them were—in stride, in her fervor to protect a man she knew only as a patient.
He should be on his knees to her for her courage, and instead he’d insulted and threatened her. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the copper taste of shame from his throat, but stopped when he realized how richly he deserved to feel it.
And then he backed up until he was just outside the room.
“I’m sorry,” he managed to say, forcing the words past the boulder in his throat. “I was wrong.”
And how long had it been since he’d uttered those words to anyone?
Her slightly hysterical laughter slowed and then stopped, and she drew in a huge, deep breath. “I—what?”
“I’m sorry. Please, lock the door. I’ll stand guard, but out in my study. No one would dare to come into these rooms, in any case. You will be quite safe.” He could barely manage to meet her gaze, so he didn’t. He looked at the sinks—at the shower—at the towels she held.
“I’m…sorry,” he repeated, almost strangling on the words.
And then he slammed the door between them, picked up his massive, carved, wooden bed and hurled it against the opposite wall, shattering the thick posts into kindling.
There was a long pause, and then her light footsteps came toward the door and stopped. For one wild moment, he thought she meant to come find him—to invite him into her shower. Into her arms. Into the sunlight that surrounded her.
But then the snick of the lock bit into him as if it had been the tip of a blade.
She didn’t want him anywhere near her—and why would she? He’d broken into her home and abducted her. He’d mocked and threatened her. Even now, the sound of his temper smashing his enormous, two-hundred-year-old bed must have frightened her.
He wasn’t just a monster—he was a child.
A fool.
“So be it, then,” he told the empty room. “I’m a monster and a fool, and it’s too far against my nature to try to be anything else, even for the delectable doctor.”
He turned to face the bathroom door.
…
Ryan stared hard at the door she’d just locked, well aware of how flimsy a barrier it would be to the man who’d made the smashing noise she’d just heard. What had she gotten herself into?
Not that she’d exactly gone out looking for vampires to taunt about matters of consent, but she had followed him down that hallway. Maybe they could put that on her tombstone or on the outside of her cremation urn:
Here lies Ryan: If only she hadn’t followed that vampire to the bathroom.
His voice, somehow sharp and raspy at the same time, interrupted her mental ramblings.
“I’ll be in my study, if you need…if you need anything. There are clothes in the closet. Wear anything you want. You can roll up pants legs, or use a belt, or—”
When his voice trailed off, she heard a thud that sounded like he’d dropped his forehead against the door. She understood the inclination.
“Yes. Fine. Thank you,” she called out, proud that her voice barely shook at all.
She’d argued consent with a vampire. He could have killed her with one fang, probably, and she’d stood up to him.
Warmth spread through her. She had told him to stop—and he had. This man—this monster—who could take anything or anyone he wanted had stopped because she’d told him to stop.
She stood, wild-eyed and wild-haired, clad in nothing but her pride and skimpy PJs, and met her own gaze in the mirror as a smile started to spread across her face.
She’d never felt more powerful in her life.
Chapter Sixteen
Bane spent the longest twenty minutes of his life listening to the sound of the shower and then the small sounds of footsteps, drawers opening and closing, and the faint murmur of the doctor’s voice when she talked to herself.
He couldn’t make out the words, of course. Even his superior vampire hearing couldn’t make out quietly spoken words from two rooms away, with two closed doors between them. But there was nothing wrong with his imagination, and the thought of Ryan St. Cloud in his bathroom—in his shower—using his soaps and shampoos on her deliciously wet skin and hair nearly had him crawling the ceiling in frustration.
He wanted to smash through the doors separating them and take the towels from her hands. Dry each inch of her body. Dry her hair and brush through the long waves. Find lotions and oils and whatever else women needed and tend to her. Pamper her.
Cherish