found the light switch, and I shuffled through the static darkness into my bedroom. I lay down and my bones seemed to melt right out of my body and into the mattress. I sighed, and then felt myself roll slightly toward a warm indentation filled with a long, hard body. My eyelids fluttered up and I could see Malcolm’s teeth as he smiled in the dark, a dull fox-fire glow in the depths of his eyes.
“Well, hello there,” he said.
“I don’t even care,” I mumbled, drifting off. “Just, please, don’t touch me while I sleep.”
Chapter Four
The problem with not caring enough to kick Malcolm out of my bed was that he was still there when I woke up. Also, my body had betrayed me in my sleep by slithering across the bed—unwrapping the robe in the process—and gluing itself to the vampire.
To his credit, Malcolm didn’t say anything. Not right away. Probably he was savoring my discomfort because his energy was tap dancing against me with an insistent, almost electric heat. And I’d always thought vampires felt cold.
I blinked, eyelashes brushing against his chest. My hand rested on his hip. Not the hip closest to me, which would have been marginally acceptable. No. My arm, looking small inside of gaping blue terry cloth, was stretched diagonally over his bare torso and my hand rested on his equally bare far hip. Claiming the continent of his body. I stretched my pinkie below the covers, subtly scouting for underwear or—better yet—a chastity belt. He jerked, the muscles of his stomach contracting.
“Mary, I did as you asked.” His voice was low. “I did not touch, despite you wrapping your hot little body all around me. But this…” He covered my hand with his and my wrist brushed against something hard and prominent beneath the down comforter. “This is too much.”
I snatched my hand back and rolled away, breaking the connection his energy had made with an audible snap. My robe abandoned me, one side of it pinned suspiciously beneath him. I whimpered as I pulled the covers up, the muscles of my shoulders and back screaming in protest. Malcolm propped his head up on his hand. I stared at the ceiling, wide awake, clutching the duvet beneath my chin.
“You could have left the bed at any time,” I choked out. It was still light out, but getting darker. My bedside clock read three o’clock, but it was winter in Alaska, so it would be fully dark shortly. And then he could go.
“I tried to leave you alone. I showered, attempted to sleep on that brick of a couch you have. But do you know that you moan in your sleep? Tantalizing sounds.”
I cranked my head around to glare at him and I must have looked truly pathetic, because his easy smile faded.
“You should be feeling better by now,” he said.
“Why? Did I sleep for a week?”
“No, but I leant you energy after the blast, and you’ve been beside me for hours.”
“You were trying to…heal me? Without blood?”
“That’s not possible,” he said dismissively. “But your body should be able to use the power I emit to speed its own repairs.” I rolled toward him, mirroring his position.
“Why couldn’t I sense it before?” I reached toward his chest, not quite touching, letting the feel of him pulse against my skin. “You’re so clearly a vampire.”
“You have your disguises.” He smiled and trailed a single finger from my shoulder to my elbow. I told myself that it only felt nice, not fantastic. “And I have mine. How bad do you feel?”
“Like I got blown up.” Fatigue crept back into me. I let my hand fall, grazing his chest on its way down. He sucked in a breath and my mouth twitched. I really did affect him. Maybe the offers of dinner and globe trotting weren’t a game.
“It’s likely a symptom of your unusual condition,” he said. “Like how you never responded to my influence before you were too injured to fight it. If you would relax your guard, you might feel better.”
I sank onto my back. “Your men’s
“Well, hello there,” he said.
“I don’t even care,” I mumbled, drifting off. “Just, please, don’t touch me while I sleep.”
Chapter Four
The problem with not caring enough to kick Malcolm out of my bed was that he was still there when I woke up. Also, my body had betrayed me in my sleep by slithering across the bed—unwrapping the robe in the process—and gluing itself to the vampire.
To his credit, Malcolm didn’t say anything. Not right away. Probably he was savoring my discomfort because his energy was tap dancing against me with an insistent, almost electric heat. And I’d always thought vampires felt cold.
I blinked, eyelashes brushing against his chest. My hand rested on his hip. Not the hip closest to me, which would have been marginally acceptable. No. My arm, looking small inside of gaping blue terry cloth, was stretched diagonally over his bare torso and my hand rested on his equally bare far hip. Claiming the continent of his body. I stretched my pinkie below the covers, subtly scouting for underwear or—better yet—a chastity belt. He jerked, the muscles of his stomach contracting.
“Mary, I did as you asked.” His voice was low. “I did not touch, despite you wrapping your hot little body all around me. But this…” He covered my hand with his and my wrist brushed against something hard and prominent beneath the down comforter. “This is too much.”
I snatched my hand back and rolled away, breaking the connection his energy had made with an audible snap. My robe abandoned me, one side of it pinned suspiciously beneath him. I whimpered as I pulled the covers up, the muscles of my shoulders and back screaming in protest. Malcolm propped his head up on his hand. I stared at the ceiling, wide awake, clutching the duvet beneath my chin.
“You could have left the bed at any time,” I choked out. It was still light out, but getting darker. My bedside clock read three o’clock, but it was winter in Alaska, so it would be fully dark shortly. And then he could go.
“I tried to leave you alone. I showered, attempted to sleep on that brick of a couch you have. But do you know that you moan in your sleep? Tantalizing sounds.”
I cranked my head around to glare at him and I must have looked truly pathetic, because his easy smile faded.
“You should be feeling better by now,” he said.
“Why? Did I sleep for a week?”
“No, but I leant you energy after the blast, and you’ve been beside me for hours.”
“You were trying to…heal me? Without blood?”
“That’s not possible,” he said dismissively. “But your body should be able to use the power I emit to speed its own repairs.” I rolled toward him, mirroring his position.
“Why couldn’t I sense it before?” I reached toward his chest, not quite touching, letting the feel of him pulse against my skin. “You’re so clearly a vampire.”
“You have your disguises.” He smiled and trailed a single finger from my shoulder to my elbow. I told myself that it only felt nice, not fantastic. “And I have mine. How bad do you feel?”
“Like I got blown up.” Fatigue crept back into me. I let my hand fall, grazing his chest on its way down. He sucked in a breath and my mouth twitched. I really did affect him. Maybe the offers of dinner and globe trotting weren’t a game.
“It’s likely a symptom of your unusual condition,” he said. “Like how you never responded to my influence before you were too injured to fight it. If you would relax your guard, you might feel better.”
I sank onto my back. “Your men’s
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