Deeper than the Night - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,57

her with him. "You're cold," he said.

She nodded, though it wasn't the cool air that was making her shiver. Dangerous. Fatal. The words repeated themselves in her mind, frightening her in spite of her bold words.

As if she were a helpless child, she let him dry her off and dress her. She watched while he pulled on his pants, her gaze drawn to the dark stripe down his back. He slipped his shirt over his head, and then he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the mountain, into the cavern.

Inside, Alex removed her clothing and tucked her into bed. Undressing, he slid in beside her and gathered her into his arms.

Please, please, please . . .Just the single word, playing over and over in his mind.

Please let her be all right.

Please don't let my seed take root within her womb.

I've been alone so long. Please don't take her from me . . . .

He held her all through the night, praying to the gods of his home world, to the Great Spirit of the Lakota, begging for mercy.

Forgive me,he pleaded. Punish me, but please don't let anything happen to the woman asleep in my arms . . .
Chapter Sixteen
When Kara woke the next morning, it was late and she was alone. She felt a rush of panic, and then, hearing the sound of hammering, she relaxed. He was here.

She stared up at the smooth stone ceiling, remembering the night past, the self-recrimination in Alexander's eyes, the fear. It had been for her, that fear.

She placed a hand over her stomach. What if she was pregnant? Would that really be so terrible? Except for that peculiar strip of ridged flesh on his spine, Alex looked exactly like any other man. She grinned wryly. It wasn't as if he was Jabba from Star Wars, or the gill-man from the Black Lagoon.

She grunted softly as a new thought occurred to her. Alex had mentioned the fact that his blood was different from hers and might cause her harm, but he had already given her some of his blood, and nothing had happened. Had he forgotten that?

Throwing off the covers, she scrambled out of bed, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and went into the main room.

She paused in the doorway, her gaze moving over Alex. He was building a table from the tree he had felled the night before. For a moment, she admired the play of muscles in his broad back and shoulders. He glanced over his shoulder to smile at her, and happiness bubbled up within her, as effervescent as sparkling champagne.

"Good morning," she said, stepping into the room.

"Good morning." He finished hammering one of the table's legs in place, then brushed a lock of hair from his face. "Did you sleep well?"

Kara nodded. "Did you?"

He shook his head. "No."

"You were worrying about me, weren't you?"

He nodded, his gaze moving over her face.

"I'm fine, honest." She sat down on the floor, legs bent, her arms resting on her knees. "Don't you think maybe you're worrying for nothing? I mean, you gave me your blood and nothing bad happened."

He frowned, and Kara knew she'd been right. He had forgotten.

"So," she said brightly. "Maybe there's nothing to worry about. Anyway, I'm probably not pregnant. I am hungry, though. Are you? Oh, sorry." She grinned self-consciously. She'd forgotten he didn't need to eat every day.

"Go make yourself some breakfast," Alex said. "The table should be done when you're ready."

Rising to her feet, Kara crossed the floor toward the kitchen, thinking she would rather eat sitting on the floor than standing at the table, and then she saw the chairs, two of them. Stout, serviceable, the backs intricately carved, one slightly larger than the other. An image of the three bears rose in her mind and made her smile. One for papa bear, and one for mama bear . . .

"You do nice work, Alex," she called over her shoulder.

"Thanks."

He watched her move around the kitchen, thinking how different the cavern felt with Kara to share it. Thinking how different he felt. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was worrying for nothing. He had given her his blood, and she hadn't suffered any ill effects. He stared at the hammer in his hand, trying to stifle the rush of hope that flooded through him as he imagined what it would be like to share his life with Kara. And then, unable to help himself, he pictured Kara holding his child. Ah, to