Fangs For The Memories. Kathy Love

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ glanced at her again. With his black coat wrapped around her, the pixie did look a bit like a child dressed up as a vampire for Halloween. But she wasn’t. And he should have no connection with her.

      But he had.

      “I had been just about to apologize to you when that guy showed up again.”

      Rhys frowned, confused by her sudden announcement. “Apologize?”

      She nodded, not looking at him, but watching the sidewalk in front of them. “For being so rude to you.”

      “Rude?”

      She glanced up at him. “I yelled at you.”

      She did?

      “I asked you what you were looking at,” she clarified.

      He shook his head, and felt a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That wasn’t yelling. In this city, that was just a typical greeting.”

      The pixie laughed slightly, but it broke off into a strangled sob. She stopped, holding her hands over her face. Her shoulders shook.

      Rhys stood beside her, listening to the heart-wrenching crying, feeling her awful distress. The pain of it in his own chest almost crushed him. He found he wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how to do that. He hadn’t consoled anyone in—so long. But cautiously, he touched her shoulder.

      “Shh, it’s okay.”

      She swiped at her face, obviously irritated with herself for falling apart. “I’m sorry.” She forced a shaky smile at him. “This was supposed to be a new beginning. I sold everything I own, my house, the family business, everything, to start this great, new life. But after today, I’m thinking I made a big mistake.”

      He didn’t know what to say. She was talking about life, and he didn’t have one of those. “Maybe tomorrow will be better,” he offered lamely.

      She stared at him for a moment. Then a genuine laugh escaped her, even though she did hiccup slightly at the end of it. She rose up on her tiptoes and flung her arms around his neck. She pressed her warm, soft lips to his cheek.

      If his heart were beating, it would have stopped. When was the last time he’d felt the warmth of a human’s embrace, the tenderness of a kind touch. But it wasn’t tenderness that he felt in return. Not even close. Raging, searing hot desire ripped through his icy body.

      He wanted this woman. He wanted to sink into her heat. Devour her. Making her scream for him. And he wasn’t talking about with his fangs. Although he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to taste her as she orgasmed for him.

      His cock spiked and his fangs unsheathed.

      Roughly, he disengaged her arms from around his neck and set her away from him.

      “I’m sorry,” she said, although she couldn’t quite keep the wounded look from her eyes.

      He quickly ran his tongue along his teeth to make sure his fangs had receded. “No, I just…” What could he say? I didn’t want to either screw you or bite you or both right here on the sidewalk. “I just don’t want you to think I’m like that coward back there.”

      She smiled, then shook her head. “I’d never think you were like that guy. That man is a violent monster. You saved me.”

      Damn, if she knew the truth about him. She’d run so fast.

      “We better keep walking.” He had to get away from her. He had to put distance between them and sever this connection he felt with her. He didn’t understand it, but he knew it was dangerous. Any association with a mortal could only bring them both pain. That’s why he’d worked so hard to stay away from them, except the ones as empty as he was.

      She looked around nervously and matched her steps to his rapid pace.

      Her hotel was a nondescript building, square and run-down with tread-worn carpeting and shabby sofas in the small lobby.

      She followed his gaze. “I was only supposed to be staying here a couple days. Now I might have to stay a little longer.” When she saw his deepening frown, she added, “It shouldn’t be longer than a week or so.”

      He nodded, but he hated to leave her here. Still, she was safer here than with him. He didn’t think he could keep looking into those green eyes of hers and not touch her. His longing for her appeared to be growing by the second. And although it was lust, the feeling seemed to be laced with something else. A craving for warmth, and caring, and affection. All things that were dangerous for him to want.

      “Okay, well, good luck,” he said.

      The slight curve of her lips was more a forlorn grimace than an actual smile. “Well, like you said, things will probably get better tomorrow.”

      She waved at him and started toward the rumbling, creaking elevator. She stopped.

      He felt a wave of anticipation. Maybe she would return and touch him once more. There couldn’t be any harm in that since he’d never see her again.

      “I almost forgot.” She shrugged out of his coat and held it out to him. “Your coat.”

      He stepped forward and took it from her.

      “What is your name?”

      The sudden question took him by surprise for a moment. “Rhys. Rhys Young.” The irony wasn’t lost on him.

      She smiled. “Thank you, Rhys Young.”

      He nodded, but just as she stepped onto the rickety elevator, he called out, “Hey, what’s your name?”

      “Jane Harrison.”

      Suddenly the elevator’s silver doors started to shut. Jane put out a hand to stop them; the ancient machine did not respond. He heard her good-bye before the doors muffled her voice completely.

      “Good-bye, Jane Harrison.” He wished he hadn’t asked for her name. It would be so much easier to forget her if he didn’t have a name.

      Chapter 3

      Jane closed her door, bolted the main lock as well as slipping the chain lock into place. Then she rushed around the double bed to the dingy windows, pulling back the coarse beige curtain. She caught a glimpse of Rhys just as he disappeared around the street corner.

      She sighed and closed the curtains. Tonight had been a nightmare, yet she didn’t feel nearly as shaken as she should. Her limbs were weak, and her heart seemed to be beating a little out of rhythm, but she wasn’t sure whether that was residual fear or the overwhelming attraction she felt for Rhys.

      This is stupid. She’d just been attacked, nearly raped. Possibly killed. And she was thinking about Rhys, although he had been her hero. And it was much nicer to think about him than what might have happened if he hadn’t been there.

      Maybe that was why she felt so attracted to him. Wasn’t there a name for this kind of thing? Hero worship?

      Of course, any woman СКАЧАТЬ