I knew I didn’t need to explain to which experience I was referring. He had what I assumed were very fresh and detailed memories of our post-wedding intimacy.
Zane straightened and faced me. “I can’t erase my mistake. You must realize, had I known the extent of your inebriation, I would never have made love to you. Maybe someday you’ll give me another opportunity, but from this point forward, I’ll wait for you.” He closed his eyes and leaned back.
His words left me speechless. I couldn’t deny the sincerity behind them. When he spoke with such tender frankness, I found myself questioning how I would survive without his tantalizing glances and heart-stopping kisses.
But this was what I wanted, right? To be left alone. And he was leaving me alone, allowing me to choose the time and place for any future encounters, and according to Misty, he was utterly, without any recourse, bonded to me.
Without my surrender, he was destined to remain alone — untouched, unloved.
Maybe it served him right.
I knew better. He couldn’t stop the mating mark from appearing any more than he could help what he’d been born to become. All I had to do was accept his love and protection, and we could have many more nights together that I would remember.
What was holding me back from what seemed inevitable?
I doubted any so-called normal man could handle my post-coma talents with Zane’s grace and admiration. My former relationship had been proof enough that my animal reading gift caused major relationship discomfort.
I’d discovered Jordon’s infidelity one evening while feeding his cat like a good girlfriend. He was away on a business trip … the infamous meet-the-other-woman-trip.
When we ended our relationship, a week later, in a storm of harsh words and accusations, Jordon made sure to let me know I was a psychotic weirdo, as well as boring because I refused to sleep with him. He was, after all, a man with needs.
When he kicked his helpless cat for tattling, I kicked him in the shin — hard.
Jordon hopping around on his uninjured leg screaming obscenities was my last memory of him.
And I’d thought he was my Knight in Shining Armor? Talk about a major misjudgment of character.
I spent the remainder of the flight plagued by one question. What would be so horrible about a man like Zane loving and protecting me?
Considering my unpleasant history with the human male, it was difficult to establish what exactly was keeping me from embracing the werewolf resting beside me.
Two hours later, we waited vigilantly with our fellow passengers at the luggage carrousel. Suitcase after suitcase rolled by, the majority of them black. Zane spotted his bags first and separated them from the sea of similar baggage. I followed suit, recognizing my old beat-up case and travel bag. Prepared to snatch mine from the circling belt, I was startled when a pale hand beat me to them.
Alcuin! I never thought I’d be so pleased to see a vampire.
“I thought you two might want to avoid six hours in a rental car,” Alcuin said, setting my bags on the floor.
Zane relaxed, smiling his approval.
His response caused my heart to do little somersaults. I hated to admit how much I disliked seeing him unhappy. I was spending so much time worried about him exerting his power over me that I’d failed to acknowledge the extent of my influence over him.
“You’re such a mind reader,” Zane joked, still grinning at his friend.
Alcuin stopped.
Standing stiffly; he looked over the rims of his dark sunglasses and focused his piercing gaze on my neck. Self-consciously, I started to reach up, and just as quickly dropped my hand, fighting not to fidget under his sudden scrutiny.
Ignoring my discomfort, he walked a slow circle around me, sniffing like a dog. “Something is different about you,” he stated without emotion.
“I’m mated to Zane now,” I said trying to sound pleasant; certain he had used his supernatural senses to detect a lingering trace of Valamir.
I glanced at Zane who appeared puzzled by his friend’s actions.
“We’re married, and I’m marked. That’s what you’re feeling,” Zane clarified, allowing his amber eyes to rake over me, sending the usual trails of heat down my spine.
Feigning indifference, I shrugged, turning my attention to my purse that I pretended to search. It was hard not to feel ruffled with the two of them intently staring.
“Where are we going when we get back in town?” I decided to change the subject while applying the lip gloss