Regan licked her lips, unable to bear the look of shame that twisted Jagr’s stark features. Since their first memorable encounter, she had ruthlessly fought to keep this man from tromping over her defenses. Even when her own body had betrayed her.
In this moment, she knew if she truly wanted to be rid of him and his aggravating interference in her life, all she had to do was keep her lips shut and allow him to drown in his own guilt. It was etched on every line of his face.
But even as the thought fluttered through her mind, she was already shoving it down the black hole where it belonged.
No freaking way.
And she didn’t give a shit what it might reveal about her pathetic emotions.
“Are you okay?” she demanded, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around him and offer the comfort that he so obviously needed. He wasn’t ready. Not yet.
Proving her point, he gave a slow shake of his head. “No, I’m damned well not okay,” he rasped, his eyes never leaving her throat. “I hurt you.”
“I’m fine.” She waited a beat, but when his eyes refused to leave the fading bruises, she reached up to grasp his face in her hands and forced his head up. “Jagr, look at me.” Grudgingly his gaze met hers. “I. Am. Fine. Got it?”
“I very nearly killed you.”
“Ha.” She narrowed her gaze, her tone angry. This was no time for touchy-feely crap. Not with a wounded warrior bent on self-flagellation. “I might not be an oversized oaf like some I could name, but I’m not that easy to get rid of. I would have stopped you if I truly thought I was in danger.”
His jaw tightened. Annoying, stubborn vampire.
“No, Regan, you couldn’t have. If I hadn’t hesitated…”
“But you did,” she interrupted, squeezing his face as if she could squeeze in a bit of sense. “No harm, no foul.”
“And the next time the madness overtakes me?” he rasped.
“Next time? Does it happen often?”
“It did in the beginning.”
Well…duh. She’d be worried if he hadn’t gone Rambo after what the Kesi and her merry band of torturers had done to him.
“And now?”
His gaze abruptly dropped. “It doesn’t matter.”
Regan snorted. He didn’t want to answer because he must know it would only prove her point.
“How long since the last time you…” She caught herself, not willing to call him mad. He might be maddening, but he was the sanest demon she’d met in her entire life. “Lost control?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How long?” She growled low in her throat as he remained mute. “Jagr?”
“It’s been several centuries,” he grudgingly confessed.
There. She knew it.
“Fine. Then I’ll start worrying a few hundred years from now.”
His expression hardened as his fingers dropped from her neck. No doubt telling himself he might accidentally hurt her.
“This can’t be dismissed. I’m dangerous.”
“Only because you were imprisoned.” Damn, she wished he wasn’t too huge to shake. Trust her to get entangled with the biggest, most difficult demon to ever walk the earth. “Christ, anyone would have gone a little nuts. It wasn’t your fault.”
“This isn’t about fault, it’s about consequences.”
“And what are these dire consequences?” she demanded. “A few bruises that I know damned well have already healed?”
His eyes flashed a frigid blue. Regan smiled ruefully. His anger, and even power, was always coated with ice rather than fire. His means of controlling the rage inside, she was beginning to suspect.
The heat he kept for his passion.
Which suited her just fine.
“Why won’t you take this serious?” His brows snapped together. “Dammit, Regan, you should be afraid of me.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I should feel, chief.” Lowering her hands, she poked his chest with a finger. “I’m perfectly capable of deciding if I should be afraid or not.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
Her temper, always ready to be set off, exploded.
Fine. He wanted to be a dick? Then he was going to get treated like one.
“Oh, yeah?” Knowing she would have only one opportunity to catch him off guard, Regan leaned into his hard body, deliberately rubbing her softer curves against him. Temporarily distracted by her ploy, Jagr was unprepared when her foot slid behind his leg and she suddenly pushed for all she was worth against his chest. The vampire grunted in surprise, unable to halt the inevitable fall. He landed hard on his back, but giving no mercy, Regan was swiftly perched on top of his chest, the dagger she’d yanked from the waistband of her jeans shoved directly above his heart. “Well, fool this,” she gritted.
She held her higher ground for less than the beat of a heart. With a low growl, Jagr twisted to the side, reversing their position so that she was pinned to the ground by his massive body.
“I think I’ve made my point,” he rasped.
“Not even close, chief. I would already have carved out your heart if I wanted.”
His expression was the perfect example of an exasperated male who’d reached the end of his rope.
Even his fangs were showing.
“Dammit, Regan.”
“No, damn you, Jagr,” she hissed, not about to back down. Jagr had isolated himself for centuries, pushing everyone away who might get too close. He wasn’t going to get by with it this time. “I get that you’re not a boy scout. Yippee kiyah. I don’t need a freaking saint. I need a warrior. I need…” She swallowed the uncomfortable lump in her throat, and forced herself to admit the truth. “You.”
He stilled, his eyes briefly revealing the stark, aching loneliness that was echoed deep within her before they were abruptly shuttered.
“Little one, I swore a vow that I would protect you.” His jaw twitched, as if he struggled to contain his emotions. “Even from myself.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And I swore a vow that I would never be at the mercy of another man.”
Jerking as if her words had struck a nerve, Jagr abruptly flowed to his feet, glaring down at her with an offended expression.
“You’re not at my mercy.”
“No?” She scrambled to her feet with a great deal less grace than Jagr, planting her fists on her hips. “You want to make my decisions for me. You want to tell me what’s best for me. You want…”