“I told you to keep your heart rate steady,” he greeted her very softly, the menace strong in his voice. He lifted her in his arms, cradling her against his chest so that her heart immediately began to tune itself to his. “You said you were not afraid of me, honey, yet your pulse is racing.”
“You appeared out of nowhere,” she said defensively, thumping his shoulder with her clenched fist. “I am human, you know.” She looked up at him with large, steady eyes. “Are you human, Dayan?”
He bent his dark head, his teeth very white in the night. “What do you think?” The words were whispered softly against her throat, against her pulse. “Do I feel human to you?” His voice was temptation itself.
Corinne knew better than to listen, she was so easily distracted by the sheer enticement of his voice. Her hands of their own volition found the thick abundance of his hair and tangled in the silky strands. “How do you do that so easily?” she asked, knowing her eyes would have given away her feelings even if he couldn’t read her mind. She loved being with him, everything about him. She wanted to erase that look from the depths of his eyes for all time. The emptiness. The loneliness. “I’m beginning to think you’re bad for my heart, Dayan. You can melt a woman at twenty paces. You can. And you made the weather change.”
Dayan’s mouth continued to explore the soft column of her throat. “I did? I must be very talented. I hope such a feat earned your everlasting admiration.” He sounded slightly distracted, as if it were more important to discover the softness of her skin than to hold a conversation. “You are very tired, Corinne. We ought to start out to meet the healers this night, but I think you need to rest. You have had enough excitement for one evening.”
Her head rested on his shoulder, her long lashes fanning her cheeks. She was tired, more now than ever. As he carried her to the edge of the roof, he moved with such smoothness, she felt as if she were floating. “I loved dancing with you,” she murmured without opening her eyes, enjoying the breeze blowing in her face. “I love the way you move.”
“So I am making progress after all,” he said. He floated with her to the ground easily, his mind fully merged with hers so that he could control her impressions of what was happening, fogging the memory a little at a time so it was slowly fading away. He had wanted to reveal what he was, who he was. He wanted Corinne’s acceptance of him, yet he knew her body was weak, her heart failing. He couldn’t take a chance yet. When she found out the truth, he wanted the healer’s assurance that her heart would withstand the shock. As he drew a hazy veil over the evening’s shocking events, he stressed different memories: his kisses; her response. Retrieving the suitcases, he made sure her seat belt was snug before he pulled the car away from the curb.
Corinne sat quietly on the seat beside him, astonished at how tired she was. The stress of the pregnancy on her body was beginning to tell on her. Dayan was driving carefully through the streets, his fingers entwined with hers. “Isn’t it strange?” she mused. “If someone hadn’t tipped Lisa off that you were playing in that bar, we would never have met.”
“I would have found you.” It was a statement of fact, quietly delivered.
Corinne was silent the rest of the way home. Her mind was pleasantly blank. She was tired and strangely happy just to be in his company. Minutes earlier, she had scented the wildness in him, but now she felt his tranquillity, an utter calmness that seeped deep into her soul. Dayan seemed content to drive through the night, humming softly under his breath. The tune was one she had never heard before. It was hauntingly beautiful.
Lisa was waiting on the small balcony, trying not to look like she was worrying. She watched anxiously while Dayan courteously helped Corinne out of the car. He would have carried her, but Corinne was all too conscious of eyes on them.