She gave him a sleepy grin. “Made you yawn.”
He laughed. “Yes, you did. Why don’t you go ahead and get some rest? You can’t have actually slept in that chair while watching over me.”
“I think I may have dozed off once or twice.”
“That’s not enough. You need rest. You were wounded tonight.” He frowned. His own wounds had healed for the most part. Only a deep sleep or more blood would finish the job at this point. But hers . . . “How are your wounds?”
“They hurt like hell, but I’m used to it. What about you?” She glanced at the bright sunlight outlining the faded window curtains. “You’re kind of stranded here, aren’t you, until sunset? Or will Richart be coming back for you?”
“If I haven’t worn out my welcome, I’d like to stay. I trust Richart not to give away your identity or location. But Chris is like a bloodhound. Once he has the scent . . .” He shrugged. “I want to be here to run interference should his men find you.”
She frowned. “Are you sure Sean is safe?”
“Yes. The first thing Chris will do once he learns your name is track down your home address.” And race to her doorstep. Hmm. “Perhaps I should have Richart teleport us to . . .” He thought for a moment. “Where would Chris not think to look? Our home in France?”
“You want to teleport me to France?”
“Yes.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“So, one minute I would be here and the next I would be across the ocean in France?”
“It’s just a thought.”
A long pause ensued. “You know, I just don’t think I’m up for that right now.”
He smiled and touched her hair. “It has been a long night.”
“Do you really think your human friends will burst in here and threaten me?”
“They might burst in, if you don’t answer the door. But, with me here, they won’t have the balls to threaten you.”
“Why don’t you get some rest, too, then?”
He nodded, but didn’t think he would succeed even if he tried. The futon that barely kept their asses from hitting the floor was old and lumpy and badly needed to be replaced. “I’ll stretch out here on the futon, if you really don’t mind.”
“Do you want to take Sean’s bed?”
He shook his head. “Sean doesn’t want me in the house. I doubt he would appreciate my confiscating his bed.”
“You’re probably right on that, but he’ll get over it.”
Étienne smiled. “No, thank you.” He stood when she did.
“Okay.” She started to stretch, then winced and dropped her arms.
If he knew Roland better, Étienne would call him and ask him to heal her. Unfortunately, Roland had kept him—and everyone else, save Sarah and Marcus—at a distance. And really didn’t trust humans.
Krysta headed for her bedroom. “You should know I’m a very light sleeper, so . . .”
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t try to drink your blood while you sleep?”
Her cheeks flushed guiltily. “Yes.”
“I would never do so, with or without your permission, unless both of our lives depended upon it. I wouldn’t want to risk infecting you.”
She stared at him as if she truly wanted to believe him.
And he hoped she did. Or would. In time.
He bowed as she turned and entered her bedroom. He expected her to close and lock her door, not that it could keep him out.
Instead, she drew back the covers and climbed into bed.
Étienne turned off the overhead light and attempted to stretch out on the futon. His feet and most of his calves hung over the arm. One of the metal bars beneath the cushions dug into his back.
He sighed. He could always wait until Krysta drifted off, then sleep on the floor. That would probably be the more comfortable solution.
He heard bedding rustle and closed his eyes, trying not to picture Krysta sprawled across the covers under other, less appropriate circumstances.
She laughed.
Opening his eyes, he glanced at the doorway.
She was leaning over in bed, peeking at him. “Comfortable?”
“Yes, thank you.”
She shook her head. “You’re lying.”
“With good intentions.”
Still grinning, she waved him toward her. “Go ahead and come sleep in here with me.”
His body went rock hard at the notion even though he knew damned well she didn’t mean it the way he wanted her to mean it.#p#分页标题#e#
“I . . .” want to rip your clothes off with my teeth, so I don’t think it would be a good idea. “That’s very kind of you, but . . .” I really do want to rip your clothes off with my teeth and explore every inch of your beautiful body. “I’m fine.”