Deeper than the Night - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,45

hospital, Kara," he remarked with a rueful grin. "Anyway, it isn't necessary."

"What do you mean?"

"Kara, I've been here two hundred years. In all that time, I've never been sick. Any injuries I've received have healed in a day or two."

"At least let me wash the blood away."

"If it will make you feel better."

He stood up and followed her into the kitchen. While Kara looked for a clean rag, he went to the sink and washed his hands; then he sat on the floor while she rinsed the blood from the scratches on his back.

He glanced over his shoulder. "You're no longer repulsed by my appearance?"

Kara studied the dark strip of skin that ran down his spine. "No." She washed away the last of the blood, then dried his back with a towel. "I wish you had some bandages."

Alex stood up and took her in his arms. "Stop worrying."

Kara nodded, suddenly too aware of his nearness to speak. His eyes were dark, smoldering with suppressed desire. She could feel the heat radiating from him, feel the evidence of his desire.

"I want you, Kara," he said, his voice rough with need.

"I know."

He kissed her again, gently, as if he were afraid she might shatter in his arms. His tenderness tugged at her heart, and she had a sudden urge to hold him, to comfort him.

"Kara?"

"Yes, Alexander?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"What do you mean?"

"You're so fragile. I'm afraid I might crush you."

"I'm not made of glass, Alex."

He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, lowered her to the bed, then stretched out beside her and drew her close. At last, she was in his arms again. He closed his eyes, absorbing her nearness, her very essence, as he absorbed the light of the moon. She was like sunshine and satin in his arms, warm and soft. Her fragrance filled his senses, her skin was supple and smooth beneath his hands. He buried his face in the wealth of her hair.

"Alex . . ." Desire unfolded within her like a flower opening to the sun. Her hands moved restlessly over his arms, his chest, his shoulders and back, delighting in the sensations that came from touching him the powerful muscles in his arms, the sleek warmth of his skin, the rough silk of his hair.

Her hand stilled as it brushed against the peculiar, rough-smooth feel of the ridged flesh along his spine. Alien flesh . . . the thought crept, unbidden, into her mind.

She felt his body stiffen beneath her palm, felt the tension that pulsed through him as he drew back.

"Alex . . ."

The pain in his eyes stabbed her to the heart. Wordlessly, he sat up and turned his back to her, as though to say, Take a good look.

She felt his withdrawal in the deepest part of her soul. "Alex, please . . ."

Please what, she thought, hating the gulf that stretched ever deeper between them, hating herself.

"It's all right, Kara," he said, and his voice was flat, empty of emotion.

She stared at his back. The narrow strip of flesh that loomed before her eyes seemed to grow wider, darker, until it filled her line of vision.

He stood up, and she knew he was going to leave her, and that if she let him walk away, she would never see him again.

"Alex! Don't go! Please come back to bed."

He whirled around to confront her, the skin across his cheekbones taut, his dark eyes filled with torment. His hands were tightly clenched at his sides, and she shrank back against the headboard as she remembered the destruction those hands had wrought.

The movement was not lost on Alex. Eyes narrowed, he took a step toward her, an angry growl rising in his throat as she raised her arms to fend him off.

"I thought you weren't afraid of me," he said, sneering.

"I'm . . . I'm not."

"No?"

He could feel the anger, the frustration, swirling through him as he took another step forward. "You should run away, Kara. Run from the monster as fast as you can, and maybe I'll let you go."

"Alex, don't." She stared up at him, her heart racing. For a moment, she was sorely tempted to run away, and then, with a defiant toss of her head, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze. "I'm not afraid of you, Alexander Claybourne."

With a strangled cry, he dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. She stared at him for a moment, the sound