Astrid was transfixed by his unexpected actions.
He sat there for countless minutes in total silence working on the piece. But what amazed her even more than his patient, silent demeanor was the way the wolf he was carving took form. It went from a piece of a limb to a remarkable likeness of Sasha in very little time.
Even Sasha had cocked his head to watch.
Zarek's hands moved the knife over the wood with an expert grace. He paused only at times when he looked up to compare the piece to Sasha.
The man was an extremely talented artist and his talent seemed completely at odds with what she knew about him.
Intrigued, Astrid found herself getting up and returning to the living room. Her movements broke her mental connection with Sasha. Walking always did. She could only use his sight whenever she was perfectly still.
Zarek looked up as he felt the air behind him stir.
He paused as his gaze fell to Astrid and she took his breath away. Unused to having people in a house with him, he wasn't sure if he should greet her or remain silent.
He opted to just watch her.
She was so feminine and beautiful. Kind of like Sharon, only there was a sense of vulnerability about her that Sharon lacked. Sharon possessed a smart mouth that could rival his own and her years as a single parent had left her with a very hard edge to her. But not Astrid. She had that gentle kind of softness that would cause some people to take advantage or victimize her.
The thought sent an unexpected jolt of anger through him.
Astrid moved forward into the room and was headed straight for the ottoman he'd moved out of his way earlier.
His first thought was to leave it and let her fall, but he barely moved it out of her way in time. She missed the ottoman, but did, however, stumble into him, causing the knife to slip.
Zarek hissed as the extremely sharp blade cut deeply into his hand.
"Zarek?"
He ignored her as he rushed into the kitchen to tend the throbbing wound before he dripped blood all over her polished hardwood floors and expensive rugs.
Cursing, he dropped the knife into the sink and turned the water on to rinse it.
She followed him into the kitchen. "Zarek? Is something wrong?"
"No," he snapped, washing the blood from his hand. He grimaced as he saw the depth of the injury. If he were human, he'd need stitches for it.
Astrid moved to stand beside him. "I smell blood. Are you hurt?"
Before he realized what she intended, she took his hand into hers and felt it with her hands. Her touch was feather light as she gently touched his wound and yet the sensation of her hand on his floored him. It felt as if someone had hit him in the gut with a sledgehammer.
She was so close to him that all he had to do was lean forward and he could kiss her.
Taste her neck.
Her blood...
No woman had ever tempted him like this.
For the first time in his life, he wanted to taste someone's lips. To hold her face in his hands and ravish her mouth with his tongue.
What would it feel like to be held... ?
What the hell is wrong with me?
He wasn't the kind of man that anyone held, nor did he want it.
Not really.