Yvette's Haven
Page 35The smell of human food was the first thing Yvette sensed when the darkness lifted. Her body felt as if she’d been beaten to a pulp and then jammed into a blender. What the hell had happened to her? Had the witch tortured her like she’d tortured Haven? At the thought of him, she reared up from her prone position and opened her eyes.
She was still in the same room as before, and she was on something soft: a cot. Her eyes instantly sought out Kimberly. Yvette breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her lying on an identical cot next to her, curled up, her eyes closed. On the makeshift bed furthest from her, Wesley was slumbering as well.
She reached out to Kimberly, wanting to reassure herself that she was okay and that the witch hadn’t hurt her.
“She’s okay,” Haven’s quiet voice came from the floor. Her eyes snapped in his direction. She watched him as he rose and sat down at the foot of her cot.
“Did the witch—”
He shook his head before she could finish the question. “Kimberly was smarter than I and didn’t resist. She’s sleeping now.” He glanced over to her cot, and Yvette followed his look.
“We all ate. They were tired. But I wanted to make sure you were alright.” His eyes scanned her, and she felt oddly aware of her body and the black dress which made her look far more feminine than she was used to.
“What happened?”
Her heart made an excited flip. How could she forget? When he’d suckled from her wrist, she’d felt nearly delirious. She’d never before felt the kind of pleasure that had coursed through her body. “Are you healed?”
Haven smiled and stretched out his arms, presenting his still-naked chest and stomach to her. It looked perfect, unmarred. And sexier than before. The man had a seriously ripped body made for sin.
“You tell me.”
“You look … good.”
When he dropped his arms to his side, his face took on a serious look. “I took too much. You passed out.”
“Well, I guess I’m lucky you guys didn’t stake me while you had the chance.”
Haven nudged closer, casting a quick sideways glance at Kimberly and Wesley, who were still sleeping. “Is that what you think I’d do after you helped me?” he asked through clenched teeth. “That’s how low your opinion of me is?”
“And despite the fact that you knew that, you helped me. Why?” His blue eyes bored into her, probing, searching.
“A temporary moment of weakness. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again,” she spat. Ungrateful bastard. Maybe she should have let him suffer.
“Because I won’t let you do it again.”
Yvette narrowed her eyes. “I see. Feeling dirty because you have vampire blood in your veins now?” How dare he look down at her gift! No vampire gave his blood to just anybody. It was a treasure to be protected. She for one had never shared her blood with anybody—neither during sex, nor to heal.
“No,” he hissed and grabbed her upper arms, pressing her back against the wall. “I won’t let you put yourself in danger like that anymore. You passed out—because I took too much. You should have stopped me before I weakened you like that.”
He was concerned for her health? What the hell was going on? Had she woken up in some alternate reality? “It’s none of your business what I do.”
“It is when you endanger yourself. We all have to be strong together, or we’ll never get out of here. And that includes you. I got you into this mess.”
“I’ll get us out of this.”
“Oh, really? And how are you planning that? By playing Rambo? Or MacGyver? Pathetic.” What was it with men always having to play the big hero who saved the damsel in distress? Maybe that worked in the movies, but it didn’t work here. “I’m stronger than you, so don’t give me this crap.”
He pressed her harder against the wall, and she could have pushed him away—really, she could, even in her somewhat exhausted state. But something made her remain in his restraints—maybe because he smelled so intoxicating, or maybe because her skin sizzled pleasantly where his fingers dug into her arms.
“You might be stronger when you’re well-fed, but right now, you’re running on empty.”