Meant to Be Immortal (Argeneau #32) - Lynsay Sands Page 0,89

he could come up with for that was that the nanos coursing through his body were somehow behind it.

Could they cause a feeling of familiarity with someone? Did they do that when they settled on a life mate for their host? Make them feel close and comfortable with the other individual as well as extremely hot for them sexually? He had no idea. It didn’t really matter if they did, though, or what he felt. The issue was CJ, and she was mortal, without the nanos to tell her he was her perfect life mate. She wouldn’t be experiencing the same comfort and sense of closeness he was. At least he didn’t think she would. Although mortal life mates were supposed to enjoy the same deep hunger and passion for their partner as the immortal did. The nanos had to cause that, sending out some kind of cocktail of hormones to arouse them both. Maybe they sent out a cocktail of soothing and comforting hormones at the appropriate times too and she did feel safe and familiar with him. He could only hope.

“Bricker is right,” Katricia said now. “You need to woo CJ. Gain her trust. She’s already attracted to you, and likes you. But that kind of scares her. The truth is she uses her illness to avoid entanglements. She knows she can have a relationship even with HIV, but she has some issues. Guilt over her parents’ deaths, a bit of a trust issue because of her parents lying to her all those years, as well as thanks to her ex-husband. The combination has worn her down. She’s been hiding out these last three and a half years and healing, coming to terms with everything.”

“You read her,” Mac said quietly.

Katricia nodded. “I was out here when she came outside. I was standing in the shadows of the trees and she didn’t see me. I was reading her the whole time, even after you showed up. And like I said, Bricker is right, you need to woo her. But most importantly you need to not scare her off before you get the chance to win her trust, so stay out of her bed. Date her like a 1950s mortal.”

“A 1950s mortal?” he echoed with uncertainty.

“Think I Love Lucy, Leave It to Beaver, and Father Knows Best,” she suggested.

“Basically PG,” Justin Bricker said helpfully, or not so helpfully as it turned out since Katricia immediately shook her head.

“G. Not PG. No nudity,” she corrected. “Just keep your clothes on and get to know her. And let her get to know you and what kind of man you are. Go hold her and kiss her and let her feel cherished without the complication of sex, at least for a little while.”

Mac’s eyes widened incredulously. “She’s my life mate.” As far as he was concerned that was all he had to say. Life mates were infamous for not being able to keep their hands off each other at first. What his sister was asking was the impossible.

“Yeah,” Katricia sighed, but then shrugged. “But I have faith in you, and I think it’s what she needs.”

“Thanks,” Mac said dryly, and thought she had more faith in him than he did.

“You should maybe go comfort her now,” Katricia said solemnly. “She was a bit stressed when she rushed back into the house. Confused by her feelings and her reaction to the news that you supposedly have HIV.”

Mac nodded and straightened his shoulders, then marched back into the house, telling himself he could do this. He could woo her like a 1950s mortal. Take it slow, take her places, dinner, movies, dancing— No, not dancing. If he touched her . . . dear God, this was going to be hard, he acknowledged unhappily.

CJ wasn’t in the kitchen, so he headed upstairs, trying to figure out how he was supposed to comfort her without touching her. Offering platitudes seemed kind of lame, but touching her would be dangerous. Maybe if he just encouraged her to talk, and listened attentively . . .

That was the best he’d come up with by the time he reached the door to her suite. He was so used to just walking in that he almost did it again this time, but then caught himself and knocked softly instead, very aware that the other guests were probably back from the wedding and sleeping now.

CJ must have been in the salon, because he’d barely finished knocking when the door opened and CJ filled