of that heart was driving her crazy.
A shadow fell across the bed, and her own heart slammed hard enough to cause her pain. She realized then that the sound had come from her own chest. Jaxon slowly turned her head. A man was standing over her. Very tall, powerful. A predator. She saw that instantly.
She had seen many predators, but this one was the ultimate. It was evident in his complete stillness. A waiting. A confidence. A power. A danger. He was dangerous. More dangerous than any criminal she had encountered so far. She didn't know how she knew these things, but she did. He believed himself invincible, and she had a sneaking suspicion that he just might be. He was neither old nor young. It was impossible to tell his age. His eyes were black and emotionless. Empty eyes. His mouth was sensual, erotic, really, his teeth very white. His shoulders were wide. He was handsome and sexy. More than sexy. Completely hot.
Jaxx sighed and tried not to panic. Tried not to allow her thoughts to show on her face. He definitely didn't look like a doctor. He did not look like someone she could take down easily in hand-to-hand combat. He smiled then, amusement touching his eyes for just one moment. It made him look completely different. Warm. Even sexier. She had a feeling he was reading her thoughts and laughing at her. Her hand was moving restlessly beneath the covers, forever seeking the gun.
"You are in distress." He made it a statement. His voice was beautiful. Smooth like velvet, alluring, almost seductive. He had a strange accent she couldn't place and a way of turning his words that sounded very Old World.
Jaxon blinked rapidly in an attempt to cover her confusion, surprised by the direction her thoughts were taking. She never thought about sex. She had no idea why she was equating this stranger with eroticism. To her shock, she had to search for her voice. "I need my gun." It was a dare of sorts, a test of his reaction.
Those black eyes studied her face intently. His scrutiny made her uncomfortable. Those eyes saw too much, and Jaxon had a great deal to hide. His face was expressionless, giving absolutely nothing away, and Jaxx was very good at reading people.
"Are you planning on shooting me?" He asked it with that same gentle voice, only this time it held a hint of amusement.
She was very tired. It was becoming a struggle to keep her eyelashes from drifting down. She noticed a peculiar phenomenon. Her heart had slowed to match the rhythm of his. Exactly. Their two hearts were beating simultaneously. She could hear them. His voice was familiar to her, yet he was a total stranger. No one could ever meet such a man and forget him. She could not possibly know him.
She moistened her lips. She was incredibly thirsty. "I need my gun."
He moved to the dresser. Not walked. Glided. She could watch him move like that for all time. His body was like that of an animal, a wolf or a leopard, something catlike and powerful. Fluid. Totally silent. He flowed, yet when movement ceased, he was completely still again. He handed her her gun.
It felt familiar in her hand, an extension of herself. Almost at once some of her fear faded away. "What happened to me?" Automatically she tried to check the clip, but her arms felt like lead, and she couldn't raise the gun enough to do the job.
He took the gun back, his fingers brushing her skin. The flood of warmth was so unexpected, she jerked away from him. He didn't react but gently pried her fingers loose and showed her the full clip with a round in the chamber before returning the gun to her palm. "You were shot several times, Jaxon. You are still very ill."
"This isn't a hospital." She was always suspicious; it was what kept her alive. But she wasn't supposed to be alive anymore. "You're in great danger here with me," she tried to warn the man, but her words were too low, her voice fading.
"Sleep, honey. Just go back to sleep." He said it softly, yet his velvet tone seeped into her body and mind, as powerful as any drug.
He touched her then, stroking her hair. His touch felt familiar and slightly possessive. He touched her as if he had a right to touch her. It was like a caress. Jaxon was confused. She knew him.