Raven could feel it hammering at her insides cruelly. “I’m going to go now so they can help you, Mikhail. You’re getting weaker by the minute.” She bent to kiss his forehead. “I can feel their anxiety.”
He caught her hand. “Put my ring back on your finger.” His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist. “I want you to wear it. It is important to me.”
“All right, Mikhail, but only so you’ll rest. We’ll sort it out when you’re feeling better. Call your friends now. I’ll drive your car back to the inn.” She touched his skin.
He was cold, very cold. Raven pushed the ring back on her finger. He caught at her again. “Do not go near those people. Stay in your room. I will sleep through the day. You rest, and I will come for you in the evening.”
“Very ambitious of you.” Gently she pushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “I think you’ll be in bed for a while.”
“Carpathians heal quickly. Jacques will see you home safely.”
“That really isn’t necessary,” she declined, uneasy in the presence of strangers.
“It is necessary for my peace of mind,” Mikhail said softly, his black eyes imploring her to give in to him. At Raven’s small nod he pushed his luck. “Before you go, please try another glass of juice. It will go a long way to alleviate my worry for you.” He knew by reading her mind that she had tried some juice earlier. Her stomach had rebelled, before the first sip had even passed her lips. He cursed himself for that. He was directly responsible for her body’s rejection of human nutrients. Raven was already far too thin. She couldn’t afford weight loss.
“The smell of it makes me sick,” she admitted, wanting to humor him but knowing it was impossible. “I think I really do have the flu. I’ll try later, Mikhail.”
“I will help you.” He murmured the words softly, his dark eyes clouded with worry. “I need to do this for you. Please, little one, allow me to do this simple thing.”
Behind her, the door opened and his three friends entered. One stood to the side of the door expectantly. He looked like a gentler version of Mikhail. “You must be Jacques.” Raven touched Mikhail’s cold hand once before leaving the room.
“And you are Raven.” He was looking at the ring on her finger, not even trying to hide his smirk.
She lifted an eyebrow. “I didn’t want him upset. It seemed the quickest way to get out of here so you people can help him.” She had been unable to use Jacques to “see” Mikhail. His mind shield had been too strong to penetrate. Byron had been an easy target.
When she headed for the front door Jacques shook his head and crooked his finger at her. “He wants you to drink some juice.”
“Oh, give it a rest. I didn’t say I would.”
“We can stay here all night.” He shrugged broad shoulders and flashed a quick, lopsided grin. “I would not mind. Mikhail’s house is comfortable.”
She scowled at him, tried to look fierce when something in her was beginning to find the entire lot of them comical. Males thought they were so logical. “You’re just like him. And don’t take it as a compliment either,” she added, when he looked pleased.
He grinned again, that lopsided, heart-stopping grin that must break hearts everywhere he went.
“You’re related to him, aren’t you?” Raven guessed, certain she was right. How could he not be? He had that same charm, the same eyes, the same good looks.
“When he claims me.” He poured a glass of fresh apple juice and handed it to her.
“He wouldn’t know.” It was going to kill her to drink it.
“He would know. He knows everything. And where you are concerned, he can get a mite testy. So drink.”
She sighed in resignation, and tried to force herself to swallow the juice without disturbing Mikhail. She knew Jacques was right about Mikhail. He would know if she didn’t drink it, and it seemed so desperately important to him. Her stomach rolled, heaved in protest. Raven gagged, coughed.