He was putting the baby closer to them so they could hear her from his room, separated by the open fireplace. Private, yet accessible should Amber need them.
"I thought you would want to hear her if she fussed tonight." He laid Amber in the crib so she could continue to watch the flames, before drawing a light blanket decorated with tiny pink teddy bears over her tiny body.
"I don't understand this," she whispered as she paused before the fireplace and watched as he turned back to her. "And I'm frightened of it."
"Frightened of what?" He moved to her, his long legs eating the distance despite the fact that he was moving slowly. "What's there to be frightened of, sweetheart? More pleasure than you can imagine? A man who would die for you?"
Things women swore they would die for. It wasn't the love, or the devotion, that frightened her, though.
"Of the mating heat." She swallowed tightly. "I don't like not having control, Jonas. I don't know how to live and not be certain of what tomorrow will bring, or how not to control what my own destiny is."
"Did you know what tomorrow would bring when you were with Marshal? And sweetheart, I hate to tell you this, but you have all the control," he told her softly, his hands moving to her shoulders, his fingers caressing the flesh revealed by the loose neckline of the gown. "Whatever you want, I'm here to provide, Rachel," he promised. "Whatever keeps you safe, happy and in my arms, I'm here to give you. Just tell me what you want."
His head lowered, but he didn't kiss her lips. He didn't share the mating hormone that Ely had stated made each breath torturous, the hunger was so intense. Instead, his lips touched the skin just below her ear, where sensations were magnified, where heat built and spread along her nerve endings like wildfire.
Rachel felt her lashes drifting closed as sensual weakness and an emotional overload assailed her. What he did to her, she could barely make sense of. He could break her heart, he could make her want to shoot him, but through it all, she didn't want to miss this chance.
"What are you doing?" Breathing was becoming harder by the second as she felt arousal burning through her, marking her with the need for his touch.
His lips were warm velvet, his tongue, with its slight rasp, a heated roughness that had her eyes closing and her knees weakening, and the hunger to feel more, to feel all of him, nearly overwhelmed her.
"Jonas." She whispered his name, the need building inside her now, tearing through her and laying waste to any thought she may have been harboring about thinking this step through any longer.
Lifting her hands, she pressed her fingers to his hard, heated abdomen, feeling it flex beneath her fingers as her own stomach clenched in hunger. She loved how readily he responded to her touch. There were no games with it. She gave him pleasure just as well as he gave her.
"Come to bed with me, Rachel," he breathed against her ear. "I promise, there will be no heat tonight. You have all the time you need to become accustomed the idea of it. To decide if the loss of control is worth it."
She lifted her head, staring back at him, wondering at the incredible gentleness in his voice.
"It hurts you," she whispered.
"Like it would hurt any other man not to have you." He cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her lips. "You are an addiction to me, love. But it's not as though I'm going into withdrawal quite yet."
He looked amused, patient. He didn't look like a man in the throes of agony.
"Ely thinks . . ."
"Ely is sometimes a bit overprotective when it comes to mated Breeds, and a whole lot too nosy about the biology of the phenomena," he stated as his hand stroked down her arm, his fingers finding hers as he moved back to draw her to his bedroom. "Don't worry about what Ely says, Rachel. Worry about what you need."
He was lying to her. She could see the lie in his eyes, in the fine film of perspiration glistening along his forehead. He was in pain, and the knowledge of how he held back, to give her the time she needed, had her wondering if holding back was truly what she wanted to do.
He needed to kiss her. The glands beneath his tongue, as Merinus had explained it, could become agonizingly sensitive unless the hormone was shared.
He was protecting her.
She let him draw her to the bedroom as butterflies beat against her stomach and her lungs tightened with nerves.
She had fantasized for so long. So many nights she had imagined what it would be like if he ever touched her. And his touch was more than she had ever imagined.
As he drew her into the bedroom, Rachel stared up at him, seeing in his eyes the incredible control he was exerting on himself now.
Liquid mercury eyes raged with hunger, with need. His expression was tight, savagely hewn. And sexy. The powerful, primal features of his face, the corded strength of his body, were so damned sexy she could barely stand to look at him without needing his touch.
Without needing to touch him.
Reaching to his bare shoulders, Rachel let the tips of her fingers skim across the powerful muscles, feeling the tension in them, as well as the tightly leashed control.
"You are such a liar," she whispered. "Merinus told me all about mating heat, Jonas. And what she didn't tell me, I've guessed or Ely was kind enough to spit out information on."