Her eyes fell on the floor in front of the mini-refrigerator, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Obviously, someone had tried to wash away blood, and had managed to remove the worst of it, but there was still a large, faint stain. Turning back to Lucern, Kate tugged the blankets down.
A sob surprised her by breaking from her throat at the sight of his unmarred chest. Both relieved and amazed, she ran the tips of her fingers lightly over the perfect skin there, then she closed her eyes and tried to calm her wildly beating heart. He was alive!
A warm hand closed over hers, and Kate opened her eyes again. Lucern was awake, and he peered at her and clasped her hand.
"You saved my life," he said solemnly. "Thank you."
Kate glanced away, her gaze finding the closet and the empty floor in front of it. "The man who attacked you—"
"I cleared his mind and sent him home."
She stared at him in horror. "Sent him home? He attacked you."
"I could hardly call the police and try to explain the situation," Lucern pointed out. He shrugged, then added, "Besides, he wasn't well. His mind is… wrong."
"Why did he attack you? Was he at the conference? Does he—"
"No, he wasn't a conference attendee. He lives here in the city. Apparently, his wife was a big romance fan. When she left him, he wanted someone to blame it on. He decided it was all those books she was reading." He shrugged. "He started reading them for himself, and when he got to mine, he got the idea that I was a vampire. He saw our picture in the paper and knew that I was in town, and he decided that I had taken control of his wife's mind and lured her away from him. He began to believe that if he could just destroy me, her mind would be set free. He believed she would come back to him."
Kate stared at Lucern, her thoughts racing. He sounded so understanding.
She had felt helpless and useless last night, and had suffered a great sense of loss at the possibility that he might be dead—more loss than was appropriate for one of her writers. There was really no use fighting it anymore. Kate knew her feelings for this man ran deep. She had thought him brilliant and talented before ever meeting him, had found him surly and rude on arriving at his home, then had seen other sides of him slowly show themselves, like the legs, arms and head of a turtle. She had come to see that the hard shell he showed the world was just that, a shell, a shield meant to protect himself. He was smart and strong, but he was also compassionate and kind. A man had nearly killed him, and yet Lucern found it in his heart to feel sorry for him. She heard the compassion in his voice. It was as soft and open as his expression. His shield seemed to be missing entirely this morning, and she had no idea why. She almost wished it weren't so. Perhaps then she would be able to battle the wealth of feelings welling up within her.
"Kate?"
Her eyes refocused on his face.
"How is your head?" he asked. "I saw you hit it on the clothing rod before I lost consciousness last night."
"My head is in bad shape," she told him solemnly.
Concern entered his gaze. "It is?" He sat up and reached for her, his fingers running gently over the back of her head. "I took a look last night, but there wasn't much of a bump. I thought…" He fell silent when she placed her hand against his chest where the stake had been. The bedding pooled around his waist, leaving endless flesh bare to her view.
He looked fine. Still, Kate knew he would need to replenish the blood used to repair his body. She would also have to replace the bags of blood the attacker had destroyed. Luc needed enough to see him through the rest of the conference. It was Saturday morning, six a.m, she saw with a glance at the bedside clock. There was only that day and the next to get through—but Lucern had been injured and would need a large infusion. She was willing to offer him her own. Unlike last night, this time it would be a pleasure to give it. He would make sure of that, she knew. Her fingers moved across his chest of their own accord.
His skin was slightly cool to the touch—not the cold flesh of a corpse, but a degree or two cooler than her own. It felt nice. Kate almost felt as if she were suffering a temperature, but knew her overheated flesh had nothing to do with ill health and everything to do with the naked man in bed next to her. She was pretty sure he was naked. She had learned that first morning that he slept in the nude, and she vaguely recalled her legs scraping bare skin as she had shifted this morning. Of course, he might be wearing jockey shorts or something.
Lucern caught her wayward hand in his, ending her mental debate as to whether he was naked. Kate dragged her gaze from his lap where it had drifted. He caught her eyes with his own, held them as he raised her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm.
Kate's breath caught. His caress caused a tingling in her palm that ran up her arm, eliciting from her a small shiver.
"Does your head hurt very badly?" he asked.
Kate slowly shook her head. "That's not what I meant by its being in bad shape, Luc."
"Then, what… ?"