Vixen (Dark Protectors #11.5) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,13

could do. If she mated him, then she was partially responsible for all the people he helped through eternity, right? That had to go in the plus column for her life. Heat flushed through her. Could she do this?

“It doesn’t matter.” He took her hand. “I think you should stay the night in my guest room, at least until we find that Richard who won’t leave you alone. Once you give me the whole story, I’ll call in some favors I’m owed, and we’ll track him down. I promise.”

She couldn’t breathe. This was nuts.

He lifted her hand to his mouth. “Would you stay the night?”

She squared her shoulders, tingles wandering up her arm just from one kiss of his lips. Her palm flashed hot and painful against his touch. Holy immortal crackers. The mating mark pulsed on her palm—the one that appeared when a demon found their mate. Oh, there was something between them. That was for sure.

“I’m definitely staying,” she whispered.

* * * *

Evan escorted Tabi into his small brick home, flipping on lights as they went. Having her in his space was making his clothes feel too constricting. Man, she was beautiful. There was something wild and untamed about her, especially after that car race, that made him shove his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her.

His dogs ran up, both panting. “This is Buck and Lewey.” They were long-haired mutts, part black lab and part who knows what, and he adored them. “Outside, guys.” They obediently ran for the back door, and he let them free. “Are you hungry?” He might have a waffle or two in the freezer.

“No.” She looked at the freshly polished wooden floors and the hand-crafted fireplace mantle with self-placed river rock. “This place is lovely. Did you do all of this yourself?”

His ears heated. “Yeah. It’s probably dumb, but I wanted to leave something complete behind. Something I’d created myself.” Shaking himself out of it, he exited the living room and showed her down the wide hallway to the guest room, which held his grandmother’s furniture that he’d refinished. He’d see her soon. Then he chuckled. He’d be okay after a good night’s sleep and then could help Tabi out of this mess. Once he got her out of his space he could take some deep breaths. Alluring was too tame a word for her.

She stared at the cherrywood dresser. “What’s Huntington Disease?”

He stilled. “Oh. It’s a rare and progressive brain disorder that demolishes physical and mental abilities. Before you ask, it’s genetic, and there is no cure. It’s fatal, and my dad died from it.” Sharing with her helped, somehow.

She tossed her purse onto the bed. “What about your mother?”

“Car wreck when I was nine. No other relatives.” The blonde was a sweetheart in trying to connect. He didn’t need connections, although she was a temptation, that was for sure. That mysterious and feminine scent of hers was heating his blood in a way that made him feel healthy again.

“What does your room look like?” She turned, those black eyes guileless.

“Oh.” Of course, she wanted the tour, and he had redone the entire home. His chest puffed out just enough to make him feel like a moron. “I’ll show you the rest of the house.” If he got her anywhere near his bed, he might lose the control he was reaching for like a starving man.

She made appropriate noises at the rest of the house, until they reached his room. Then she gasped. “It’s so…you.”

He felt like shuffling his feet so he stood taller. “Thanks. I made the furniture in the garage, which I turned into a woodshop.” The furnishings were oak with hand-carved designs of different angles of crests of his ancestors, who’d come over to the States from Scotland. He moved to flip off the light.

She stepped in front of him, looking up, a light pink flushing across the porcelain skin of her enticing face. “I want to stay in here tonight.”

In another time, he would’ve already had her on the bed. But even he didn’t need a pity fuck. “I appreciate it, sweetheart, but it’s just not a good idea.”

Her face cleared and her mouth opened slightly. “Oh. I see. You, um, can’t?”

He coughed and then laughed full-on. When was the last time he’d felt humor? When he calmed, he tugged on a piece of her hair. “Yeah, I can. Parts of me still work just fine—at least for now.” It was a sobering thought,