Home > Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #9)(38)

Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #9)(38)
Author: J.R. Ward

"Fucking hell," she heard her brother say.

Her human spun around on Vishous. "Give us some privacy. Now - "

"Watch your f**king mouth - "

"I'm her doctor. You brought me here to assess her clinically - "

"Don't be ridiculous."

There was a pause. "Then why the f**k am I here?"

"For precisely the reason I hate you!"

That ushered in a lot of silence - along with a sob on her part. She was just so glad to see her healer in his strength and his flesh. And her single sniffle whipped both their heads around, her healer's face changing instantly, going from flat-out fury to driving concern.

"Shut the door behind you," he barked over his shoulder as he came to her.

Passing her hands across her eyes, she cleared her tears and looked past her healer as he sat on the side of her bed. Vishous had turned away and was going for the exit.

He knew, she thought. More than anything their mother could have done for her, he had brought her the one thing guaranteed to make her want to live.

"Thank you, brother mine," she said, eyes locked on him.

Vishous stopped. The tension in him was so great, both of his fists were curled in tight, and as his head slowly cranked around, his icy eyes burned.

"I would do anything for you. Anything."

With that, he pushed his way out ... and as the door eased shut, she realized that I love you could indeed be said without actually uttering the phrase.

Actions did mean more than words.

Chapter Twenty

As the pair of them were left alone together, Manny couldn't get enough of looking at his patient. His stare just kept going over her face and her throat and her long, lovely hands. Jesus, she smelled the same, that perfume of hers burrowing into his nose and going straight to his cock.

"I knew you were real," he repeated. Christ, it probably would have been better to say something else, anything else, but that was all he had, evidently: The relief at the fact that he wasn't going crazy was just overwhelming.

At least until the luminous sheen of tears in her eyes registered ... along with bottomless lack of hope in her stare.

He'd done all he could for her, and yet he had failed. Totally.

Although it wasn't as if he hadn't guessed her condition before now. That brother of hers hadn't come into the human world again because shit was going so frickin' well on this side.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

As he stared into her eyes, she slowly shook her head. "Alas ... I am ..."

When she didn't finish, he reached for her hand and held on to it. God, her skin was soft. "Talk to me."

"My legs ... are no better."

He cursed under his breath. He wanted to do an exam on her and look at her newest X-rays ... maybe make arrangements to get her into St. Francis for another MRI.

But, as critical as all that assessment stuff was, it could wait. Right now, she was fragile emotionally, and he needed to help her deal with that first.

"No feeling still?" he said.

When she shook her head, a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. He hated that she was crying, but as God was his savior, he had never seen anything so beautiful as those eyes of hers.

"I am ... e'er to be thus," she said on a shudder.

"And 'thus' to you means precisely what?"

"Here. Upon this bed. Stuck." Her eyes didn't just hold his, but reached out and grabbed them. "I cannot countenance this torture. Not for a night more."

She was dead f**king serious, and for a split second, he felt a terror that cut right through to his soul. Maybe in another female ... or male, for that matter ... a statement like that might have been an emotional release of despair. For her? It was a plan.

"You got Internet around here?" he asked.

"Internet?"

"A computer with access to the Web."

"Ah ... I believe there is one in the larger room beyond. Through that other door."

"I'll be right back. Stay here."

That got a half smile. "Wherever shall I go, healer?"

"That's what I'm going to show you."

As he stood up, he had to resist the urge to kiss her, and he hurried out to make sure he didn't. It took no time at all to find the Dell in question and get signed in with the help of a rather attractive blond nurse who introduced herself as Elena. Ten minutes later, he came back to Payne's room and paused in the doorway.

She was fixing her hair, her hands trembling as she smoothed the crown of her head and felt down the length of her braid as if searching for defects.

"You don't have to do that," he murmured. "You look perfect to me."

Instead of replying, she blushed and grew flustered - which was just about the best thing she couldn't say. "Verily, you tie my tongue."

Well, now, didn't that take his mind into places it shouldn't be going.

Staring across at her, he forced his head to change gears. "Payne, I'm your doctor, right?"

"Yes, healer."

"And that means that I'm going to tell you the truth. No sandbagging, no hiding anything. I'm going to tell you exactly what I think and I'll let you make up your own mind - and I need you to hear me on that, okay? The truth is all I've got, nothing more, nothing less."

"Then you need not utter a thing, for I know too well where I sit."

He glanced around the room. "Have you been out of here since you came back from the operation."

"No."

"So you've been staring at these four empty walls for a week, trapped on a bed, having other people feed you, bathe you, and deal with your bodily functions."

"I do not need the reminder," she said drily. "Thank you kindly - "

"How do you know where you're at, then."

Her frown was deep and dark ... and sexy as hell. "That's ridiculous. I am here." She pointed to the mattress under her. "I have been here."

"Exactly." As she glared up at him, he closed the distance between them. "I'm going to pick you up and carry you, if you don't mind?"

Now her brows popped. "Wherever to?"

"Out of this godforsaken cage."

"But ... I can't. I have a - "

"I know." Of course she would be worried about her catheter, and to save any embarrassment, he snagged a clean white towel off the bedside table. "I'll be careful with it and you."

After he made sure her equipment was secure, he untucked the top sheet that covered her and scooped her up. Her weight was solid against his upper body, and he took a moment just to hold her, her head on his shoulder, her long, long legs draped over his arm. Her perfume or soap or whatever it was reminded him of sandalwood and something else.

Oh, right ... orgasms.

The ones he'd had when he'd dreamed about her.

Great, now he was pulling the blush-and-flush.

Payne cleared her throat. "Do I weigh too much? I am large for a female."

"You are perfect for a female."

"Not where I come from," she muttered.

"Then they're using the wrong standard."

Manny carried his precious load through the door into the exam room. The place was empty, at his request - he'd asked the nurse - Elina? Elaina? - to give them some privacy.

No telling how this was going to go.

Keeping her in his hold, he sat down in front of the computer, and angled them so she could see the monitor. When she seemed more interested in staring at him, he didn't mind in the slightest - but it was hardly conducive to concentration. Or the reason he'd gotten her out of that bed.

"Payne," he said.

"What?"

Christ, that husky voice of hers. The damn thing was capable of ripping through him like a knife and making him like the bite of pain that came along with the wounding: To want her as he did and restrain himself was an agonizing pleasure that was somehow better than the best sex he'd ever had.

It was an antici-gasm at its finest.

"You're supposed to be looking at the monitor," he said as he brushed her cheek.

"I'd rather stare at you."

"Oh, yeah ... ?" As his voice grew as husky as hers, he knew it was time for some internal dialogue along the lines of oh-no-you-don't-big-boy.

But damn.

"You make me feel something all over my body. Even in my legs."

Well, sexual attraction would do that to someone. His circuits were sure as hell lit up like Manhattan at midnight.

Except there was a larger purpose to this Santa's-lap routine, something that was so much more important than a quickie ... or even a session that lasted a week, or a month, or God save them both, a year. It was about a lifetime. Hers.

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