Hotter Than Hell(169)

“Let me take those,” he said, reaching for her groceries, and she let him, following him soundlessly down the short hall to the kitchen as she untied her coat. The kitchen opened to the living room where Tom usually practiced his music now that he was too tired to make the trip to the university’s hall. Down the corridor at the back was the single bedroom and bath. Everything was tidy and clean, done in soothing tones of brown and taupe. The furnishings were simple and clearly masculine, and Mia loved the contrast from her own home, filled with the primary-colored clutter and untidy life of a new baby.



“I won’t stay long,” she said, noting his thin, trembling hands. “I was passing by, and…I missed you.”



“Oh, Mia,” he said, his deep voice swirling over her like his aura was as he took her in his arms. “I know how the rain depresses you.”



Depresses her wasn’t exactly it. It depressed everyone else, and in turn, lowered the amount of ambient emotion they gave off. She was hungry, and she lowered her gaze before he saw the rising need in their pale blue depths.



“I missed you, too,” she whispered, eyes closing in bliss as his love soaked into her, his arms gentling her to him, forgiving her for what she did to him, knowing she had no choice. The scent of his soap was sharp, and she drew away when she heard his pulse quicken. She was pulling his strength from him as she soaked in his aura, rich with emotion. That was why he was weak. A person could replace a surprising amount of their aura, but take too much too fast, and the person died when their soul was left bare to the world and unprotected.



“I’m sorry,” she said, blinking to keep her emotions in check. “I shouldn’t have come.”



“I’m fine,” he said, smiling wearily down at her.



“Fine?” she said bitterly as she pulled away. “Look at you. Look what I did to you. I hardly walked in the door, and you’re shaking already.”



“Mia.”



“No!” she exclaimed, pushing him away when he tried to hold her. “I hate who I am. I can’t love anyone. Damn it, Tom, this isn’t fair!”



“Shhhh,” he soothed, and this time, Mia let him take her in his embrace, laying her head against his chest as he swayed her gently as if she was a child. “Mia, I don’t mind giving my strength to you. It comes back.”



Mia couldn’t breathe from the wave of pure love rolling off of him, carrying the delicate beauty of wind chimes tinkling forgotten in the sun. His love was so heady, so sweet. But she shouldn’t take it. She had to resist. If she could keep from drinking it in, it would eventually flow back into him, keeping him strong and untouched.



“But not fast enough,” she mumbled into his flannel shirt, hardening herself to his emotion if not his words. “I came back too soon. You’re not well. I should go.”



But his arms didn’t release her. “Please stay,” he whispered. “Just a little while? I want to see you smile.”



She pulled back, gazing into his earnest eyes. It was too soon, but she would make it be okay. She could do this. “I’ll make you coffee,” she said as if in concession, and he let her go.



“I’d like that. Thank you.”



Motions unsure, Mia took off her overcoat and slipped off her shoes. Barefoot and in a soft dress of pale blue and gray, she busied herself in the kitchen, taking a moment to arrange her hair in the reflection in the microwave. Guilt stared back at her, with a rising black of hunger in her pale eyes. The pierced coin on the purple ribbon about her neck dangled like a guilty accusation, and her pale fingers held it for a moment as she thought. She would not take anything more from this man. She could do this. She had wanted to find love, and she had. It was worth the risk.



Tom’s sigh as he sat at the table between the kitchen and the living room was weary but happy. Past the tasteful furniture and his scattered music was a large plate-glass window overlooking the street. The drapes were open, but the rain was like a sheet, gray and soothing to create a soft, hidden world.



Her silk dress was a gentle hush as Mia sat two empty cups on the table. She watched Tom’s long fingers curve about his, though the cup was dry and cold. Concerned, she sat beside him and took his hand in her own, drawing his attention to her. Behind them, the coffeemaker warmed. “How are you doing?”



He smiled at the worry in her voice. “Better now that you’re here.”



Mia smiled back, unable to keep from soaking in his love like a sponge. Overcome by the purity of it, she dropped her gaze, only to have them fall upon the coin. Her mood tarnished.