Why did that comment cut to the bone? "You wouldn't lie about this?"
"Rest easy. I want you, but no' for that." He rose. "Now, unless you want to finish this evening properly with me bending you over the bed, you need to get dressed."
With a gasp, she immediately turned on her heel for the bathroom, then locked the door behind her. She pressed her back and palms against it, body quivering, his blood still affecting her.
She frowned. The paint on the door was glossy and cool, smooth but for the left middle panel. Paint had bubbled there. Fascinating.
When she ran the shower and tested the temperature, the water felt incredible on her hand, tickling her palm. Naked in the water was even better - it was as if she could perceive each tiny drop sluicing down her body. Running her fingers through her wet hair felt lovely. She realized she had energy again.
Clearly, Lachlain's blood was a cocktail full of Ritalin and Prozac. She should be awash in regret over her transgression and unnerved about the future, yet she couldn't seem to muster either. She assured herself it was the pharmaceutical aspects of his blood that brought about this sense of well-being - not the unfamiliar feeling of connection she'd delighted in as she drank.
After the shower, she dried off, making a note to commend the inn for the impossibly soft towels. As she wrapped one around her, it grazed over her ni**les. She shivered and flushed, remembering his mouth so hot over her breast.
Shaking her head hard as if to dislodge the memory, she padded in front of the mirror, reaching her forearm forward to wipe the condensation from the cool glass.
I want you, but no' for that, he'd said, and now as she peered at herself she wondered why he wanted her. She tried to imagine how he saw her.
She thought she might be...she might be pretty, now that her color was back and any curves she'd had to begin with had returned - as he'd so rudely pointed out. But it was all relative, wasn't it? She might be pretty, until she stood next to any female in her family. They were fatales, temptresses. By comparison, Emma was...cute.
But they weren't here, and if Lachlain thought she was attractive when she wore conservative clothing and braids in her hair, what would he think when she dressed as she usually did?
She felt nearly liberated, now that he'd convinced her she wasn't his mate, even as part of her wished she was so beautiful he would regret that fact...
She chose her favorite short skirt and strappy heels, and once she'd dried her hair, she left it free again, curling down. If the wind blew it back and someone did see her ears, she didn't doubt Lachlain would think of something to say or do. In fact, he seemed to like that they pointed. Feeling bold, she even wore earrings.
When she exited downstairs to meet him at the car, he gaped at her appearance. She knew she looked as shocked as he did.
Because Lachlain was driving.
He shot out of the car to rush around and toss her in. She supposed she must have flashed a glimpse of her panties in the melee because he growled low, before glancing around to see if anyone else had seen.
When he returned, he slammed his door shut, rocking the car. "What game do you play at, lass?"
She stared at him, speechless.
"You dress like this, when I can barely keep my hands from you now?"
She shook her head. "Lachlain, this is how I usually dress. And you scoff at the idea of me as your mate, so I should be safe."
"But I'm still a male. Who's been long without a woman."
Her heart sank. That's why he found her attractive - because he'd been so long without. He'd probably find a perfumed rock appealing at this point. "Then let me go. If you can drive, then you have no need for me and you can set about finding a woman who's interested in you that way."
"You agreed to stay with me till the next full moon."
"I'll only be cramping your style. And I'm sure there are lots of females out there who would like to be with you."
Chapter 9
"And you doona count yourself among that number? Even after tonight?"
She nibbled her lip, recalling how she'd licked his tan, smooth skin as she'd taken his exquisite blood, and briefly lost her train of thought. "I just don't understand why you want me to stay," she finally managed to say. "You needed a driver. You no longer do."
"No, I can drive, but I want two other things from you."
She sighed and moved to sit with her back against the car door. When she crossed her legs, he stared at them as though enthralled. She snapped her fingers in front of him. "Let's hear them."
With a growl, he tore his gaze away and met her eyes. "I want you to go to Kinevane so I can settle our debt and reward you for your help. It was hard on you to drive, and now I ken your hunger made it worse than I thought."
"Reward me how?" She was suspicious and didn't bother hiding it.
"Money or gold. Or gems. I've been collecting jewels my entire life."
He emphasized the last words, catching her eyes, but she didn't know why.
"You can have your pick."
She raised her eyebrows. "You'd give me some antique jewelry, like out of a gold-filled treasure chest?"
"Aye, exactly." He nodded in all seriousness. "Priceless jewels. As many as you can wear."
"And they'd be mine?" Would she finally own something irreplaceable? "So I'd have mementos from my jaunt with a real-live, certifiable" - she cast him a too-pleasant smile when she said the word, but he didn't get it - "Lykae?" She doubted her aunts could top that escapade.