“You really are a brutal animal with no thought for anyone but yourself,” she whispered, pressing her hands to her burning face. “And I care nothing for you. I feel nothing for you.”
His hand caught and spanned her throat, his thumb forcing her chin up so that she met his blazing golden eyes: “I could make you my slave, Alexandria, teach you to please me in far more ways than you envisioned.” Deliberately his thumb feathered across her trembling mouth.
Alexandria could feel tears burning in her eyes even as her body burst into flame, into need. Aidan was right. She had no thoughts, no resistance, when he touched her; she was only a body drowning in desire, going up on flames. There was nothing left of her, of who she was or what she stood for. Never had a man been able to control her before. Whatever Aidan Savage had made her, she was no longer Alexandria Houton.
Aidan’s mind sought hers, and instantly the anger in him melted away. She was sliding toward shock. Too much had happened too quickly in the last few days for her human mind to assimilate. He cursed his own body, raging for release, causing him to say and do things he would never ordinarily consider. He wanted her with every cell in his body, and just now he had pushed aside her needs for his own. No self-respecting Carpathian male would ever do such a thing. In that moment he realized just how close to turning vampire he really had been. He felt contempt for himself, for his own selfishness and weakness, when she was having such a difficult transition. “Cara, I am sorry. Please do not be afraid of me, of us.” The words were spoken in his most beguiling voice, but they seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Her mind shut down, protected her, spared her from any further ordeal. She turned her face away and slumped onto the bed, curled up in the fetal position. Aidan stood over her, angry with himself, unsure what to do to repair the damage he had caused with his stupidity. He had been so afraid he had lost her in that moment, etched for all time onto his soul, when she had flung open the door and gone willingly into the killing sun.
He could withstand the light, the burning, because he had conditioned himself to do so over time. Now, after centuries of study, he had nearly unlimited powers. One of them was healing. So he closed his eyes and sent himself out of his own body and into hers, finding the terrible burns so deeply seared into her skin, repairing them from the inside out. He was careful and precise, and when he was finished, he moved through her to once more enter her mind.
There he found confusion and terror. A deep fear of not being fully human and a desire to prove that she was. He could find no intent to kill herself. She had simply wanted to prove him a liar, deceiving her into believing she could not reenter her own world. She had wanted it to be so.
He stretched out beside her, gathering her weary body into the protection of his arms. She had reason to be afraid of him. He was demanding things of her she had no conception of, making her feel things she wasn’t ready for. The intensity of her sexual feelings alone was disturbing to her, so much so that she wanted to run from him.
He rested his chin on her head and stroked her silky hair. It disturbed him that she had some crazy idea of going to a human doctor to be cured. Anything but stay with him. On some level he was hurt, but mostly he was amused that she would think she could defeat him, outsmart him. She was so determined. He admired her for that.
“You just need time, piccola. I am sorry for the clumsy way I have handled this situation. My only excuse is my fear for your safety.” He knew she could hear him, but she didn’t respond. He hadn’t really expected her to do so, but he tightened his hold a bit. Sleep now, Alexandria, the healing sleep of our people. Sleep deep. He took no chances, gave her no choice. He wanted her under, away from her own mind, away from the terrible drain of her thoughts and fears.