Predatory (Immortal Guardians #3.5)(83)

“No.” She added nothing more. Nor did she move away, sitting close behind him on the bed.

Richart found himself at a loss. He didn’t know how to do this. How to reveal all of his secrets. How to coax a human into accepting him without fear or loathing. A human whose scorn he couldn’t bear to face.

“Why won’t you look at me?” she asked.

Richart rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping it would help clear his head and ease the pain it housed. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?”

“Tried to find a way to tell the woman I love that I’m not human.”

She drew in a sharp breath.

“Tried to find the right words to convince her not to fear me or revile me after letting her see me at my worst, covered in blood, with my damned eyes glowing and my fangs bared. What you must think of me . . .” Rising shakily, he braced a hand on the wall.

“Are you okay?”

He winced. “My head is f**king killing me.” He cupped his throbbing forehead in a palm. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to speak so crudely.”

“I’ve said worse, stuck in traffic.”

His lips twitched. Only Jenna could make him smile when things looked so damned grim. It was one of the reasons he loved her despite all of the monumental obstacles littering their path. “You know what the ironic thing is?”

“What?”

“If this battle had not taken place, I would have told you everything last night.”

The bedding rustled as Jenna rose on the other side of the bed.

“I know it sounds like I’m just saying that to cover my ass, but it was your night off. If we couldn’t be alone here, I was going to boot Sheldon out of my place and . . .” He shook his head. “I wanted so badly to make love to you, but didn’t feel right doing so without first telling you the truth.”

Jenna circled the bed and stood no more than a foot away from him. “Is that why you held back whenever we . . . ?”

“Kissed?” He studied her beautiful face, following the lovely line of her neck down to her full br**sts. “Touched?” Despite the lethargy that plagued him, Richart felt his pulse leap and his body harden as memories of slipping his hands beneath her shirt, unfastening her bra, and filling his palms with that soft, silky flesh flitted through his mind. Dragging the cloth up and closing his lips over the tights buds. Hearing her moan and feeling her clutch him tightly in response.

Squeezing his eyes closed, he turned his head aside.

“Richart? What’s wrong? Is it your head?”

He shook his head. “It’s my eyes.”

“Are they hurting?”

This was so not the time for his nature to assert itself. “No, it’s . . .” A huff of frustration escaped him. “They glow when I’m in the grips of strong emotion and—trust me when I say I realize now is not the time for this—but just the thought of making love with you . . .”

He jumped when her small, cool fingers touched his jaw and turned his face back toward her.

“Let me see,” she coaxed.

He did as bidden.

Her hazel eyes brightened, illuminated by the amber glow emanating from his own.

She raised her other hand, cupped his face in both, and studied him with such painful intensity that he forgot to breathe. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered.

A lump rose in his throat. “Don’t fear me, Jenna.”

Amusement lit her features. “It’s kind of hard to be afraid of a vampire who apologizes for using harsh language in front of a lady.”

Could he really be so lucky? “I’m not a vampire.”

“And I’m not a lady.” She motioned to the bed. “Stop worrying about how I’ll react, sit down before you fall down, and explain all of this to me.” She started to step back, then paused. “Wait. Scratch that. I need to do something first.” Slipping her arms around his waist, she pressed her face to his chest and hugged him close.

Heart pounding, Richart wrapped his arms around her.

“There was a moment last night,” she murmured, “when I thought you were dead. You lost consciousness and your chest stopped rising. I couldn’t find a pulse.” Her hold tightened. “I’ve only felt that overwhelming despair and helplessness once in my life, when police showed up at my door and told me John’s father had been killed in a car accident.” She burrowed closer, her breath warm on his chest. “I don’t ever want to feel that way again.”

Richart buried his face in her hair. “I’m sorry.”

Many long moments passed while they clung to each other.

Sighing, Jenna loosened her hold and looked up at him. “Feelings that deep aren’t going to dissolve overnight because I found out your eyes are prettier and your teeth are sharper than I thought they were.”

Richart dipped his head and captured her lips with his own, pouring everything he felt into the contact until both were breathless.

When she placed a hand on his chest and applied gentle pressure, he reluctantly withdrew.

“I need you to explain everything to me before we get too distracted.”

Nodding, he sank onto the bed, stretched his legs out, and leaned back against the headboard, then pulled her down beside him, catching and holding her hand.