I Want You To Want Me. Kathy Love

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СКАЧАТЬ first she couldn’t locate the speaker in the shadows and greenery of the courtyard. Then a figure stepped forward into the glow of the courtyard’s dim garden lights.

      Erika squinted. “Vittorio?”

      Chapter 2

      He strolled closer, giving her a better glimpse of his lean frame, languid movements, and the sheen of golden hair.

      “Yeah,” he said, his voice a deep rumble, answering her question.

      Not that there had really been any question there. She’d have recognized Ren’s younger brother anywhere. She’d thought of this man innumerable times over the past several months. Yet now she could think of nothing comprehensible to say to him. Not even, hello. Not even, you scared the crap out of me.

      “I’m sorry to startle you,” he was saying, his words almost unintelligible through the still-thundering beat of her heart echoing in her ears. Although that wasn’t just fear now.

      She could only gape at him. What was he doing here?

      “Do you have a towel?” he asked.

      Erika frowned, not following that line of questioning at all. Then she realized his hand was pressed to his brow.

      “Are you okay?” she managed, still feeling like she’d just stepped off the world’s most frightening roller coaster only to discover her heart’s desire at the bottom of the exit ramp.

      Her heart’s desire? She was more shaken than she realized.

      “Aside from the blow to the head?” he asked, dryly. “Sure, I’m good.”

      She squinted at him. “Blow to the head?”

      He held up an object. Erika blinked.

      “That’s my cell,” she murmured, staring at the scratched black phone with its dead battery. Then she realized that was what she’d flung in her utter terror.

      “Yes, I gathered that it was yours when you threw it at me.”

      Erika cringed. “You scared me. I didn’t expect anyone to be in the upstairs apartment.”

      “I didn’t expect anyone to be in the downstairs apartment.”

      “I’ve been renting it for about two months now,” she said automatically, then she realized that she sounded apologetic. Which she had no reason to be.

      “So a towel? Do you have one?”

      Erika immediately started. “Oh. Yes, of course.”

      She stepped down from the carriage-house steps and headed back toward her place, making sure not to get too close to Vittorio. Something about him still made her feel wary—even as her body reacted to him. How was that even possible?

      She was aware of him right behind her. She could feel him there, as if he were pressed against her, rather than a couple of feet away. The sensation surprised and unnerved her, although she wasn’t sure why.

      Vittorio had made the same impression when they’d met nearly eight months ago. Her body had never reacted to a man like it had when he’d touched her. A mere shake of hands when Ren had introduced them. But the electricity from the brief contact had been knee-weakening and more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. Well, at least for her. She had no idea if Vittorio had felt the same axis-tipping chemistry.

      She pushed open her door and entered her apartment, letting him follow. She didn’t look back as she headed to the small kitchen and grabbed a roll of paper towels.

      “Here you go,” she said, managing a small smile, despite her body’s current reaction to him. Her heart still pounded. She felt breathless.

      He snatched the paper towels from her grasp, before she could even hold them out to him. He removed his hand from his forehead to pull one of the paper squares off the roll.

      Erika gasped as she saw the gash on his temple, and realized he was bleeding, a lot, just above his left brow—the blood a deep red, vivid and horrible looking.

      “My God, that looks terrible.” She moved closer to inspect the wound. She gently pressed her fingers to his cheek, rising up on her tiptoes to see the cut better. “You should go to the doctor. I’ll take you.”

      “It’s fine,” he muttered, jerking back from her and pressing the wadded-up towel to the cut.

      “It doesn’t look fine,” she told him, sinking back on her heels and dropping the hand that she’d pressed to his cool cheek. A wave of rejection filled her. Ridiculous given that he was hurt. And by her, no less. He certainly had every right to be distrustful of her, and irritated too. “That looks like it needs stitches.”

      “It’s fine. A bandage will take care of it.”

      “I have a Band-Aid in the bathroom. I think. And maybe some hydrogen peroxide.” She turned to go search, but his deep voice stopped her.

      “I’m fine.” He sounded almost irritated now.

      She ignored it. “It’s no bother.” She headed down a hallway which led to her bedroom and the bath.

      Vittorio watched Erika disappear down the hallway. He gritted his teeth at the fact that even for just the briefest moment, his eyes had dropped down to look at the fit of the pastel plaid pajama bottoms she wore against her rounded derriere.

      He wasn’t here to be checking out Maggie’s friend’s rear end. He’d do well to remember that.

      Lifting the paper towel from his wound, he inspected it to see if the bleeding had lessened. Damn, head wounds bled a lot—even for vampires. But the bleeding was already stopping. And he certainly didn’t need a Band-Aid. The cut would be healed by tomorrow night. Something vampires didn’t share with humans.

      He jammed the towel back to the wound, irritated with himself. Of course, being a vampire, he shouldn’t have even been hit. His reflexes were usually impeccable. Hell, he could literally dodge a bullet. Yet he’d gotten beamed in the head with a frantically flung cell phone.

      But the truth was he’d been stunned to see Erika dashing through the darkness. Stunned and unreasonably thrilled.

      He’d not allowed himself to think about Maggie’s friend since meeting her at the small jazz bar and restaurant where Ren had introduced them months earlier.

      Oh, she’d popped into his mind at random and inappropriate times, but he’d shoved all images of her aside. He had no room in his life for her.

      He’d returned to New Orleans with only one task in mind, and Erika with her pretty smile and intelligent blue eyes and totally perfect rear end….

      He groaned. Do not let your thoughts head in that direction. Don’t. He’d be a fool to go there—even in fantasy.

      “I have one Band-Aid,” Erika said, materializing out of the dark hallway. “And I couldn’t find any hydrogen peroxide. But I do have antibiotic ointment.”

      Vittorio, СКАЧАТЬ