“Hmmm?”
“What happened to you?” She reached up cautiously with the cloth in her hand, watching me, trying to gauge my reaction. When I didn’t move—in fact, I barely breathed—she continued slowly pushing the wet hair off my forehead and using the cloth to wipe my brow.
I closed my eyes for a minute, enjoying the way her hands felt moving over my skin and brushing through my hair. And then I opened them so I could watch her more.
“Me and a certain Prince of Hell don’t really get along,” I said by way of explanation.
“He did this to you? He… beat you and then threw you into that stuff?” Her hand had come down to rest in that place between my collarbone and my shoulder, slightly gripping the skin there.
Her hands were warm.
Without thought, I reached my hand up and covered hers.
“I was trying to get here. That’s why I was in the water.”
With the hand I wasn’t holding, she tossed the cloth back into the bowl and then laid her free hand on the bed between us. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Yeah. Thanks for taking care of me.”
We sat there not speaking, listening to nothing but the sounds of the crashing waves outside and staring at each other through the fading light of day.
“How long have I been here?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.
“A day.” Then her forehead wrinkled and she said, “You must be starving. I made some food a while ago. Let me get you some.”
She stood, but I wouldn’t release her hand so she could leave. “I’m not that hungry.”
“You?” she said, a smile lighting up her face. “You’re always hungry.”
“Not today,” I said, my voice coming out in a low baritone.
A look of concern crossed her features and she sat on the edge of the bed, fitting her hip so it was against my side and she was turned toward me. “Are you feeling okay?” She leaned over and the scent of wildflowers tickled my nose and filled my senses. She pulled her hand free and placed it on my forehead. “Do you still feel pain?”
I shook my head.
“Do you feel like you need more sleep?”
I shook my head again.
Her brow puzzled and she seemed to be deep in thought. Then she said, “I don’t know why you couldn’t be hungry, then.”
She was so utterly innocent and inexperienced that the hound inside me let loose a low whine that echoed in my head.
“Kiss me,” I said, the words barely making it from my throat.
My request had her sitting back, staring down at me dumbly.
“What?”
“That’s why I don’t want food. I’d rather have you instead.”
Her cheeks turned pink. It was the exact color streaking through the sky outside with the setting of the sun.
“Have you ever kissed someone before?” I drawled.
She shook her head.
“Has anyone ever kissed you?”
Again, she shook her head.
“Lay it on me,” I said, feeling my lips curve upward.
“I-I can’t,” she said, getting up from the bed.
I caught her around the hips and pulled her back down. “It’s really quite simple,” I said, sitting up away from the pillows so we were face to face. “All you have to do is lean in, very close,” I said low and leaned just ever so slightly closer, “and press your lips to mine.”
She was watching me, looking between my lips and my eyes. I didn’t move any closer. I wanted her to come to me.
We stayed like that for a long time, so long I’d just about given up. If it had been any other lady, I would have grabbed her and crushed her lips to mine. If it had been any other lady, I would have given her a kiss to end all kisses. But she wasn’t just some lady.
She was special.
I began to pull away and she laid her hand on my arm, the lightest touch, and then she came forward. She closed the distance between us and pressed her lips to mine.
She held herself there, her full lips taunting mine, and I was practically shaking with the need to crush her against me. But I didn’t. I did, however, bring my hand up and run it through the length of her hair, my fingers trailing through the silky ends and then resting between us. She pulled back, her gaze colliding with mine, and she smiled.
“I got you some Ho Hos,” I blurted and then wondered what the hell I was thinking. It was like my brain threw up the first words it happened to string together to form a sentence.
“You did?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.
I nodded. “But they’re in my Jeep in hell.”
“That’s okay,” she said, slipping from the bed and landing on the floor with a soft thud. “Are you hungry now?”
I wasn’t, but I nodded anyway.
My answer seemed to please her and she went off to find me something to eat.
I looked up at the ceiling, feeling lighter than I had… ever.
I couldn’t understand it. That kiss was nothing that would boil a man’s blood. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that would ignite a firestorm of passion until I could think of nothing else.
It had been chaste.
It had been innocent.
It had been the best damn kiss of my life.
The knowledge hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, crazily, I felt as if I was being pulled back under the sludge and it pressed in on me, weighed me down until I couldn’t fight back, and I was just sinking… lower, lower still.
I had to get out of here.
I had to think.
Ana entered the room carrying a tray full of cut-up fruit and a bowl of soup. The very air around her was utterly serene and the feeling of being trapped in that water lifted enough that I could breathe.
“I hope this is okay,” she said, her words almost shy.
God, I was so jaded compared to her. What the hell was I doing? But I couldn’t find the energy to leap off the bed and go running from the house. I wanted to be here. She made me feel… Well, I didn’t know how she made me feel and I didn’t want to think about it.
“It’s good,” I said and then grinned. “You know me. I’ll eat anything.”
She handed me the tray and then sat down in the chair by the bed. I took the first bite of food because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
The third, fourth, and fifth bites I shoveled into my mouth were because it was good and I liked to eat. “So how’s the hunt for the soul’s going?”
“We haven’t found them yet. But we have an idea on how to find them.” I said, finishing the bowl of fruit and starting in on the soup. It was some kind of chicken with big, fat biscuit things in it. I liked it.