Page 13 of You Give Me Fever

“Yes, I can see that right now!” She took up her struggle again, but her body was too weak to do anything against his huge form. “How dare you put your hands on me after you… put your hands on me!”

“I seem to recall, Miss Bailey, that you were more than willing —“

“You weren’t real!” She thrashed harder, only because going still would mean having to meet those glowing eyes. “Having a fantasy is one thing, but being preyed upon by a monster is another matter entirely!”

“I hardly need remind you, you enjoyed⁠—”

“YOU! WERE! NOT! REAL!” she struggled in his grip. Had she really believed she was only seeing visions? Deep down, hadn’t she thought something bigger was going on? It hardly mattered now. She had worked up a good rage, and she hadn’t had one in so long that she reveled in it.

“Why would that have been better?!” he glared into her eyes, trying not to become distracted by how warm she was under his hands, how he could feel her pulse along every inch of her skin, how her lovely face was flushed with the fever and her run and her anger at him—gods below, how he wanted to kiss her anger away, whatever her protests. “Why would you be so willing to offer your touch to an imaginary phantom... but not someone real?”

She fixed her dark eyes on his, teeth clenched, her body quaking with rage. Had she allowed herself to look closer, which she dared not do, she would have found some other hot, slick, buzzing feeling equally responsible.

“You do not know me,” she said.

“I know all about you, Clara,” said Shiver, releasing one of her wrists so he could trail his fingers along her pink cheek.

To have this now, feeling her delicious body beneath his, even warmer than ever, to touch her cheek and really feel his fingers against her skin, little ridges as if he had fingerprints again, each pad of his finger registering the pillowy satin softness of her face—now, when she looked at him with such fury—it was exquisite torture.

Shiver couldn’t help himself. The girl might never allow it again, so he had to take one last kiss. He leaned in to press her lips with his, pushing her gently back against the grass. How his body raged for more of her, his hands just itching to rip the clothes from her and touch every inch of her mouthwatering curves.

Then the slap met his face and snapped his head to one side with an inelegant woof. Clara rolled away from him and took off for home.

“Stay away from me!” she called over her shoulder.

Shiver couldn’t help a low laugh as he rubbed at his face. Pain, how refreshing. He had missed pain. This girl was a keeper.

“I can’t,” he said, mostly to himself as he let her get away for the moment. “I’m your fever.”

Chapter

Six

EVERY DAY YOU ACT WORSE, BUT TODAY YOU’RE ACTING LIKE TOMORROW

Shiver was Below, relaxing in the hot spring, which, if the scent of sulfur didn’t bother one, was terribly comfortable. Water hot enough to flay the skin off a sinner, as was its original purpose. Soaking was, for Shiver, an excellent way to cover up a sulk. He could appear thoughtful, at ease, even just sleepy, and none of his cohorts might know the emotional slapping he had just taken.

Or the physical slapping.

“Having a good sulk, are we?” Frenzy appeared beside him, a little too close for a work colleague, leaning back against the red stone and grinning.

“Don’t tempt me to bless this water and take us both down,” said Shiver as he moved a few feet away.

Frenzy kept smiling, but offered no immediate volley. They let the gentle bubbling of the water fill in for conversation for a moment, but Shiver knew his companion wouldn’t be silent for long.

“That farm girl giving you any trouble?”

Shiver huffed out a breath through what had once been his nose. Trouble, yes. That girl was trouble walking.

“She’s not a farm girl; she’s a --” he stopped himself. What a fool he was being. He had no idea what she really wanted from her life. He had no idea what her dreams were. He was breaking from the inside out for this problematic doxy, and the most he knew about her was how delicious she looked when he made her come. “No, no trouble. Still as ill as ever.”

And as stubborn as ever, as contrary, as grating, as beautiful, as perfect, as kissable...

Frenzy didn’t need to hear these thoughts said aloud; he could read them as plainly as a newspaper. He clucked his tongue and leaned further back in the bubbling water.

“Well, I don’t mind telling you, I’m relieved to hear it, old man,” he said. “The grumbling I’ve been hearing from further Below was getting worrisome. But I’ll tell them you’re getting on just fine.”

Shiver bristled. He knew Frenzy had crafted each word to best prickle at his skin, but the threat was impossible to ignore. If he was being sincere about even a word of that... Shiver had a flawless track record. Every fever demon had to, for their first failure —their first recovered human—meant a slow and agonizing death by starvation.