Night Unbound(51)

“You still need blood,” he whispered, struggling to keep his head.
She blinked. Something like hurt flickered in her eyes before she lowered them and reached for a second bag.
When she tried to withdraw the hand he held, Zach clung to it. “Lisette, that wasn’t a rejection.”
She sank her fangs into the bag.
“I care about you,” he went on, floundering and searching for a way to make her understand. “Your welfare will always come first with me. Your safety. Your comfort. It’s why I accompanied you to David’s. And why I didn’t pounce upon your offer, which I didn’t even know was an offer, just now. Your hand is cold. I felt you tremble and knew you needed blood. If my timing was off . . .”#p#分页标题#e#
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “It was a pretty blatant offer.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never done this before and am clearly not well versed in it.”
She lowered the empty bag. “Never done what?”
He took the bag from her and set it on the table beside the others. “I was going to say court a woman, but I don’t think endangering a woman’s life, then asking her to continue to risk it by consorting with me counts as a courtship.”
She squeezed his hand. “You didn’t ask me to risk my life. Aside from wanting me to pick up some of the sedative earlier tonight, I don’t think you’ve asked a single thing of me.”
“You know what I mean,” he murmured. “Seth doesn’t want you anywhere near me. You know the danger of betraying him.”
“And I told you it’s a risk I’m willing to take to know more of you.”
“Why?” he asked helplessly.
“Because I’ve lived for over two hundred years and haven’t felt this alive, this eager to greet each new night, since I was mortal. You make me feel things I never thought I would again, Zach.”
The mere possibility astounded him. “And you make me feel things I never thought I could.”
Her blood-streaked face filled with a tenderness he had never known as she stroked his fingers with her thumb.
Zach handed her another bag of blood.
Smiling, she took it. “Do you also take refuge in seeing to my safety and health when you aren’t sure what to say or do next?”
“Yes.” As much as she risked for him, she deserved honesty.
Chuckling, she sank her fangs into the bag and emptied it. Her fingers warmed. The tremors ceased. She set the bag on the table.
“Do you need more?” he asked, ready to fetch it if she did.
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
Yes, she was. Too good for him.

Chapter Eight
Lisette watched Zach gather the empty blood bags and rise.
Her eyes widened as he turned away and walked in that long, languid stride of his over to the trash can to dispose of them.
He hadn’t been lying. Or trying to make her feel better when his not “pouncing” on her offer had felt like a slap in the face. He really did want her. The evidence of it strained against the front of his leather pants.
Lisette didn’t think she had ever desired a man more.
Grabbing the clean towel hanging over the sink, he held it under the faucet until the cool water ran warm. His broad muscled back, bereft of wings tonight, begged for her touch.
“Where are your wings?”
He shut off the water and approached the table. “I tucked them away once I arrived.” Seating himself once more, he scooted his chair even closer until their knees brushed. “I admit I did so because I wanted you to see me as a man.”
No problem there. “I’ve always seen you as a man.”
“A normal man,” he clarified. Clasping her chin in gentle fingers, he drew the soft damp cloth over her cheek, wiping away the blood that dirtied it.
The tender action touched her far more than flowers and chocolates would have. “I wouldn’t know normal if it bit me in the ass. I’m not normal myself and never have been.”
A smile lit his usually somber features as he shifted his attention to her other cheek. “I wish you could understand how surreal this is for me.”
“How surreal what is?” she asked, wanting to understand.
“Sitting here with you in your cozy kitchen, the night’s silence surrounding us. Talking with you. Touching you.” He found a clean corner of the cloth to apply to her forehead. “Seeing the warmth in your eyes when you look at me, the . . . affection?” The last was spoken with uncertainty.
She nodded. “At the very least.”
“I’m sure it all seems very unremarkable to you.”
Like hell.
“But every aspect of it is new to me,” he continued.
Every aspect of it?