Jacques could feel her trembling beside him. It worried him that he had inadvertently forced her into a position of accepting too many new things at one time. His hand cupped the nape of her neck, dragged her close, the black eyes burning down into hers. “No one will ever harm you. Not ever. They may attempt to do so, but they will not survive.” He took a deep breath before his confession. “I was not aware that you were not Carpathian. I was not capable of knowing much at all at that time. I inadvertently converted you. I would like to say I am sorry, but in truth, I am not. I did not know what I was doing, and I hope I would have done it differently had I known better, but you are my life, Shea. There is no existence for me without you. I would have nothing to live for except revenge, and I would become the undead. I do not want to be vampire, preying on humans and Carpathians alike. You are my salvation.”
She pushed him away from her. The rain swept over her face as she lifted emerald eyes filled with laughter to his. “That’s it? That’s your big apology? I can see you’re not going to be a candy-and-flowers man.” She set off quickly. “Don’t talk to me, you uncivilized maniac. I don’t even want to hear the sound of your voice.”
Jacques forced back the smile that seemed so ready to curve his hard mouth. Shea had a way of making even dangerous situations seem a game where laughter was always close at hand. She managed to find ways to make his madness, the terrible, unforgivable way he had treated her at their first meeting, seem casual, “Can I put my arm around you?” Even while his eyes scanned, they held a gleam of merriment.
“You’re talking, I said don’t talk to me.” Shea tried sticking her nose in the air, but it felt ridiculous, and she dissolved into undignified giggles.
His arm curved around her slender waist and locked her under his shoulder. “I am sorry. I did not mean to speak when you asked me not to. Turn here. I’m going to have to carry you up.”
“Don’t talk. You always get your way when you talk.” She walked with him a few more yards and stopped, staring up a sheer cliff face that seemed to go up forever. There had been no division between the forest and the rock face to warn her. “Up what? Not that.” The dark, malevolent feeling had faded away. Whoever it was no longer was watching them. She could tell.
“I feel another argument coming on.” His mocking amusement might not have shown on his face, but she could feel it in her mind. Jacques simply lifted her and tossed her over his shoulder.
“No way, you wild man. You aren’t Tarzan. I don’t like heights. Put me down.”
“Close your eyes. Who is Tarzan? Not another male, I hope.”
The wind rushed over her body, and she could feel them moving fast, so fast the world seemed to blur. She closed her eyes and clutched at him, afraid to do anything else. His laughter was happy and carefree, and it warmed her heart, dispelling any residue of fear she carried. It was a miracle to her that he could laugh, that he was happy.
Tarzan is the ultimate male. He swings through trees and carries his woman off into the jungle.
He patterns himself after me.
She nuzzled his back. He tries.
He could hear the love in her voice, the tenderness, and his heart turned over. They had a long way to go before knowing one another fully, before accepting one another, but the love between them was growing stronger with every moment they were together.
* * *
Chapter Eleven
Contents – Prev | Next
The passage into the cave was so narrow, Shea had to hold her breath to squeeze through. It seemed to go on forever, the rough walls scraping her skin, the oppressive feelings of tons of rock over her head, surrounding her body, waiting to crush her. She couldn’t look at Jacques, who had somehow made his large body thin and weird looking. Carpathians were capable of doing things she didn’t want to think about. How had she gotten herself into this mess?