Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #9)(57)

Her healer burst into the room, and oh, he was just as she had remembered . . . so broad at the chest and long of limb, with a flat stomach and a sharp jawline. His dark hair was sticking straight up, as if he had been running many fingers through it, and he was breathing hard, his mouth slightly parted.

“I knew you were real,” he blurted. “Goddamn it, I knew it!”

The sight of him rocketed through her, energy lighting her up from the inside and tripping her emotions into a free fall. “Healer,” she said hoarsely. “My healer . . .”

“Fucking hell,” she heard her brother say.

Her human spun around on Vishous. “Give us some privacy. Now—”

“Watch your f*cking mouth—”

“I’m her doctor. You brought me here to assess her clinically—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

There was a pause. “Then why the f*ck am I here?”

“For precisely the reason I hate you!”

That ushered in a lot of silence—along with a sob on her part. She was just so glad to see her healer in his strength and his flesh. And her single sniffle whipped both their heads around, her healer’s face changing instantly, going from flat-out fury to driving concern.

“Shut the door behind you,” he barked over his shoulder as he came to her.

Passing her hands across her eyes, she cleared her tears and looked past her healer as he sat on the side of her bed. Vishous had turned away and was going for the exit.

He knew, she thought. More than anything their mother could have done for her, he had brought her the one thing guaranteed to make her want to live.

“Thank you, brother mine,” she said, eyes locked on him.

Vishous stopped. The tension in him was so great, both of his fists were curled in tight, and as his head slowly cranked around, his icy eyes burned.

“I would do anything for you. Anything.”

With that, he pushed his way out . . . and as the door eased shut, she realized that I love you could indeed be said without actually uttering the phrase.

Actions did mean more than words.





TWENTY


As the pair of them were left alone together, Manny couldn’t get enough of looking at his patient. His stare just kept going over her face and her throat and her long, lovely hands. Jesus, she smelled the same, that perfume of hers burrowing into his nose and going straight to his cock.

“I knew you were real,” he repeated. Christ, it probably would have been better to say something else, anything else, but that was all he had, evidently: The relief at the fact that he wasn’t going crazy was just overwhelming.

At least until the luminous sheen of tears in her eyes registered . . . along with bottomless lack of hope in her stare.

He’d done all he could for her, and yet he had failed. Totally.

Although it wasn’t as if he hadn’t guessed her condition before now. That brother of hers hadn’t come into the human world again because shit was going so frickin’ well on this side.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

As he stared into her eyes, she slowly shook her head. “Alas . . . I am . . .”

When she didn’t finish, he reached for her hand and held on to it. God, her skin was soft. “Talk to me.”

“My legs . . . are no better.”

He cursed under his breath. He wanted to do an exam on her and look at her newest X-rays . . . maybe make arrangements to get her into St. Francis for another MRI.

But, as critical as all that assessment stuff was, it could wait. Right now, she was fragile emotionally, and he needed to help her deal with that first.

“No feeling still?” he said.

When she shook her head, a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. He hated that she was crying, but as God was his savior, he had never seen anything so beautiful as those eyes of hers.

“I am . . . e’er to be thus,” she said on a shudder.

“And ‘thus’ to you means precisely what?”

“Here. Upon this bed. Stuck.” Her eyes didn’t just hold his, but reached out and grabbed them. “I cannot countenance this torture. Not for a night more.”

She was dead f*cking serious, and for a split second, he felt a terror that cut right through to his soul. Maybe in another female . . . or male, for that matter . . . a statement like that might have been an emotional release of despair. For her? It was a plan.

“You got Internet around here?” he asked.

“Internet?”

“A computer with access to the Web.”

“Ah . . . I believe there is one in the larger room beyond. Through that other door.”

“I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

That got a half smile. “Wherever shall I go, healer?”

“That’s what I’m going to show you.”

As he stood up, he had to resist the urge to kiss her, and he hurried out to make sure he didn’t. It took no time at all to find the Dell in question and get signed in with the help of a rather attractive blond nurse who introduced herself as Elena. Ten minutes later, he came back to Payne’s room and paused in the doorway.

She was fixing her hair, her hands trembling as she smoothed the crown of her head and felt down the length of her braid as if searching for defects.