He gave an exasperated sigh and left his clothes to hang against his forearm, then got back on the stretcher and leaned back on his elbows to wait for Tate. As he watched Tate gather supplies, he heard Amanda's heart pounding and her breathing speed up. Felt her keen interest as she raked her gaze over his body. She wanted him, and her hot desire played havoc with him.
Kyrian shifted and wished his jeans were a couple of sizes bigger, since the black denim started biting fiercely into his erection. Damn, he'd forgotten what a literal and figurative pain his body could be when an attractive woman was around.
And she was attractive. What with that charming, elfish face and those big, blue eyes…
He'd always been a fool for blue eyes. Even without looking at her, he knew she was licking those plump, full lips, and his throat went dry as he imagined the taste of them. The feel of her breath on his face and her tongue against his as he kissed her.
Dear gods, and he had thought the Romans had tortured him! Their best interrogator had been an amateur compared to the physical and mental agony her nearness caused him now.
Even more disturbing than her looks was the fact that she had been an amazingly good sport about all of this. Most women would have been screaming in terror of him or crying.
Or both.
But she had met the entire ordeal with a courage and strength of heart he'd not seen in a long time. He actually liked her, and that surprised him most of all. Amanda jumped when Hunter met her gaze. Those deep, black eyes bored into hers and made her hot and breathless.
He lay on the stretcher with one leg bent up and the other hanging over the edge. The black denim hugged his long, powerful body. And those muscled arms…
Lean and defined, he was all masculine beauty. His biceps were flexed as he leaned back on his elbows. She wanted to reach out and touch him so badly that she ached from it. No doubt, he would be rock-hard and satiny underneath her hand.
His shoulders were incredibly broad, with sculpted muscles that promised strength, speed, and agility. His pecs and arms were every bit as well-formed and tight. And his stomach, oh heaven! Those flat abs had been made for nibbling.
Unbidden, her gaze followed the thin trail of coffee-colored hairs that started at his navel and vanished under the tight denim. By the size of the bulge in his jeans, she could tell he was amply endowed, and more than passingly interested in her. The thought made her even hotter.
The deep, golden tan of his flesh defied what she knew him to be. How could a vampire have skin so tawny and inviting?
But even more tantalizing than the lean muscles that beckoned for caresses were the multitude of scars that crossed his flesh. He looked as if he had been clawed by a huge tiger, or beaten within an inch of his life with a whip.
Or both.
Hunter lay down as Tate approached, and she saw a small double-bow-and-arrow symbol branded into his left shoulder. She cringed at the thought of how much such a thing must have hurt, and she wondered if he had agreed to it, or if someone had put it there against his will.
"I take it from your scars that your vampire friends don't think much of you," she said.
"You think?" he retorted.
"Is he always this sarcastic?" she asked Tate.
"Actually, I thought he was being rather nice to you." Tate cleansed the vicious-looking wound with alcohol. He prepared to give Hunter a local.
Hunter caught his hand before Tate could inject him. "Don't bother."
"Why?" Tate asked with a frown.
"I'm immune to it."
Amanda's jaw dropped. Tate just reached for the sutures.
"You can't do that," she said, interrupting him. "He'll feel it."
"He needs that wound closed," Tate insisted. "Jeez, you can see his bones through it."
"Go ahead," Hunter said with a calmness that astounded her. Stunned, she cringed while Tate made the first suture. Hunter kept his jaw locked and said nothing. Amanda watched Tate tend Hunter. Her heart wrenched at the thought of how much pain Hunter must be feeling.
"Doesn't that hurt?" she asked him.
"No," Hunter said between clenched teeth.
Amanda could tell by the way the veins stood out on his neck and the way he clenched his fists that he was lying. "Here," she said, taking his hand in hers. "Just hold tight."
Kyrian started at the softness of her hand in his. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him like that. He'd been a Dark-Hunter for so long that he had all but forgotten simple kindness.
Tate acted out of gratitude and a sense of obligation. But her…
There was no reason for her to hold his hand. He'd barely spoken a civil word to her, and yet she reached out to him when no one else would have. It made him feel strange toward her. Protective. Tender.
More than that, her simple touch scorched him all the way to his caged heart. He swallowed, then stiffened. He couldn't let her close to him. She was a creature of light and he was one of darkness. The two were not compatible.
"So, how long have you been a vampire?" she asked.
"I told you," he said, his jaw tight, "I'm not a vampire. I'm a Dark-Hunter."
"What's the difference?"
Kyrian gave her a hard glare. "The difference is I normally don't kill humans, but if you don't stop quizzing me, I might make an exception."
"You are one seriously testy Creature of the Night."