Naughty All Night - Jennifer Bernard Page 0,43

overflowing load of shopping bags.

“I see you found the mall.”

“I went shop-ping. O.M.G.” His imitation of a tween girl made her laugh.

“Find any cowboy hats?”

“Hell no. You have to go to Texas for those. Got something for everyone on the crew, though. Couple things for my hockey team. A knife-holder for S.G..”

“You found a knife holder in the Century City mall?”

“Go figure.” He showed off the hot-pink leather holster. “She’s going to hate it. I had to do it.”

With a groan, she dropped the facecloth back into place. “You’re a weirdo.”

“How’d it go today?” He lowered himself next to her, as she braced for the effects of jostling on her head. But he was surprisingly gentle as he settled his big body beside her. “Tough day?”

“I’m trying to fend off a migraine. It’s the last thing I need right now.” She closed her eyes to bring back the darkness.

“What helps with that?”

She shrugged. “Darkness. Quiet. Sometimes the muscles in the back of my neck get so tight…”

“Say no more.” A big, warm hand settled on the back of her neck. His thumb pressed along the tendons. An instant long groan spilled from her mouth.

“That feels—”

“Shhh,” he murmured. “You need quiet, remember? I bet you’ve been talking all day.”

“Mmmm, hmmmm.” After that she followed his directions and held her tongue, losing herself in the soothing magic of his strokes. His fingers were so damn strong. The tightness in her tendons was no match for his gentle power, and slowly the tension eased.

From her experience, if she could head off a migraine before it really took hold, she might be able to sleep it away and not miss the next two days in a fog of agony. Deliberately she relaxed her jaw and her eyelids and any other muscle she had any control over. Calm, even breaths. Coolness. Darkness.

Think of peonies, not depos.

No, not even that. No thoughts. Thoughts hurt. They made her tense up and that made everything worse. Let all the thoughts evaporate like a cloud of mosquitoes. Let peace and calm spread from the back of her neck, from those commanding fingers, through her skull and along her face.

She drifted into a half-conscious state. The feeling of being swept down a river roused her sometime later. But she wasn’t on a river; she was in Darius’ arms, and he was carrying her to bed.

Second time he’s done this, she thought sluggishly. Next time I want to be conscious.

Or maybe she’d said it out loud, because a low chuckle vibrated through her from his broad chest.

“Count on it,” he murmured as he nestled her into softness. “I’ll wake you up in the morning in plenty of time.”

He stepped to the window to draw the blinds against the city lights. So light here, all the time. In Lost Harbor, it really got dark at night. No streetlights, just moonlight and starlight. Maybe that was why she didn’t get migraines there.

Time passed, and slowly the iron band of pain around her skull eased. She snuggled into the covers and slept, and it really felt as if she could still feel Darius’ gentle hands on her head, smoothing out every bit of tension and stress. Even though he was gone, it felt as if he was with her, his heated skin against hers, his arms holding her tight against everything out there that wanted to hurt her.

“Kate?” His voice came softly through a white veil of dreams. “Sweetheart? Can you open your eyes?”

At first she wasn’t sure if she could. But she wanted to see if it was really Darius calling her “sweetheart,” or just one of the nighttime fantasies she’d been having lately. She dragged her heavy eyes open, realizing as she did so that it didn’t hurt.

“You called me sweetheart.” Her voice didn’t make her wince the way it usually did when she spoke during a migraine episode.

“I knew that would get your attention.” Sitting on the edge of her bed, he stroked a damp strand of hair away from her face. “How’s your head?”

She blinked hard—another test. A faint trace of pain remained, like a shadow of a memory of pain. “Seems okay.”

Cautiously, she pushed herself into a sitting position. She still wore the loose clothing she’d changed into last night when she’d felt the first threat of a migraine. “What time is it?”

“Still early. It’s only six-thirty. I thought you might want some time to ease into the day.”

She nodded carefully. “Good thinking. Thanks, Darius. I think I might

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