“Hell, I’m as crazy as they are,” Bram mumbled under his breath, but he’d heard and recognized the plea in Roman’s words. He wasn’t going to let her die. Not on his watch.
***
Selene turned her head and found warmth. Skin. The scent tickled her nose as it wrapped around her mind. Half delirious with pain, she knew she was imagining it. She fought the urge to cry out when she shifted. Damn, but she hurt everywhere. She inhaled once more and found the heated scent again. She felt the movement of breathing against her hair, an arm resting against her. Her mind couldn’t break apart the signals. Where was she? Why did she hurt? She shifted again, a little higher and found the source of the warm scents. The animal flicked out its tongue touching, tasting; the woman knew she should have been alone.
She had come back to die.
“Mmm,” purred a sleepy male voice. “Are you awake?”
She tried to swallow but had nothing to force down her throat. She felt the weight next to her move as a cup came to rest on her lips. She sipped, thankful for any moisture. Her eyes snapped open as a ravenous hunger clawed at her with the first sip. The cup held a flavorful beef broth. She finished it in three swallows. She relaxed backward again, realizing she had lifted herself several inches from the bed.
“I guess you’re back among us again,” came the kind voice again.
She licked her lips, savoring the flavor and sighed as her eyes fluttered to focus. “Bram?” she croaked, dazed and in pain.
“Yes.” He looked down at her with a soft smile. “You gave me a hell of a scare lady. Do you always go out to find that much trouble or was it just a lucky night for you?”
Her eyes felt heavy. “How long… What happened?”
The bed gave when he rose from the bed. “Food, then talk,” he ordered. She drifted in and out of consciousness until a familiar smell reached her nose. It was warm as it touched her lips. She took it and swallowed it in just a few bites. Her eyes popped open in surprise. Meat! He was feeding her meat.
She ate like a starving body as he kept lifting it to her, chunks of warmed red meat, the blood still dripping as he hand fed her from beside the bed. When the plate was empty he set it beside her bed, wiping her mouth and chin with a napkin as he wiped his own hands.
She felt warm and relaxed until she tried to move and cried out in a sharp yelp.
“Be still, “ he reprimanded. “You’re torn to shreds.”
She closed her eyes again. “How long have you been here?”
“Two days now. Morgan asked me to check on you when he couldn’t reach you.”
“Worried sick. That’s Morgan,” she whispered. Her body ached even as she felt the warmth as the food—pure protein—hit her system.
“With good reason.” He brushed a length of hair away from her face with a gentle touch. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Her heart sank when she remembered why she had done something so foolish. “Does it matter?”
“I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “But I think it might help me understand why you were on the floor more dead than alive when I did find you.”
“I should have died,” she said with conviction. “I wanted to die.” She opened her eyes with an accusing glare.
“I know, and I know why.”
“Then why didn’t you let me die?” she demanded, her voice weak, but unable to hide the wounded woman behind it.
He moved from his spot beside the bed, stretching out next to her again with tender care. “Wake me when you’re hungry again.” He crossed his arm over her body, careful of any soreness. “Rest. You can be mad at me later.”
Her body shuddered as his warmth flooded her, the familiar longed-for scent of him filling her, comforting her. She fought it. She’d been wrong about him. She felt as he fell asleep next to her, his breathing even and deep against her hair as her eyes drifted closed again unable to fight the bonedeep weariness of her pain. Even in her physical condition, she couldn’t control the urges that his nearness brought out of her. The urge to have him. It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. She’d been wrong. That was the sad thought that stayed with her as she fell back into sleep.
The sun had moved again when she opened her eyes, but she was alone in her bed. So he had left, or maybe it had been her imagination. She wouldn’t have been surprised. She turned over and felt the sharp pain in her left leg, the ache in her side. She closed her eyes briefly as the memories came back to her. She should be dead and she knew it.
The door slid open and Bram walked to the edge of the bed, sitting in the chair he had used earlier in the day. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he asked as he placed a tray on the stand next to her bed.
“Why are you here?” she demanded quietly, still unwilling to look at him.
“Making sure you don’t die. Please don’t make Roman mad at me by dying,” he told her in a jesting voice. “You weren’t kidding. He’s huge!” He smiled when she bit her lip. She shrugged. “I guess I’m just used to him.”
“Give me your hands,” he ordered, reaching for her.
She pulled them slowly from beneath the covers. He unwrapped one then the other, turning them this way and that as he studied them. “You don’t need the bandages for these any longer, but I’m going to watch that slice. It’s a little slower since you haven’t been able to eat.”
She shot him a look. How did he know that?
“Are you my doctor?”
“Yes, so be a good patient.” He lifted the corner of her sheet. “Push out your leg.” She did as he told her. “Hmm, also slow, but this was really bad. No leg waxing for a while.” He grinned when she tried not to laugh. He moved to the other side and lifted the sheet baring her side. “See, that’s almost healed. Damn, I wish I could do that. I hate shaving nicks,” he sighed with a disgusted shrug. Her smile was unstoppable.
“Take a deep breath.” She did. “Do your ribs hurt?” She shook her head, and laughed outright when he mockingly glared at her. She bit it back before he could hear the moan her laughter had brought on herself. He did have a great bedside manner, but she’d known that. “You had a cracked rib from the bullet. I think I could almost hate you for that.” But he was grinning as he retook his seat.
“Do you think you can sit up to eat?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He propped her up as he adjusted her pillows, then set down the tray on her lap.
“I wasn’t sure if you used forks and stuff so I just cut it up for you,” he said.
“I usually do…” And before she had finished, he had whipped out a fork from behind his back.
“Oh, Bram.”
“Eat, then cry, or yell, or whatever it is you do after you almost die. We still need to talk and I need to call in again.”
Her heart hit her ribs at her own selfish behavior. “Oh, God, the hospital!”
He just put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “They still think you’re on personal time and they think I’m doing house calls. Thank God for Doctor Dave and the others. They can call me on the cell if they really need me and I’ve been checking in constantly. Before you panic, no one knows about this and no one suspects, I hope, that I’m here.” He stood pointing to the tray on her lap. “Eat, doctor’s orders.” She felt her eyes fill as she watched him walk out the door. She looked at the plate. Twice now he’d brought rare, warmed red meat. Her gaze flicked to the door. What had happened? How did he know? She ate a little slower than the first time while she tried to figure him out but the plate was still cleaned before he came back, long before she had an answer to his new attitude.
He lifted a brow when he returned just moments later. “I guess there’s a reason you keep your freezer stocked.”
She glanced bashfully at the cleaned plate. “Only when I need it, otherwise, I eat like everyone else. Almost,” she offered when his eyes lifted to hers. “Have you been eating?”
He nodded. “Although, if this gets to be a regular thing, a couple of potatoes go a long wa
y with steak. You know, for variety,” he said with a nonchalant rolled shoulder. He took the tray and set it out of the way. She watched him cautiously as he sat again, this time on the side of the bed. He lifted a hand to cradle her face as his eyes searched her. She wanted to just melt. He felt so good, so right. But then she remembered his anger, his disbelief and straightened her shoulders.
“Bram, I appreciate this…” He pressed a gentle finger to her mouth.
“Wait,” he told her gently. “There is something that I have to do first.” His voice wound over her spine, sending tingles all over her body. She waited with an expectant breath as he leaned forward. Was he going to kiss her? She felt her heart beat hard against her ribs as the thought of his lips stirred her blood.
He gripped the back of her head as his gaze darkened, tilting her until her throat was bared, arched to his touch. Before she knew what he had planned, he swept his tongue from her collarbone to her jaw in a long languid trail of heat. He nipped the underside of her jaw as a final measure. It was the most erotic sensation she’d ever encountered. She groaned as he settled close to her ear.
“Consider yourself marked, lady,” he murmured against her skin.
She shivered in his hold, unable to stop the response and almost scared not to. “Bram, you don’t have to do this. I understand.” Her breath hitched with a pulsing reaction as he nipped her ear. Trying to give him his freedom was killing her, especially since he seemed to be missing the obvious effort entirely.
“No, you don’t, because I’m just beginning to.” He sighed against the column of her neck. “Roman pointed out a few things for me,” he told her tenderly.
“He was really here?” she asked as she fought to control the racing shivers that stole over her. She thought she had imagined his rough, concerned words.
“Yesterday morning, for just a few minutes.”
“But Delilah?”
He kneaded the back of her head. “That’s why he couldn’t stay.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “He loves you very much and wanted to see how you were. News travels fast in your family’s grapevine.”
Her shoulders sagged in disappointment. “He’s using you. I won’t kill myself. I’m too tired and sore to try. Just leave, Bram. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Selene…” His gaze was dark, mesmerizing as he stared at her. “You have no idea what I’ve been through the last two days. Hell, for the last week, but I admitted something to myself this morning after holding you all night, whether you want to believe it or not, I do care. Maybe not enough to be your mate as Roman tried to point out, but you do matter.” She watched as his eyes began to glitter with heat. “So, do I need to mark you again? Because I could really get into that.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she cleared her throat, actually feeling a little shy.
“Really? Maybe, you should, you know, practice? Because I could help you with it.” Her grin was obliterated with a moan as he did just that.
NINE
A few minutes after a thorough marking lesson, he carried her wrapped body into the living room. He set her on the couch tucking her under an extra blanket to rest while he cleaned up in the kitchen. She flipped through channels on the TV but there wasn’t anything to catch her interest for long. She scooted forward as he slid behind her, pulling her back against him to rest in comfort against his chest. She closed her eyes as the warmth of his body enveloped her, his arms wrapping around her to hold her gently, conscious of her body’s aches and soreness. He lifted her hands, checking them and satisfied, set them back down.
“So why don’t you tell me how this happened?” He caressed the back of her hands with his thumbs sending sparks up and down her spine with the casual touch.
“I don’t know where to start,” she admitted.
“Tell me this first. When did you take the painting down?” he asked, a soft undercurrent in his words that vibrated through his chest, something that said he knew why.
“Tuesday night, after you left.”
“But I didn’t see you,” he argued lowly. Just strong enough to deny but not enough to call her a liar.
“Bram, I don’t know how to convince you, but yes, you did.”
She felt as his head fell forward, his arms tightening as he railed against reality. His tension became a palpable force.
“It’s all right,” she finally said. “I can’t expect you to believe or to understand.”
He shifted, pulling her closer. “Roman had said it was your secret to tell. The meat. The fast healing. Did he mean what I think he meant?” It was a low voiced question, edging on a quiver of apprehension.
“Tell me,” she whispered, too scared to hope.
His head shifted, facing the wall with the blank space. “That was really you,” he breathed. “All those years ago. The day of the wreck.” He faced forward again his breath brushing against her ear.
“The other night.”
“Are you asking, or saying?” she whispered.
“I wish I knew,” he admitted. “Why can’t you tell me I’m wrong, or just prove me right?”
“Because I won’t. I can’t prove you wrong, and I won’t lead you to where you don’t want to go.”
He took a deep breath. “And if I want to know? Want to see the real you?”
“Bram…” It was a helpless feeling, being torn between two worlds.
“Prove me right, Selene,” he whispered into her ear, a soft caress that coursed through her. 76
Terror kept her from swimming head first into the joy his words brought. “Only my mate should see me that way.”
She felt his first hesitation, but it was short lived. “One step at a time.”
“It’s a huge risk for me.”
“Because you’re hurt?” he asked, instantly concerned.
“No. Because I have to trust you.”
His head rested against her, rubbing his cheek over her hair. “Selene, no matter what happens, you can always and forever trust me.”
She took a deep breath and felt his encouragement. “All right, but if you faint, I can’t help you.”
Or me.
She rose unsteadily to her feet, leaving the blanket he covered her with and the one he had wrapped her up in on the couch. She felt slightly flushed as his gaze took in her body, sweeping over her bruised and sore shape. And still finding her desirable.
Holding her weight on one leg, she searched for the inner warmth and prayed she wasn’t too weak to do it, in either direction. She called on the heat, feeling it bloom through her, feeling for her heart, listening to the changing tempo. She closed her eyes, gasping as pain seared through her, engulfed her, but it was too late to stop. Stopping would only prolong her agony. When she had changed before, she had been delirious with pain. The pain the change had created on her wounded body hadn’t been a drop of water in a bucket.
This time her body argued and made sure she knew it. She was panting by the time she rested on four paws, looking up at a still and pale Bram.
Damn! She knew it. She closed her eyes as her head fell. She’d laid herself on the line, and lost. Her leg throbbed, ached. She’d forgotten about the stitches. They didn’t take the transformation as well. She’d never been injured like this before. She knew if this was any indication, she wouldn’t forget again anytime soon.
As she watched him, her pain was nothing compared to the blank, still quiet stare she was receiving. It was too late. She was tired and would need to rest before she could change, at least a few minutes. Then the fact that Bram knew would have to be dealt with.
Her head sagged further and her tail brushed the floor in dejection. She was taken by surprise when he slid from the couch to kneel in front of her.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently.
Her head picked up as her heart thundered in her chest, scared to really hope. His hand slowly stretched out and sank into her ruff, and her eyes closed in pure enjoyment. Her tail twitched o
nce, twice and he laughed.
“You’re absolutely incredible,” he said as his smile broadened. “Can you understand me?” She caught his gaze and clicked her teeth.
His laugh was tremulous. “I remember that. All those years ago, it was you I saw.” She lifted her head to rub against his arm. “I really thought after I’d seen you at the creek, I’d turned you into a vision.”
There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but couldn’t.
“Can I touch you, feel you?” he asked, his gaze filled with wonder.
She carefully moved forward limping on her back leg, and waited. She arched as his hands rubbed down her spine, heard his murmur of pleasure as his fingers brushed through her coat. He sighed with discovery as he brushed his face against her.
“You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known,” he told her. Her tail wagged again. She wasn’t too proud for an occasional compliment. “There’s so much to ask, to say,” he said a few minutes later.
“Can you change back?”
She dropped her head, shaking it, then looked back at her injured leg.
“It hurt?” he asked her instantly, concerned as his fingers brushed over her tender lower leg. He nodded when she clicked her teeth. “Selene, I had no idea. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
She pushed her nose against him. She didn’t know it would hurt either. He turned to face her. “Will rest help?” He smiled when she clicked again. “Good thing I finally figured out your language,” he teased her. “Can you walk?”
She made a good attempt, but after two hobbling steps he picked her up and carried her. If she’d been able, she would have died of mortification. No one had ever lifted her in that form. He set her down for a brief minute, stripping the bed and laying out a clean sheet set, saying,
“Your bed is ruined, but it will make it a couple more nights.”
Her head was sagging with fatigue again when he finally lifted her to lay her down on the bed. She was surprised and warmed as he stretched out along her back. When he draped an arm over her she dropped a paw over his wrist and felt his chuckle.
A Trust Earned Page 11
