“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
Kira
I came awake slowly, feeling as if I was emerging from somewhere deep and dark, the light far, far above. I blinked, trying to understand where I was, the feel of something warm and solid at my back. Turning groggily, I looked into the staggeringly beautiful face of a sleeping dragon. What? How? I tried to piece together what had brought me here and could only remember climbing into bed, practically unable to stand, feeling first like a boulder had fallen on my body and then as if I were being boiled alive. Even now, I felt groggy, my limbs heavy.
Visions of Grayson feeding me broth, putting cool cloths on my head, and smoothing my hair back came to me in scattered memory. He had cared for me while I was sick and feverish. Tenderness slipped around me as I gazed at him. My mind not fully awake, uninhibited by neither fear nor rationale, I brought my hand up to his face and moved my thumb down his rough jaw, shadowed with black stubble. This is what it would be like to wake to him. This is what it would be like if he were really mine. He hadn’t shaved in a couple days. Had I been here, in this room, for that long?
Grayson’s eyes blinked open and he stared at me for several moments, comprehension coming into his sleepy expression. “Hi,” he murmured, bringing his hand to my forehead. He sighed as he brought his hand away. “Fever’s gone,” he said.
“Yes. You took care of me,” I whispered. “Thank you.” He’s kind. The thought came sudden and sure.
Our gazes held. Yes, he had kindness and caring within him, but most of the time, he covered that kindness in ice and fire. And I now understood the reason. Charlotte had mentioned how he hadn’t had a good relationship with his father and stepmother. But she hadn’t told me how cruel Grayson’s father was. He sounded like a horrible man. The puppy story had broken my heart. What a wretched thing to do to a child. It had softened me toward Grayson too, which had led to me giving in to the physical temptation. Those kisses…the feeling of his mouth on my skin felt like part of a fever dream now. Maybe it was…
We lay like that, the moment seeming to be caught between sleep and wakefulness, both of us still tangled in the foggy web of dreams. His eyes were so beautiful—as dark as the night sky and just as easy to get lost in. He brought his hand to my cheek and brushed his thumb over my cheekbone. I sighed, leaning into his touch. Suddenly, he blinked, his eyes opening fully as if something had just occurred to him.
And pop, the spell was broken.
He rolled onto his back, looking almost guilty as he brought his hand to his hair and ran his fingers through it, gripping it at the top of his head. “It was—”
The doorbell rang, echoing through the house. He sat up. “Walter and Charlotte are still gone. I’ll get that.” He stood, his jeans and T-shirt wrinkled, his hair in disarray, the dark shadow of stubble making him look even more handsome somehow. His gaze ran over my body, and again, he looked away almost guiltily.
I came up on one elbow. “You didn’t…take advantage of my feverish state, did you, dragon?”
He clenched his jaw, his eyes growing impossibly darker, and said tersely, “No.” Then he turned and headed for the door. “Take a hot shower. I brought your suitcase up,” he said. I looked to where he inclined his head before he exited the room, and indeed, my suitcase and toiletry bag were sitting beneath the window.
I did as Grayson said, taking a long, hot, luxurious shower, savoring the feel of the heat raining down on my sore muscles, lathering and washing my skin with my shower gel again and again. It felt heavenly. When I finally emerged, clean and scrubbed, I felt fully awake and human again. After drying my hair and dressing, I went downstairs to find Grayson and get some food. I was ravenous.
Voices from the living room caught my attention and I turned in that direction, coming to a halt when I saw Kimberly sitting on the couch, Grayson across from her. They were both laughing about something but stopped when I entered the room. Kimberly let out a small shriek and stood up, running to me and swooping me up in a giant hug.
“What are you doing here?” I asked breathlessly, taking her in, my heart squeezing with happiness.
“You haven’t answered my calls in two days! I was worried. I came to make sure you weren’t shackled in a wine cellar being tortured mercilessly.” She smiled back at Grayson as if it was a joke they’d already shared. They seemed mighty chummy already. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Grayson stood. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” he said, his gaze fixed on me as he approached us. I couldn’t help but notice that despite having recently woken up, he still looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept much. “I need a shower anyway. Nice to meet you, Kimberly.”
I looked away, biting my lip at the sudden picture of Grayson Hawthorn naked under a hot spray of water. Soap cascading—
“Kira? Hello, Kira?” Kimberly said. “Do you want to sit?” She was obviously repeating the question I’d just missed.
“Oh, yes. See ya,” I said to Grayson who was already walking past us. “Um, thank you again.” His head turned slightly, but he didn’t say a word.