Grayson's Vow (47)

Would her suitcase be gone? Had she made a complete fool of me? Leaving me with nothing but shattered pride and a very real leg shackle, but no wife or the inheritance we’d agreed to split? I didn’t even bother knocking, striding through the cluttered front room and bursting into her bedroom, my heartbeat pounding in my chest at what I’d find. Don’t be gone. Please—

I expelled a giant breath when I saw her suitcase open on the floor, her clothes falling out the same way they’d been the day before. My gaze swung around the room, resting on the lump under the bedcovers. She was sleeping? At six at night? “Kira?” No answer. I moved to the bed and ripped the covers back. A small groan emerged and Kira pulled her legs up to her chest, rolling into an even smaller ball. “Kira?” I asked again, this time with the sudden worry that had swept through me lacing my voice.

Her face was covered with all that beautiful hair of hers, so I moved it back and put my hand to her forehead. Her skin was hot to the touch and she was sweat slicked but shivering. “Oh no, Kira, you’re burning up, sweetheart.” She only groaned again, moving her face in my direction but keeping her eyes closed. She mumbled something unintelligible and then shivered violently. Fuck me. This was my fault. I’d let her stay in this drafty, dusty place, caused her to take frigid showers for days on end. What was wrong with me? Guilt hit me in the gut and I put my arms under her, lifting her gently along with the quilt. “You’re coming up to the main house and that’s final. I’m laying down the law. I know somewhere in there you’re arguing with me, but I’m not taking no for an answer. You have no choice but to obey me. How do you like that, Wife?” I asked, trying to get some kind of reaction from her. She gave none other than pressing herself closer to me and shivering again.

I walked her carefully through the dirty, equipment-filled front room and kicked the door closed behind me, moving quickly through the unseasonably chilly, mist-filled evening. As I climbed the stairs with Kira in my arms, my head suddenly grew dizzy and I stopped, leaning against the banister for a moment. Well, that was strange. God, I hoped I wasn’t getting sick too. It would not be good timing. After a moment, the feeling passed, leaving only a strange buzzing in my blood. I brought Kira to the bedroom that had once belonged to my stepmother and laid her gently on the bed. I pulled the blankets back on the other side and then moved her over onto the sheets and covered her.

After smoothing her hair back and laying a cool washcloth on her forehead, I went to get some Tylenol. When I’d returned with the tablets, I shook Kira gently. “Kira, you need to tell me if you’ve already taken something. Kira?” She stirred, her eyes blinking up at me, the green even more vivid with the fever. “Kira, did you take anything? Any medicine?”

She shook her head and winced. “Didn’t have anything,” she croaked.

“Okay, then I need you to take these,” I said, holding the pills close to her mouth. She swallowed them and took several long drinks of the water I’d brought up, collapsing back on the pillows and closing her eyes once again. I took a moment to study her face. Her skin was flushed with the fever, her eyelashes long and dark on her cheeks, her lips dry and slightly parted.

“Beautiful little brat,” I whispered, smoothing her hair back. I became aware of the strange buzzing in my veins again and frowned. The buzzing seemed to flow down to my groin and I grimaced as I hardened. This was hardly the time for lust and yet my body seemed to have ideas of its own. I felt mildly ashamed. The woman in front of me was sick for God’s sake.

Over the course of the next day and a half, I worked to keep Kira comfortable as her body fought to break the fever, and I struggled to keep my own body under control. Need raged through my blood in some sort of fiery swirl of uncontrolled lust. I found myself doubled over repeatedly from the pulsing intensity of an erection that seemed to come out of nowhere and last for hours. It wasn’t normal. Something was drastically wrong.

I called José and told him I was too sick to work for the first time in the year since I’d been back. I wouldn’t have worked that day anyway, as I wouldn’t have left Kira alone—but the truth was, I was in no shape to leave the house. I was like an out-of-control animal. I wanted to fuck like a Viking—pillage and tear clothes and sate my throbbing desire over and over and over until the pulsating pain left me limp and finally satisfied. The thought itself seemed ridiculously dramatic, and yet I couldn’t think of any other way to explain it, even to myself.

I looked away as I wiped cool cloths on Kira’s neck and upper chest, shaking to control the urge to roll on top of her and take her, unconscious with fever or not. I had to relieve myself four times alone in the bathroom just to function enough to care for the little witch. No, this was not normal. Had she put some kind of evil spell on me? I felt possessed by a sexually aggressive demon straight from the depths of Hades.

I was on the verge of calling a doctor—or perhaps a priest to perform an exorcism on me—when the symptoms finally began to abate late Sunday afternoon. Mentally exhausted and physically drained—quite literally—I lay down on the bed next to Kira for just a moment. She felt markedly cooler, her breathing smooth and even. The dusky beginnings of twilight filtered in through the edges of the heavy drapes, and the low whir of the ceiling fan lulled me to sleep almost instantly.





CHAPTER TWELVE