terrified.
"Would a candle be too much light?" she asked, ignoring the question. "Because I won't be able to see at all back there."
"Probably not. Mary, I won't hurt you. I promise."
She put the ice cream down, lit one of her larger votives, and rested it on the table next to the couch. In the flickering glow she took in his big body. And the arm still over his eyes. And the burns. He wasn't grimacing anymore, but his mouth was slightly open.
So she could just see the tips of his fangs.
"I know you won't hurt me," she murmured, while she picked up the bowl. "You've had enough chances to already."
Draping herself over the back of the sofa, she spooned up some of the ice cream and leaned down toward him.
"Here. Open wide. Haagen-Dazs vanilla."
"It's not to eat. The protein in the milk and the cold will help the burns heal."
There was no way she could reach where he'd been scalded, so she pulled the couch back farther and sat on the floor next to him. Working the ice cream into a thick soup, she used her fingers to smooth some of it over his inflamed, blistered skin. He flinched, flashing those canines, and she had a moment's pause.
He was not a vampire. Couldn't be.
"Yes, I really am one," he murmured.
She stopped breathing. "Can you read minds?"
"No, but I know you're staring at me, and I can imagine how I'd feel if I were you. Look, we're a different species, that's all. Nothing freaky, just... different."
Okay, she thought, putting more of the ice cream on his burns. Let's try this whole thing on for size.
Here she was with a vampire. A horror icon. A six-foot-eight, 280-pound horror icon with a set of teeth on him like a Doberman pinscher.
Could it be true? And why did she believe him when he said he wouldn't hurt her? She must be out of her mind.
Rhage groaned in relief. "It's working. Thank God."
Well, for one thing, he was too busy hurting right now to be much of a threat. It was going to take him weeks to recover from these burns.
She dipped her fingers into the bowl and carried more of the Haagen-Dazs to his arm. On her third round, she had to lean down close to make sure she was seeing right. His skin was absorbing the ice cream as if it were a salve, and he was healing. Right in front of her eyes.
"That feels so much better," he said softly. "Thank you."
He removed his arm from his forehead. Half his face and neck were brilliant red.
"Do you want me to do this part, too?" She indicated the burned area.
His uncanny teal blue eyes opened. They were wary as he looked up at her. "Please. If you don't mind."
While he watched her, she put her fingers into the bowl and then reached out to him. Her hands shook just a little as she worked the stuff over his cheek first.
God, his lashes were thick. Thick and dark blond. And his skin was soft, though his beard had grown in some overnight. He had a great nose. Straight as an arrow. And his lips were perfect. Big enough to fit the size of his face. Dark pink. The lower one was larger.
She went back for more and covered his jaw. Then she moved down his neck, passing over the thick cords of muscle that ran from his shoulders up to the base of his skull.
When she felt something brush her shoulder, she glanced over. His fingers were stroking the ends of her hair.
Anxiety spiked. She jerked back.
Rhage dropped his hand, not surprised she rejected him.
"Sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes.
With nothing to look at, he was acutely aware of her gentle fingers as they moved over his skin. And she was so close to him, close enough that her scent was all he could smell. As the pain from the sun exposure faded, his body began to burn up in a different way.
He opened his eyes, keeping the lids low. Watching. Wanting.
When she was finished, she put the bowl aside and regarded him directly. "Let's assume that I believe you are a... you're different. Why didn't you bite me when you had the chance? I mean, those fangs aren't just for decoration, right?"
Her body was tense, as if she were prepared to bolt at any minute, but she wasn't giving in to her fear. And she had helped him when he needed it, even