Blood Vow (Black Dagger Legacy #2)(36)

There was some initial resistance as she shut the door and tried to walk off with him, but then he followed. At least until she got to the foot of the curving staircase.

“We’re going upstairs,” she said, pulling on his hand. “I have a first aid kit in my room. And I also have my schedule for next semester up there.”

“You don’t have it on your phone? And come on, we don’t need to make a big deal about this—”

“Scared?”

Axwelle stopped short, and the glower that hit his face made his eyes glow. “Of what.”

“You tell me. Because I can’t figure out why you don’t want to go upstairs.”

With a curse under his breath, he took the steps two at a time, and Elise found herself smiling a little as she jogged behind him.

“So what happened to your face?” she asked his huge shoulders.

“Nothing.”

“FYI, if you’re going to lie to try to get me off the scent, at least make it believable. We’re not heading for a Band-Aid because ‘nothing’ happened.”

“It’s none of your business, how ’bout that. And Christ, I’m getting really tired of telling you people that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Big house,” he commented as they came to the second floor and he looked at the hall that went off in both directions. “How many rooms?”

“Really.” She put her hands on her hips. “That’s your next best?”

His stare locked on hers, and as he leaned in, his incredible size and power registered—but not in a threatening way.

More in a way that made her eyes flick down to his mouth for a split second.

“I’m not talking about it to you,” he said. “If you want to play nurse, that’s fine. But just because you’re insisting on mopping me up, doesn’t mean you’re due some kind of explanation. Are we clear?”

Elise looked at him for a long moment. They were dangerously close to getting off on a seriously wrong foot. And if she lost him? If he decided to walk out on her?

She didn’t want to give her father an excuse to rethink his decision.

Answer the damn house question, she told herself. Get on neutral ground.

“I don’t know how many rooms we have.” She cursed under her breath as she went to the left. “Maybe forty? Fifty? Something like that. My father built it in nineteen ten.”

She was very aware of him behind her, sensing that body of his. His presence. His aura.

In fact, she found herself walking differently, her hips moving from side to side more, her shoulders shifting. She had no idea how she knew this … but she was sure he was measuring the shape of her ass, her thighs. Then again, it was exactly what she did—what she was doing—to him.

“Here’s my room.”

Opening the way in, she resisted the urge to Vanna White the exotic objects in the room, like the bed!, the vanity!, this beautiful desk!, the wallpaper!

What was it about physical attraction that turned even the smartest people into babbling idiots?

“My bath is in here.” She indicated the way through the open double doors. Like he might have no frickin’ clue what the marble space was. “Come with me.”

Inside, the mirror over the double sinks gave her a wide-angle view of him as he stopped in between the doorjambs and proceeded no farther.

“Just give me something to wipe the blood off.” His eyes moved over the claw-foot tub, the glassed-in shower in the corner, the banks of windows that were dark. “I’ll take care of it.”

His huge mass and all the black clothes were completely out of place among the pale marble and the crystal and gold accents—and a shiver of thrill went through her. He was standing in a place she was naked in on a regular basis.

She wasn’t sure why this occurred to her or even seemed so erotic. But it did.

Elise pulled a monogrammed hand towel off a gold bar and cranked on the gold faucet. Putting her fingers under the rush, she waited for the water to—

“It doesn’t need to be warm,” he muttered.

It seemed silly to argue with him. So she just stood there until the temperature was right, and then wet the terry cloth.

“Just give it to me,” he demanded as he held out his hand.

Squeezing the excess free, she went over and put the towel into his palm. “Be careful—whoa! What are you doing?”

Well, that was obvious. He was trying to scrub off that whole side of his face.

She grabbed his forearm, and as he recoiled, like she’d surprised him, she took advantage of the reaction and snatched the towel back. Yanking him farther into the bathroom, she pushed him down onto the bench by the tub. Stepping in close, she batted his hands out of the way and went to work properly.

“How’d this happen?” She dabbed with care. “It doesn’t look dirty. Who hit you and is he still alive?”

Axwelle’s response? A jaw that ground his lower molars into his top ones—like he was having a conversation with someone in his head. Her? Or the person he’d fought with?

Probably her.

“You can tell me, you know.” Elise went over to the sink again and rinsed out the towel. Came back. “I’m not going to judge.”

Leaning in still closer, she focused on the laceration. “I think this is going to need stitches. It’s deep and wide? Can you see out of this eye?”