“Could have fooled me. How did you get home? I hope you didn’t drive.”
“Just get the coffee,” he muttered.
Kendra left, her steps drowned out by the chink of silverware and clatter of plates. Nick cradled his head in his hands.
“You shouldn’t be up,” she said.
She. Danielle.
At the sound of her voice the pounding stopped. Then it started again at full force. Nick squinted over his shoulder, the edges of his vision cloudy. Danielle was standing in a beam of sunlight that hugged her in a hazy glow. Of course, it might have been his blurry vision playing tricks on him, it was hard to say.
A pink, short-sleeved sweater and jeans embraced curves that were familiar only from his dreams the night before. A dark green leather bag complimented her shoulder.
“You,” he said hoarsely.
“Yes?”
Kendra came back, setting a cup of coffee in front of him, her keen blue-eyed gaze shifting from Nick to Danielle before she turned away. He wrapped his hands and around the cup out of habit. He knew he couldn’t drink it.
“What do you know about yesterday?” he asked.
Danielle slid onto the Naugahyde stool next to him. “That you are sick. And we really should get youback to bed.”
He didn’t particularly want anyone listening in on them. Nick lowered his voice, leaning closer. “I mean no disrespect, baby, but I only remember bits and pieces of yesterday. I need you to fill in the blanks.” He paused, glancing at her face, which was beginning to redden. “They were good,” he assured her. “The bits and pieces.”
She blushed clear to the collar of her sweater.
“Nothing happened,” she said. She tucked hair behind her ear. It was probably a nervous habit of hers.
Nick caught her wrist. “Tell me.”
“Let go.” Her eyes darkened unnaturally, threads of liquid silver lacing the irises.
He released her. She was the strangest person he’d ever met. “What’s with your eyes?”
She avoided his question. “You’re not well enough to be up. Let me take you upstairs.”
“Not until you tell me what happened yesterday.”
Her lips pressed into a line. “Upstairs. Then we can talk.”
“How about we talk, then go upstairs.” And do something more than talk, he finished inside his head. Not that he was up to anything else. But she could go right ahead and try him out anyway.
He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to come on so strong. He probably looked like an idiot because of it.
“You try my self-control, Nick Shepard.”
“You try mine.” He grinned.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that.” She stood, taking his arm and pulling.
He ignored her urging hand. “Or?”
“Upstairs. Now, please.”
Nick gave in. “Well, if you want me to yourself that badly.” He let her lead him on, Kendra watching as if he might need backup. Kendra knew all about Genevieve, his past foray into the life of beautiful, but heartless women.
“I think I can handle this one,” he said over his shoulder to her as Danielle dragged him away.
Kendra tucked a second pencil into her ponytail. “We’ll see about that.”
“What was that about?” Danielle asked as they passed through the kitchen.
“I’ll tell you later.”
Danielle seemed to know exactly where she was going, but Nick wasn’t surprised by that. She opened the door to his studio apartment, closing it solidly behind them.
He winced. “Could you not do that? My head hurts.”
“I told you to rest.” Danielle urged him toward the bed, then pushed him down on it.
“What did you do to me?” he asked, watching the ceiling heave above him and wondering how going up a flight of stairs could be so hard.
“You’ve been sick. I’m just trying to help.”
“Can you explain to me where this came from?” He peeled back his t-shirt.
It took her a moment to answer. “What do you remember?” she said flatly.
“I remember several things, but I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not. I’d like to think the really great parts were real, but I’m pretty sure I made those up.”
“Yes . . . that sounds about right. But you can hardly help yourself, I guess.” He heard her bag being deposited on the counter.
“Gee, thanks.”
“You were bitten by an animal out in the forest. You had an adverse reaction, and I’ve been taking care of you.”
“That’s not what I remember.” The bite on his shoulder was human. Granted, the canine teeth were exaggerated . . .
He felt the bed dip. She was sitting near him. He could smell her.
“I specialize in wildlife,” she said. “You had a reaction to a bite.”
“Looks human. The bite.”
“And you have experience in human bite marks, Shepard?”
“Don’t call me Shepard. It’s too formal. That’s what they call me at work.”
“Nick.”
“That’s better.” He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear for her. “Much better.”
Her mouth opened, then it closed and she straightened. “Might want to take off your boots,” she said, standing. “You’re not going anywhere today.”
“Aye, aye, Miss Howard.” He pulled them off and tossed them across the room. “Anything else?”
She blushed. It was easy to embarrass her. He liked that a little too much.
“You’re going to be difficult, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Only for you.” He plopped back down on the bed, then wished he hadn’t. His head was still throbbing. “Look,” he said, feeling repentant. “I’m not usually this annoying.” She made him act like a sixteen year old.
“Neither am I, really.”
“You’re not annoying. I can think of a few other words that describe you.”
Danielle went to the kitchen cupboards, rattled around a bit, then pulled out a glass. “And what would they be?”
He grinned across the open room. “Breathtakingly strange.”
She took tinted brown vials out of her bag. They clicked together as she set them on the island counter.
“Poisoning me?” he asked. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“Hardly. This is your cure.” Her lips moved as she silently counted drops from an eyedropper.
He rolled onto his side to watch her. “I have another question.”
Danielle set the first vial down and picked up the second. “Go on.”
“What’s with you and Lothar?”
She eyed him over the dropper. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Danielle. And you travel all over the country tracking bears through the wilderness with the man.”
“Not all over. We only go where the bears are. And we track them in Canada too.”
Nick scowled at her.
Danielle counted drops.
“You’re not going to answer my question, are you?” Nick propped himself up on one elbow.
“What was the question?”
“Are you and Lothar involved? Because I think I need to know.”
She set the vial aside and looked at him. “Why?”
“Because I want to know if I’m trespassing on another man’s territory.”
“I’m no man’s territory.”
He had that coming. “Scratch that. My manners suck around you.” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. When he looked at Danielle he saw two of her. He blinked until she was one again.
As fun as that would be, two was just too much.
“No, we aren’t involved,” she told him, turning back to the cupboard. This time she pulled out a bottle of grape juice. The door banged shut. “He’s a close friend.”
“How close?”
“I have known him for a long time.”
“How well do you know him?”
She poured juice into the glass then put the bottle in the ancient brown refrigerator. “I haven’t seen one of these since I was a kid,” she said, looking the appliance over.
“Danielle.” He gritted his teeth.
She came around and handed him the glass. “I tried to confuse the taste with juice, but I suggest you drink it quickly anyway.”
“What, no ice?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“I think I already am.” Nick eyed her from under his brows, trying to look innocent. That look worked on ninety-five percent of women. Not Kendra, obviously. She was in the five percent.
“Lothar and I are not mates.” Danielle turned away, her smell wafting after her.
Mates? What was she, Australian now? No, in Australia mate meant friend. He frowned. “Not now but . . .?”
“Never.” Spoken from behind the freezer door. She stalked back around like a pacing tigress and dropped three ice cubes into his glass.
“Good,” Nick said, taking a drink. She was right. It tasted terrible. Like a cross between bad Indian food and something randomly pulled out of a compost bin. “So you’re completely free?” he managed.
“Drink it fast.”
He did, grimacing. She took the glass from him and set it in the sink with a clank so loud he wondered if she’d broken it.
“Well?” he asked.
Her shoulders rose and fell. “Yes, I’m uninvolved.” Danielle turned back to him, her brow pinched.
“What happened?” he asked.
She shook herself. He knew he had a way of surprising people by seeing things they hadn’t meant to show him.
“Nothing,” she said.
“You’re hiding.”
She changed the subject. “How’s your stomach? I’m starved. I’ve missed meals, thanks to you.”
“Watched me closely, huh?”
“I’m going downstairs for some breakfast.” She pulled a phone out of her back pocket. “Lunch now. It’s eleven. Can you eat?”
“I can try, but no promises. Just get me whatever you’re having.”
“Better not. I don’t think you’re up to it. But I’ll get you something.”
The door closed behind her and Nick wondered how he could elongate this infection, or whatever it was, so he could keep her around longer.
The bite on his shoulder flared and he pulled his shirt off to look at it. It didn’t appear infected. It looked like it was healing as quickly as any other injury he’d ever had.
Nick fingered the crescent marks. He wondered what Danielle was hiding, then he picked up on the lingering traces of her scent and smiled. She made him throw common sense out the window.
And he didn’t even care.
Chapter Five
Danielle slid onto a stool at the counter, her stomach growling like crazy. She looked over the laminated menu. This wasn’t her usual fare. It was hometown cooking. Chicken and dumplings, spaghetti and meatballs, cheeseburger and fries. A stake would have to do, she decided.
Kendra slid in right next to her. Danielle jerked back, wondering if the woman had ever heard of personal space.
“He doesn’t usually drink like that,” Kendra said.
Danielle considered letting her believe Nick had gotten drunk. Then she remembered that nothing could be kept secret in a small town. He would probably tell Kendra all about his mysterious bite. And that meant everyone else would know by tomorrow.
“He’s not hung over,” Danielle said, sticking with what she’d told Nick. “He was bitten yesterday in the forest. I’ve been taking care of him.”
Kendra assessed her, then nodded, seeming satisfied, or at least satisfied enough. “Is he okay?”
“I have it under control. I’ve been trained in these things.”
“Does he need shots or something?”
Danielle couldn’t help but smile at that. It was her venom after all. “No, he’s going to be fine. He just needs a few days.”
He was strong. Strong enough to keep as a mate. Danielle turned back to the menu, not seeing the words, but needing some kind of distraction.
“Should I get him some chicken soup?” Kendra asked.
“That would be perfect.”
“What can I get for you?” She studied Danielle’s face. “Have you slept at all?”
A couple hours, but now that Kendra had mentioned it, her eyelids felt heavy. “Not really, no. You could get me a steak, please. Rare.”
“Sure, on the house. It’s the least I can do. Thanks for taking care of him. Greg and I . . . Never mind.” Kendra walked away.
Danielle’s insides twisted and she wished she could say something about how sorry she was about Kendra’s husband. He’d died because she and Lothar had not been there to stop the vampires. Unfortunately, there was only so much she could say and manage to maintain her anonymity at the same time.
She could smell Nick, traces left on anything he’d touched. Danielle tuned in her sensitive hearing. The shower kicked on upstairs. He was up again. She pursed her lips. What was wrong with that man? Didn’t he know how to rest?
She plopped her chin on her palm and ignored the fluttering in her stomach. She couldn’t keep Nick, as tempting as it was. A mate would put a damper on her freedom.
Kendra retuned, this time leaning across the counter in front of her. “Do you have a thing for Nick?”
Danielle straightened. “What?”
“Because if you do, that’s fine, but he just got out of a nasty relationship, and I think you should know. I’d hate to see him hurt like that again.”
“I don’t. No.” How much coffee did Kendra drink? Maybe she needed to cut back.
“You stayed up all night with him, and now you’re sitting here staring at nothing and sighing.”
“I was not sighing.”
Kendra lifted her brows.
“He could use that chicken soup,” Danielle said.
She shrugged and walked away.
Danielle waited impatiently for Kendra to return with the food, anxious to be away from her. She tried to take the tray when Kendra came back.
“No, I’m used to it,” Kendra said. “But you could get his door for me.”
Defeated, Danielle led the way as they climbed the narrow stairs to Nick’s room. She hesitated, knowing he’d just gotten out of the shower. Finally, she took her shyness in hand and knocked.
“Danielle wants to know if you’re decent,” Kendra called from behind her.
Dang human females and their intuition.
The door opened, revealing a shirtless Nick, dark hair towel damp. His shoulder was already past the scab stage and beginning to scar over. Her gaze slid down the angles of his chest. He had jeans on. His feet were bare.
What had she thought yesterday, about him being a big boy?
Oh, boy . . .
“This is getting heavy, guys,” Kendra said. “You can stare at each other all you want, after I put it down.”
Embarrassed, Danielle stepped past Nick, her hip brushing his leg by accident. Even a recent shower couldn’t mask his scent. It took her a moment to recover. Sight. Touch. Smell. The sound of his pulse picking it up a notch because she was in the room.
Nick took the tray from Kendra.
“Is that where it bit you?” Kendra asked, looking at Nick’s shoulder. She turned to Danielle. “What did you say bit him?”
She hadn’t said. Danielle wiped her hands on her jeans. “Um, crazy squirrel.”
“Looks too big for a squirrel.”
“Yes, it does,” Nick said, setting the tray on the counter.
“Their teeth aren’t even shaped like that,” Kendra added.
Why did she say squirrel? Duh, Danielle. She smiled sweetly at Nick to cover for herself. Nick smiled back, but it was a knowing smile.
“I can tell when it’s time to make an exit,” Kendra said, turning to leave.
“Kendra,” Nick called, leaning against the counter, arms folded over his chest. “Can�
��t Steph take care of the diner for a few days?”
“Nick,” she said in warning.
“Just a few days.”
Her brow hardened. “You do what you have to do, and I do what I have to.” Kendra left, closing the door with a thud.
“Maybe I am pushing her,” Nick said. “But I wish she’d give herself a break.”
He turned to the tray and poured out a cup of coffee from a carafe. He handed it over. Danielle took it, careful not to touch him—her cheeks couldn’t take any more. She reached around him for the cream. He shifted at just the right moment and her arm brushed his as she pulled away.
Breathe. Breathe, Danielle. She focused on pouring cream into her coffee without making a mess.
“No,” he said, almost making her slop it all over herself. “I don’t care what she says. She should take some time off.”
Danielle had the feeling he was thinking out loud more than anything. She set the cream carefully aside. Deciding it was too dangerous to snag a spoon, she didn’t bother stirring it.
“You’re worried about her,” she said. It was hard to acknowledge that he might have feelings for Kendra.
He stared into the narrow kitchen section of his apartment. “I’m worried about them. Kendra, Greg, my parents. I don’t know.” He poked at her stake with a fork. “Maybe I should’ve been there when it happened.”
No, she should have been there. Danielle didn’t want Nick anywhere near the beast that had killed his brother.
“This cow is still bleeding,” Nick said, poking at the steak again.
“That’s mine. You get the soup.”
“No problem. I prefer my meat dead before I eat it.”
“Oh, it’s dead.” Unfortunately.
She waited for him to move aside then took up her plate and silverware. His apartment was Spartan. Granted, he probably only stayed there when he happened to be in town, but she had the feeling he preferred things simple. He seemed like the kind of guy who was more concerned with function than style. She thought about Lothar, and couldn’t help but to compare them. Her partner liked nice clothes; he’d grown up rich. But he could also handle a cordless screwdriver and a nail gun like nobody’s business. As always, he was perfectly balanced. Wolf and man. Form and function.
The tiny island counter was already covered with the food tray and tinctures, so she pulled a chair out from under it and sat with her plate on her lap and her coffee on the floor next to her. She ignored the potatoes and broccoli, digging straight into her meat.
Tangled Moon Page 5