Jeanne Louise’s eyebrows rose when he undid the lid and handed it to her. “What—?”
“It’s my blood,” he explained quietly. “I used sterilized jars. I didn’t have access to a blood bank or anything. I’ve been bleeding myself for nearly two months to get enough together for you.” He glanced back to the refrigerator with a frown and then added, “I hope I have enough. I wasn’t sure how much you’d need. They don’t give us info like that. Only what we need to know.”
“I’m sure you have enough,” Jeanne Louise murmured and accepted the jar, then hesitated. She wasn’t used to drinking out of a jar. Or a glass for that matter. She tended to just pop a bag to her fangs to avoid tasting it. Not that it was unpleasant to her, but she felt a bit self-conscious about drinking it in front of him.
Turning her back to him, she walked to the window as an excuse to keep her back to him as she quickly downed the beverage. She drank it as quickly as she could, very aware that he stood behind her, probably watching her drink his own blood. Dear Lord.
“More?” Paul asked when she finished and turned back.
Jeanne Louise shook her head and walked to the sink to quickly rinse the jar as if removing the last of the thick liquid would remove the memory of her drinking it from his mind. Watching her drink his blood would hardly paint her as an attractive female, she figured, and grimaced as she then set the jar in the sink. She then turned to peer at him.
“Right.” Paul swung toward the door to the hall. “Upstairs.”
She followed silently, not terribly surprised when he glanced over his shoulder to be sure she was following behind him.
“We can watch a movie or something if you like while she sleeps,” he offered. “What kind of movies do you like?”
“Action adventure, comedies, and horror,” Jeanne Louise answered easily and caught the smile on his face as he again turned forward.
“Me too,” Paul admitted as he started up the stairs. “I have quite a collection of movies. We should be able to find something we both like in there.”
“Sounds good,” she murmured as they stepped onto the landing and headed up the hall. He led her past two doors, slowing at the second to glance in on a sleeping Livy, then continued on to an open door at the end of the hall. Jeanne Louise followed him inside and nearly stepped on his heels when he suddenly paused.
“Oh,” he muttered, looking suddenly uncomfortable.
Jeanne Louise glanced around the room he’d led her to. It was twice the size of a normal bedroom, with a leather love seat, a wide stool, two end tables, and a 47-inch TV taking up one half of the room, while a king-sized sleigh bed and two end tables filled the other. It was the bed Paul was now staring at with something like dismay.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered turning back to her. “I wasn’t thinking. I suppose we’ll have to watch a movie downstairs and—”
“This is closer to Livy,” she said with a shrug and moved nonchalantly to the love seat as if she’d hardly noticed the bed. But it was impossible not to notice the bed. Dear God, it was huge, she thought, and glanced to him expectantly.
“Right,” Paul muttered, his gaze sliding to the bed and then skittering away. Straightening his shoulders, he hurried to the cupboard holding the TV and knelt to open the double doors below it, revealing row after row of DVDs. Curious, Jeanne Louise got up again and moved to stand behind him and peer over the titles on display.
“Well, let’s see, I have . . . pretty much everything,” he said wryly, and then glanced over his shoulder and up at her to explain, “I buy the new releases pretty regularly.”
“I suppose you don’t get out much, what with Livy being sick,” Jeanne Louise said with sympathy.
“No,” Paul admitted, turning back to the DVDs. “But I didn’t get out much before that either. Not since my wife . . .”
“Is that Red?” Jeanne Louise asked to change the subject when he fell silent.
“Yeah.” He reached for the DVD.
“I heard it was pretty good,” she said.
“It is. I really liked it,” Paul said handing it to her to read the back. “Malkovich was amazing in it.”
Jeanne Louise nodded and handed it back. “Would you mind seeing it again?”
“No, of course not. I’ve seen pretty much everything I have,” he said closing the doors and straightening.
Leaving him to get the DVD started, Jeanne Louise moved back to the love seat and settled on it, her gaze skittering to the other half of the seat. It wasn’t especially small, but it was a love seat, made to encourage closeness and cuddling. Well, she wanted to know about that final indicator, life-mate passion, Jeanne Louise reminded herself. The situation couldn’t be better for it. She suspected though that she’d be the one making the first move. Paul didn’t have a clue what they might be to each other, or what was in store. She did.
This was definitely a reversal of roles for her. Jeanne Louise wasn’t usually the aggressor in these situations. She usually let the men make the moves and do the chasing. Mind you, she did occasionally give a mental push of encouragement to mortal men if she read they were interested and she was attracted to them herself. It saved time. One of the benefits of being immortal, Jeanne Louise supposed. Sadly, she couldn’t use that on Paul. She couldn’t even read him to see if he was interested. She was as ignorant and uncertain in this situation as a mortal woman would be . . . and she didn’t think she particularly cared for it.
“There we go.” Paul returned to the love seat, remote in hand. Jeanne Louise offered a smile as he settled beside her and pressed the button to start the movie, or at least the FBI warning at the beginning of it.
They fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence as they waited for the warning to finish rolling over the screen. Paul was staring at it as if the message was one he’d never seen before and needed to read. Jeanne Louise was staring at him, her gaze gliding over his short dark hair, before sliding to his face to take in the slightly weathered boy-next-door good looks.