the mattress and found that her
feet dangled nearly a foot from the floor. She dropped down, the plush rug warm
under her toes. She walked around the bed to grab her pack, probing her ribs,
taking measure of her injuries.

Or where her wounds should’ve been.

She ripped off the bandages, wincing at the tug of stubborn
tape. Deep bruises made the whole side of her body sensitive to even the
slightest touch, but the open lacerations she’d sustained last night had closed.
Smooth skin met her fingertips. Though she was thankful, the rapid healing
didn’t bode well for her.

It meant the bindings were weakening. How much longer before
they broke all together? A small part of her, the little girl who’d lost her
powers just as she found them, cheered at being able to defend herself. The
adult trembled.

What did she know about magic?

If she reversed the process and stopped her magic from
unraveling, she could buy herself some time. She was halfway bent down to kneel
and grab her bag when she saw him.

The same man from her dreams.

A very naked man.

Merrick.

Her mind rebelled. She couldn’t have had a sexy dream about
the man who might very well destroy her. Vampires had been in this very house
not a day ago. She couldn’t forget that, no matter how much her body wanted to
be worshiped by him.

Merrick lay stretched out, dwarfing the extra-large couch.
He didn’t look comfortable, but that wasn’t what captured her attention. The
sun highlighted the golden color of his skin. It was just how she imagined his
cat would appear.

The only thing blocking her view was the sheet draped haphazardly
over his slim hips. Her brain short-circuited at the thought of him completely nude.

Him sleeping within a few feet of her and all without a stitch
of clothing on struck her dumb, and her emotions jumbled at the conflicting
emotions.

She swallowed hard and fanned her face. No matter how much
she might have wished it, there was no way that image would ever be far from
her mind. Every time she saw him now, she would picture him stretched out as if
for her pleasure.

It didn’t matter that she was a doctor, that she’d seen
hundreds of naked bodies. She knew layers of skin and bone, but nothing in her
studies had ever shown a man structured quite like him, with muscles quite so
defined and begging to be stroked.

Doctor.

She shook her head at the reminder, as if she could banish
the impulse so easily. She needed to get a closer look at him to decide what
was the best course of action…for medical purposes she told herself sternly
when her pulse betrayed her and sped up.

She just didn’t know if she’d survive it.

One thing would help…getting him clothed.

But she couldn’t tear her gaze away from that sheet. Or more
precisely, what it hid. Where was a gust of wind when you needed one?

Her fingers itched to explore all that exposed flesh, but
she feared it had nothing to do with science. Her body urged her to touch,
while the sane, sensible part of her mind seemed to have taken a vacation.

Then she saw the lines of strain, the stiff way he held
himself even in sleep. She needed to see his back.

“Merrick, roll over.”

Trina found herself sprawled across the floor with a lion, in
all but animal form, half sprawled over her with his face just inches from hers.

She hadn’t even seen him move.

Was it her imagination or were his teeth sharper, his body
larger, and his eyes shaded just this side of golden?

She gave a tentative smile, knowing better than to try and escape.
“Hello.”

“Are we under attack?” He blinked as if confused, finally
recognizing her. His sleepy expression sent her heart thumping hard against her
ribcage. The rumpled appearance only made him more attractive, more
approachable and more touchable than was good for her.

Especially when she felt the sheet tangled around her feet.

No matter how much she told herself not to do it, it was too
late. Her eyes flickered downward.

Yup, naked.

And such a nice naked backside, too.

It was her turn to blink when she felt his arousal.

“Attack?” It sure felt like it, and she was unarmed. She
cleared her throat when he continued to gaze around the room. “I woke you to begin
your physical therapy.”

Vivid green eyes met hers. The wildness had retreated, yet
she very much felt like a mouse under a cat’s paw. Heat seeped in her pores,
but the calculated look he gave her brought back some of her sanity.

“Get up.” She resisted touching him. It would be a mistake
as once she started, she was very much afraid she wouldn’t stop.

Frown lines crinkled the corner of his eyes, and he levered
himself up on all fours. Trina didn’t wait, but scrambled backwards, her eyes
anywhere but on him and his now very happy dangly parts.

“It’s safe.” The humor in his voice had her head snapping
up. He stood, the sheet tucked around his waist. He wore a slightly disgruntled
expression that looked sexy as hell and a too-knowing gaze that did things to her
body that should be illegal…or bottled.

She scratched her eyebrow, glanced around as if she could
gather her scattered thoughts. When that didn’t work, she created a mental list
of what she needed to get done today. Too bad the first thing on the list
happened to be Merrick, but she wasn’t sure a reprieve would help any, not when
the problem was her libido.

A heavy sigh escaped, and she dropped her arm. “Up on the
bed and lay on your stomach.”

She retrieved her bag as he moved, grabbing a small notepad
from the contents. Though occupied, her eyes had a mind of their own, sneaking glances
as the big male prowled across the bed. But instead of taking her mind through
the gutter, okay, all the way through the gutter, she noticed the stiff movements
and the way he tried to hide it by overcompensating.

She tightened her lips against the need to babble, but it
did no good. “Where’s my hat?”

She was such a dork. What woman, when confronted by a naked
man like Merrick, one who made her toes curl with wicked thoughts, demanded her
clothing back?

“It’s safe.”

She opened her mouth to argue when he lay down, and she got
the first look at his back.

She expected to see a wound.

Instead, his back was peppered with badly healed entry points.
There had to be five bullet holes in all, not to mention the half dozen removal
incisions that were nothing more than ragged tears. It was like someone had used
a butter knife to cut him open.

Then it dawned on her.

Claws.

And from the angle of the injuries, his own. Her throat
ached at the pain he had endured. Then she wanted to smack him for his
stubbornness in not seeking help. No doubt it was because he didn’t want to be
seen as weak in front of the pack.

Knots of skin and muscles twisted up his spine in no
discernible pattern. It was a miracle that he was alive, let alone able to walk
at all.

“When did you say this happened?” She was lured closer by
his body again, but more in a professional curiosity this time.

“Six weeks.” Merrick hated the silence when she got the first
good view of his back. He refused to glance at her, unable to bear seeing her
flinch and turn away from him in disgust.

He’d slept better last night than he had in a long time with
nearly six hours of uninterrupted sleep. He had a sinking feeling it was
because of her. It only made him more determined that she wouldn’t leave, not
until he found out exactly what was going on between them.

When she woke him, he’d thought they were under attack.
Primal fear for her had him reacting instead of assessing the situation. The
quick movements had jarred his back, and he was now paying the price.

He was about to push himself up on his arms and soak his
muscles in a hot shower when he felt the bed dip. Cool fingers brushed over his
shoulder, and he flinched, but not in pain. Though she barely touched him, all his
nerve endings lit up.

“This might hurt a bit, but I need to see what type of tissue
damage you’ve sustained.”

So saying, she scooted closer and proceeded to lay her hands
on him. At first she just randomly probed areas, and he tried not to recoil. For
a distraction, he turned his head to study her face.

She had pulled her hair back in a twist that hid all those
wonderful highlights. Her gaze was so focused on her tasks and the notes she
jotted down that she didn’t even notice his observation.

It was hard to merge the image of the competent street fighter
from last night to the bookworm before him, but both suited her. If anything, this
vulnerable side made her all the more alluring.

When her exam grew increasingly painful, he focused on the
feel of her touch. He’d endure this and more if it meant getting her hands on him.
The more she touched him, the more familiar and comfortable she would become
with him.

Despite the way her brows scrunched while working out the
puzzle beneath his skin, he could tell that she liked it, too, by the way her
hands lingered on him when she became lost in thought.

When she stopped, he instantly missed her warmth, the smooth
drag of her fingers over him. She didn’t immediately retreat, so he remained
still, detesting the uncertainty as he waited for her verdict.

She shut her book and sighed. Despite everything, he’d let
himself believe that she’d be able to help. The disappointment struck hard.