“And you didn’t have the shared dreams,” she pointed out quietly.
Harper nodded silently, thinking that it wasn’t just the lack of shared dreams but the lack of passion. He’d been eager to experience it with Jenny, but not eager enough to try to change her mind when she’d insisted they wait until after the turn. Harper had just let it go, thinking everything would be fine after he turned her. He certainly hadn’t been obsessed with it as he had been since Drina had arrived here in Port Henry, his mind constantly undressing her and doing things to her that left him half-erect when she wasn’t even in the damned room.
By the time Harper had actually kissed Drina outside that restaurant in Toronto, he’d already undressed and made love to her in his mind a hundred times. During their shopping expedition, he’d fantasized about her in every pair of pretty panties and bras she’d bought, and the black dress had been no better.
Harper had assured himself that it was just the appetites Jenny had reawakened, that they were making themselves known again now that some of his depression was easing, but those damned boots had kept him under a cold shower for nearly an hour as he’d got ready for their trip to the city, and it hadn’t eased any in Toronto. As she’d spoken of Egypt, he’d imagined her dressed up like Cleopatra and mentally stripped away her clothes and laid her on a bed of pillows to sink his body into hers. As she’d told him about her time as a gladiator, his fantasy had switched to ravishing her in the middle of an arena with the crowds cheering him on.
It had been the same with each revelation of her life. In his mind, Harper had made love to Drina as a concubine, a duchess, a pirate, and a madam all before he’d even touched her. But even that hadn’t prepared him for what happened when he’d finally kissed her there outside the restaurant. The passion that had exploded over him had been overwhelming, and he was quite sure that if the waiter hadn’t happened along, he’d have made love to her right there pinned up against the wall.
Harper hadn’t experienced anything like that with Jenny. He hadn’t imagined her naked or dressed or anything. He’d mostly thought about how happy they would be once she was turned, and they were able to enjoy the shared pleasure and peace a life mate offered.
“Harper?” Drina said quietly.
“She wasn’t my life mate,” he acknowledged quietly.
When she released a small sigh, he glanced over curiously, surprised to note that she looked relieved, happy even. Harper took a moment to wonder if she had been jealous of Jenny but didn’t have to think hard. He could still recall his rage at the idea of her going downstairs to give the doorman “the night of his life.” He hadn’t reacted much better to the idea of Marguerite finding her another life mate. Still, he smiled crookedly, and asked, “Were you jealous of Jenny?”
“Of course,” she said simply, not taking her eyes or concentration off Susan. “I don’t share well, even with ghosts.”
Harper smiled faintly and reached over to squeeze her hand. He knew it wasn’t well-done of him, but he actually liked that she’d been jealous.
Drina glanced his way long enough to note his expression and wrinkled her nose at him. “But now I don’t have to be jealous of the selfish little mortal.”
“Don’t call Jenny selfish,” Susan snapped, fury replacing her glee of a moment ago.
“Why not?” Drina asked coldly, her full concentration on the woman once again. “It’s what she was. She didn’t care for Harper at all. She was using him. And she stole his one turn for her own selfish purposes.”
“She wasn’t selfish; she wanted to live,” Susan snapped. “And she didn’t steal anything, he turned her willingly. And look where it got her anyway!” She was furious, almost foaming at the mouth as she spat the words. “That wonderful turning killed her. He killed her.”
“She killed herself,” Drina said grimly. “Her heart, her whole body would have been weakened by the chemo. If she’d told him about the cancer, Harper would never have turned her until she’d had the chance to heal and build up strength. She killed herself by keeping it a secret. But then she couldn’t tell him, could she?” Drina added dryly. “He would have realized she might not be his life mate then. He would have been more cautious and had others try to read her.”
“She wanted to live,” Susan cried.
“And in so doing didn’t care that she was condemning Harper to a living death with no chance of ever turning a true life mate when he encountered her,” Drina said heavily.