Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel #4)(29)

Had she ever seen anything more beautiful? She really didn't think so. Her eyes quickly took in his tanned muscular chest, ropes of muscle and perfectly sculpted abs. Okay, so maybe she took a moment between tremors to appreciate the sight before her. She was human after all. Thankfully another tremor tore through her body, helping her to focus.

“What are you doing?” she asked, hating the way her voice shook.

“Body heat,” was all he said as he pulled back the covers of the small double bed and climbed in beside her.

It took her a moment to register what he’d said and when it did she was moving to climb off the bed. Unfortunately for her, he was a lot faster than her and had her yanked back into his arms before she could put up a proper fight. Of course, once she felt the delicious heat that he was giving off she didn't want to fight it anymore.

With a little grumble and a grunt, she turned in his arms and plastered herself against him. She ignored his hiss of surprise as she pressed her cool cheek against his shoulder. If he hadn't invited himself into her bed she might have felt bad, but then again, she wouldn't even be in this mess if he hadn't ditched her ass today. This was his fault, she reminded herself as she placed her cold hand on his chest and nearly smiled when he released another hiss.

“Better?” he asked, sounding almost concerned, but she knew that he really wasn't. He was probably doing this out of guilt more than anything. Marta was mad at him and he was probably being nice to her to earn his sister's forgiveness.

If she hadn’t already known that Christofer was the one that owned the house and had the money she would have suspected that he was using his much older sister. She'd seen it enough times to recognize the signs. She hated when relatives who didn't give a damn showed up occasionally just to get on the good side of the elderly person she was working for to gain a spot in their wills. It was sickening and she was glad that it wasn't going on here. She really liked Marta, probably more than she'd liked any of her previous employers, and she didn't want to see her hurt.

The real reason, and something that actually stunned her once she’d realized what was going on here, was that Christofer genuinely cared about his sister even if he was lazy about showing it. In a way it was actually kind of odd. The two of them acted as though they'd been raised together when they had be at least fifty years apart. Sometimes Marta treated Christofer like the older sibling. That is, when she wasn't going out of her way to torment her brother. It was a little odd, but she'd seen odder things over the years.

“Go to sleep, Cloe. You're safe,” Christofer said, earning a snort from her.

Yeah, right. Like she'd be able to sleep. She knew it would be several days before she managed to fall asleep. She'd be too damn afraid to close her eyes, but she appreciated the offer all the same and of course the body heat.

She snuggled tightly against him as her eyes began to droop, noting that she felt oddly safe in his arms.

Chapter 11

“What's wrong, Christofer?” Marta asked, appearing concerned as he made his way quickly down the stairs.

“Everything is fine. I'll be back in a minute. Grab your purse,” he said, desperately struggling against the urge to go back upstairs and rip into Cloe's neck.

If he didn't get downstairs within the next minute he knew there would be nothing to stop the monster inside of him from taking over. Holding her in his arms all night had been heaven and hell for him. Being that close to someone was something he usually never allowed for himself. He'd pleasured women before, but he'd never been able to relax his guard enough to hang around long enough to hold them afterwards or cared enough to do it. The only woman he'd ever cared about was Marta.

When they’d first escaped the camp, she'd been scared, traumatized, and in no shape to face the world alone. Every night he’d held her in his arms, singing all those songs that used to annoy him, but that she loved. He sang them until his voice was raw and she was sleeping deeply. Whenever she woke up in the middle of the night, he started all over again. He did that until she was a grown woman and no longer needed him.

Before he’d made his promise to Marta, he’d resigned himself to seeking a temporary escape in the arms of women. No matter how many women he’d pleasured, he couldn't escape the bitter loneliness or the creeping sensation that always reminded him that he couldn't trust them. He couldn't trust anyone but Marta and that knowledge made it damn difficult to focus on the woman begging for more. More often than not, old panic would surge through him as he tried to take a woman and he'd have no choice but to leave. It was the main reason why he hadn't sought out a woman to warm his bed in over fifty years.

Last night while he’d held Cloe in his arms he’d willed her to fall asleep before the panic could take over and force him to flee her bed, but it never came. Instead, he found himself enjoying the feel of her in his arms. While she’d slept, he took his time studying her face, running his fingers carefully through her hair and breathing in her unique scent. Until a few hours ago he’d been able to ignore how enticing her blood was, but once hunger hit, it had become a struggle that he’d almost lost several times.

The sun hadn't been able to rise fast enough for him. When the cravings began a few short hours ago, he should have just left to save himself the torture of being near her and not being able to have her, but he hadn't been able to forget the fear that he saw in her eyes last night. That alone kept him in her bed and his arms wrapped around her. When the sun had risen high enough that he’d felt it was safe to leave her, he hadn't been able to get away fast enough.