Lucien struggled to find something to break the tension between them, but words failed him. He’d never been one for conversation, and he certainly hadn’t done much conversing with the women in his past. However, he found himself desperate to break this friction so she would smile at him again.
Unfortunately, he came up with nothing. Pushing himself off the bed, he rose and walked into the bathroom to shower. Frustration mounting, he kicked the door shut behind him.
It felt as if a hand split open her chest and gripped her heart when the bathroom door banged shut. She stared at it for a minute before flipping through the channels until she found a rerun ofThe Office.
She’d seen the episode a dozen times already, but she couldn’t handle the news, and she needed some laughs. However, despite her love of the show, she didn’t think she would laugh much right now.
They were finally somewhere safe, her adrenaline was ebbing, and all she had left was reality. And that reality told her she had nothing left.
She closed her eyes against a wave of grief. She couldn’t give in to her despair now; if she did, she would start crying and never stop.
And she would not let Lucien see her cry. Looking to distract herself, she scooted back on the large, queen-size bed and rested against the wooden headboard.
Unlike the motel office, this room was far more modern. The pale peach of the walls emphasized the bright colors in the landscape paintings on the wall. Mounted to the wall above a new, oak dresser hung a flat-screen TV. A small refrigerator sat to the left of the dresser.
She listened to Lucien as he finished brushing his teeth, and when the shower turned on, she rose and walked over to the cooler. She was surprised to discover the beer on top, but she slid it into the fridge along with a couple of waters. Another sandwich was tucked inside, along with a couple of bags of chips. It had been a while since she ate, but the idea of food made her stomach churn, and not in a good way.
She placed the sandwich in the fridge and took a bottle of water before retreating to the bed. The idea of sleeping in this bed with him caused her heart to race, but the small armchair in the corner didn’t look inviting, and she was not in the mood for the floor.
It hadn’t been long since she last slept in a bed, but it felt like forever, and she couldn’t lose the opportunity. Unfortunately, that meant sleeping beside him all night again when she’d prefer to get as far away as possible.
She set the water on the nightstand and focused on the TV, but she didn’t see what was happening. Instead, all she kept seeing was Lucien’s arms around that woman as she released that sound again.
She longed to clap her hands over her ears to block it out, but that woman’s moan was ingrained in her mind. What would have happened if she wasn’t there?
She could well imagine, and she didn’t want to as it only made her more jealous, and she despised the feeling. She didn’t care what he did or with who; all she cared about was surviving.
Ten minutes later, the water shut off, and she listened as he moved around the bathroom. Her throat went dry as she pictured him in there, naked. Excitement raced through her veins, but when she recalled him feeding on the desk clerk, all her excitement vanished.
Something clattered, and the sink water turned on. She glanced at the red numbers on the clock. It was almost midnight, and it was another ten minutes before the door opened.
Even as she commanded herself not to look at him, her eyes darted in his direction, and her breath sucked in. Her fingers twisted in the bedspread as a million thoughts raced through her head; most of them were X-rated.
It was as if an entirely different man stepped out of that bathroom. And in a way, she supposed he was. The man she first encountered desperately needed blood.
This man had recently fed, was no longer covered in grime, had already put on weight, and no longer sported a beard over the bottom half of hisgorgeousface. She’d seen plenty of good-looking men in person, on movie screens, and in the pages of magazines, but none of them compared to the Adonis standing across from her.
It was unfair. All she wanted was to distance herself from him, and there he was, a walking, talking, sex-on-a-stick temptation that had her nearly drooling. The more she tried to tear her eyes away, the more they remained riveted on his square jaw, entirely too kissable lips, broad chest, and abs she could bounce a quarter off.
No, it was entirely unfair that he looked so good when he was the worst road she could ever travel. It was bad enough she was entangled in this mess; she couldn’t make matters worse by getting involved with this vamp.
With that reminder firmly in mind, she shifted her attention back to the TV as a commercial came on. Lucien padded toward the bed and sat on the other side of it. He stared at the phone on the nightstand while Callie remained unmoving on the other side of the bed.
Now that they were somewhere safe, there was no reason for him not to call Ronan, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone. He hadn’t become a Savage, but he’d been close, and if he’d grabbed one of those other women first, he would have killed them.
He was thinking a lot clearer now that he’d showered and jerked off. He would have preferred to be inside her, but at least he’d found some release from the pressure in his shaft.
With that release, and the influx of fresh blood from the motel clerk, he could think better. And as he scrubbed himself, he contemplated his intense attraction to her and his overwhelming drive to keep her safe. As he did, a possibility niggled at his brain.
Was she his mate?
At first, he tried to deny it. He didn’t know how the others felt before they found their mates, but it was the last thing he wanted in his life. He was a killer; he thrived on the thrill of the battle and crushing out another’s life.
Killing was what kept him stable and alive. He couldn’t have a mate interfering in his simple, ordered life; it was how he survived. It had taken him a long time to stabilize himself and feel fairly confident he wouldn’t become a Savage; he achieved it by hunting and killing Savages regularly.
He didn’t want anything to interfere with that, not even a mate. And he certainly couldn’t have his life entwined with another’s. Actually, he didn’t want her life intertwined withhis.
His life was brutal; he’d lived this long because he was good at killing, but it was only a matter of time before he lost again. He liked to think he was invincible, but he’d been captured and was only free because of his determination to save her.
