She would sleep and she was safe, so Tyler set about making the preparations he knew were necessary. He ran a bath with water that steamed and lit the two aromatherapy candles that sat on the otherwise unadorned sink. Somehow it made sense to him that Mallory would think to put pretty little things like jasmine-scented candles in the bathroom but no soap. It didn’t bother him. He didn’t need soap.
Tyler returned to the living room and knelt beside Reyna. He touched her hair while she slept, finding her so much easier to handle when she wasn’t able to glare or snap at him. But he missed the fire in her and he missed seeing her mouth move even when it was only serving to fling some sarcastic remark at him. He was a sad creature, he told himself. He loved a woman who not only had defenses built up against loving him back, but made sure she never gave him a second to think otherwise. Tyler sighed and shook his head. There was nothing to be helped about the situation. Not yet.
Tyler worked Reyna’s feet out of her running shoes with care. He placed them neatly beside the couch and then unbuttoned her pants and slid them down her legs. He couldn’t help but drag his fingertips over her soft skin as he removed her clothing.
When it came to her underwear, Tyler hesitated. He knew that what he was planning to do might be hindered if he left any clothing on her at all, but wondered if her fury was worth the risk to at least keep her in her undergarments. Deciding that he had enough to get in his way, Tyler quickly swept Reyna’s underwear off. Though she wouldn’t know it, he averted his gaze from her private area to try to preserve some of what she would consider her dignity. He cradled her head while he slipped the shirt and undershirt she was wearing from her body and deftly unsnapped her bra and slid it down her arms. He couldn’t keep himself from trailing his hands down the same path.
Reyna was nude, and Tyler saw a shiver work its way through her body. She wouldn’t be cold long, he knew.
Picking her up, Tyler cradled his mate tightly against him. He knew she wouldn’t allow it when she was awake, so he savored the closeness. He felt more himself when she was vulnerable and not able to get angry with him. The closer she was without her walls up, the clearer his mind and stronger his resolve was. He was calmer with her near, and parts of him even came remarkably close to happiness.
Resting Reyna against his leg while he knelt beside the bathtub, Tyler used one hand to stir the water and ensure it wasn’t so hot that it would burn her. The heat stung him momentarily, but then sank into his skin with a deep and luxurious burn. The back of his hand and forearm pinked, but didn’t burn. The water was a perfect temperature, he thought.
Sliding Reyna into the water, Tyler made sure to bunch a towel and place it beneath the back of her head to support and cradle her neck. The lower edge of the towel got wet immediately, but Tyler disregarded it. Though Tyler had heard the doctor tell Reyna not to get the stitches wet, he needed her mostly submerged in order to do what he wanted for her.
Water was a predominant feature on his world. Tyler knew its energy and uses better than any human. As he thrust both hands into the steaming liquid, Tyler focused on the flow. All water had a flow, regardless if it was in a body being pushed and pulled by the tide or sitting stationary in a cup. Tyler used that flow to direct his own energy toward Reyna, following the pathways that had been created during their joining. Sitting as motionless as the water but hosting efforts that were as ceaseless, powerful and invisible as the tides, Tyler allowed his inner magic freedom to work as it needed in order to heal his mate.
The water was cool when Tyler moved away, and he could hear frantic knocking and Mallory’s concerned voice coming from the front door. He was dripping with sweat, as though he’d been the one in the tub, not Reyna.
Leaving his mate as she was—he trusted her not to slide under the water and drown—Tyler rushed to the front door and unlocked it. He had to bite back a laugh as he saw Mallory. She was just as drenched as he was, though it was rainwater that dripped from her hair and chin. She glowered at him and thrust the bags she was holding into Tyler’s chest, forcing him to take hold of them.
“I’ve been knocking for five minutes!” she exclaimed worriedly as she shoved her way inside and out of the storm. “What the hell, Tyler? You scared the shit out of me!”
“I’m sorry, I was busy.” Mallory looked around, her face expressing her consternation as she shook rainwater off of her coat like an angry cat.
“Where’s Reyna?” she asked in a fearful tone.
Tyler gestured toward the bathroom and Mallory gave the door a quizzical look.
“She can’t take a bath or shower and why aren’t you in there helping her?” she asked with a serious scolding in her tone as she began to make her way to the bathroom.
Mallory pushed the door open and saw Reyna in the tub. The light was off, so the flickering candlelight licked exaggerated shadows over the tiled walls. Reyna was deeply asleep in the tub, and Mallory put one hand on the light switch to get a better view. Tyler put an imploring hand on her back. Her hand stilled on the switch.
“She needs to stay in the healing state, undisturbed, for a while longer,” he told Mallory in a soft voice.
Backing away from the threshold, Mallory gave Tyler a very curious look but just sighed and shook her head.
“I get involved with some pretty weird people,” she admitted. “I’ll have to tell you about the morgue sometime. This, honestly, this should not faze me.”
Tyler smiled and they moved back to the living room, where Tyler reclaimed the bags and took the ones with food to the kitchen. While he unpacked and stored the items away, he took his wallet out and tossed it to Mallory.
“Please, take out of there what this cost and something additional for your assistance and your trouble.”
Mallory thumbed through the bills because she was curious, but she didn’t take any out. She didn’t help for the money—she had a real, full-time job for that.
“Please,” Tyler said in a gentle tone. “I insist. You’ve done so much for us.”
“I don’t do it for the money,” Mallory responded firmly as she tossed the wallet back. He caught it, made a face, and put it back in his pocket.
Balling up the now-empty plastic bags, Tyler looked momentarily at a loss until Mallory opened a cupboard beneath the sink and said, “Just shove them in there. It’s what I do at home.”
Tyler checked on Reyna once more and saw that—as he’d anticipated—the stitches had fallen out of their own accord and the flesh that had been injured was pinked and puckered from the healing. His magic had worked, and he was extremely thankful that something had finally gone his way.
“Incredible,” Mallory murmured with a shake of her head. She then spoke more loudly as she turned away from the sight of the supernaturally-repaired Reyna. “Well, I’m off, slick. You guys get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning. Sound good?”
Tyler smiled and nodded as Mallory teased, “And get some clothes on your woman!” Tyler grinned at her words.
“Why?” he questioned. “She’s so very beautiful this way.”
Mallory laughed quietly and shouldered against Tyler companionably. “You are a good guy, Tyler,” she told him in an affectionate tone. “Get her to love you. I want you guys to stick around.”
Feeling a current of pain and longing rush through him, Tyler shrugged and simply said, “I wish I could.”
* * * *
After Mallory left, Tyler watched Reyna in the bathtub. She should wake up soon, he thought to himself, and prepared towels and a thick blanket taken from the only bed in the house—a queen sized one that took up most of the space in the small, single bedroom. She would need to get warm, because the healing would have drained her stores of energy and heat. Plus, the bath water she was soaking in was cold by now and Tyler knew that was sucking more heat out of her with every moment that passed. He considered waking her up, but didn’t want to damage her in any way. Healing was a dangerous process, and one reserved for true mates. Even me
eting the specifications of being joined mates, his people rarely engaged in the practice without arduous training because the risks were so high.
Reyna’s eyelids lifted slowly and confusion filled her green eyes as she took in where she was. Tyler saw her shiver—the chill moved through her violently and her teeth began chattering almost immediately.
“What,” she began in a voice thick from the healing induced sleep and confusion. Tyler cut off her sentence with a short, “Don’t talk yet,” and held out one of the two towels he had ready for her.
“Stand up slowly and step over. You must get warm. I have some soup simmering on the stove that you will need to eat as soon as possible, but warmth is our first priority right now.”
His voice was soothing and firm, calm and cautionary all at once. Reyna looked at him strangely and said, “I can’t stand, Tyler. I just had stitches…”
She trailed off as she ran her fingertips over the scar tissue that was now on her leg. Her shaking increased in volume and she realized how blasted cold she was. It felt like she’d been sleeping in a deep freeze.
“Out and into the towel,” Tyler commanded.
Reyna stood shakily and though there was a spike of pain when she put her weight fully on her injured leg, she didn’t collapse from agony or feel anything that was much worse than a pulled muscle. She momentarily sang silently with joy, but then the shivers took over and she felt she might collapse, anyway.
Tyler quickly wrapped her in the first towel and then ordered her out into the living room, where he sat the second towel down on the couch. Reyna obediently took a seat, refraining from talking because she feared her chattering teeth might sever her moving tongue in two. Tyler draped the thick blanket over her and tucked it around her snugly. The warmth began to sink into Reyna almost immediately, and she moaned in relief. After the cold, being bundled up as she was felt like the purest bliss.
“Stay there and I will bring the soup,” Tyler commanded. Reyna wanted to argue with his demands, but she found herself nodding and sliding back against the soft couch cushions and closing her eyes. It felt like Heaven.
Reyna felt as though she’d just closed her eyes, but when she opened them again, Tyler was sitting next to her and had a bowl of soup perched on the small mahogany table that was the centerpiece of the living room.
“Did I fall asleep?” she asked him as he drew a spoonful of the steaming broth from the bowl.
“You will be more prone to sleep for the next day or so,” Tyler said as his way of an answer. “The healing process is draining.”
“Not only on the party being healed, I see,” Reyna pointed out as she saw Tyler’s slightly trembling hand. “You don’t have to do that, Tyler. I’m fully capable of feeding myself, I promise.”
“Your body needs to save all of its energy to recover from the healing,” Tyler said resolutely. “I will do this and you will not argue about it. You want to argue about everything. I think for once you should simply trust me.”
Instead of snipping at him as they both expected she would, Reyna opened her mouth and waited for the spoon. Tyler laughed.
“Lovely,” he said as he began the slow and rewarding process of feeding his mate the hot and hearty broth.
Reyna hadn’t thought she was hungry, but she was famished. Her stomach eagerly awaited each sip and treated it as gratefully as if she’d been eating ambrosia. Too soon, the bowl of broth was gone, and without waiting for her to ask for more, Tyler stood to refill it. He touched her face before he moved away. It was a bare swipe of contact, a light brushing of a single fingertip along her jaw. The contact shot heat through her that sank into her bones. It warmed her far more effectively than the towels and blankets had yet managed to.
As Tyler refilled the bowl, Reyna thought about Mallory’s words in the hospital. “If you don’t let yourself love him, you’re going to die.” Pleasant, Reyna had said. But it was a warning from a psychic and she was loath to take it lightly. The only problem was how could she make herself love someone when she didn’t want to love anyone? Love required trust, and she didn’t have any trust left inside of her. She didn’t, did she? Her ability to trust others—especially men—had died with her daughter. She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to love, either. She felt pretty decidedly stuck.
When Tyler returned and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek before reclaiming his seat on the couch, Reyna knew she may not have wanted to give into love, but her body certainly wanted to give into lust. Her every nerve ending buzzed with the barest attention Tyler gave her, and she found it both wonderful and exasperating.
“Forgive me,” Tyler said softly as he repositioned the bowl and began lifting spoonfuls of soup for her again.
“For what?” Reyna asked as she gladly accepted more warm liquid goodness to banish the remainder of the chill in her limbs.
“The healing has heightened your attraction to me,” he said. “Our attraction to each other,” he corrected quickly. “I can’t seem to help touching you, and you aren’t glaring at me or shouting for me to stop, so I must assume you feel the same.”
Reyna mulled over that as Tyler continued to systematically fill her up with food and warmth. The episodes of closeness they shared made her less and less hostile to his touch and presence every time. She had a warning from a psychic basically telling her to love him or die. And she was tired of fighting what was there between them. She was scared, exhausted and, in the smallest, furthest corner of her mind, tucked away like a chest in her own private attic, she was hopeful. She’d grown up alone, had lived most of her life alone, but secretly, Reyna had never wanted to be alone. She’d given into isolation, but that deeply buried part of herself had decided it was through hiding. The chest was open, and hope that she wasn’t meant to be alone was inside.
Reyna realized she’d finished the second bowl of soup while she was lost wandering through her mind. Tyler was staring at her.
He was also hesitant to push the calm mood because he was expecting the other shoe to fall. Since they’d met, it always had. She fought him, fought the bond she knew was there and everything she’d ever been able to innately sense from him.
She fought him, fought the bond she knew was there and everything she’d ever been able to innately sense from him. She could read him so well—better than she’d ever been able to read anyone. They were connected in ways she had no ability to define. She was tired of fighting it.
Tyler sensed a new resolution in his mate and part of him knew instinctively he did not like the way she’d come to it. He eyed her warily and said, “Reyna, stop.”
Chapter Nine
Reyna shook her head and let the blanket fall away from her shoulders. She felt amazing—no longer tired, cold, or drained. She burned with heat and energy and reveled in it.
“Don’t fight me.” It was not a hard order to refuse, but neither of them wanted him to. Speech was given up as entirely superfluous after that. Everything Reyna or Tyler wanted was conveyed through touch or small, soft sounds.
Reyna knew how close she’d come to dying, some unknown whisper told her so. The knowing made her want to turn away from the cloaked Reaper and not only embrace life, but throw herself into it like a diver into a deep pool. The desire was a desperate, violent thing, a passion that rivaled the storm outside. Both rose in intensity as Reyna moved into Tyler and kissed him the way she always wanted to and had not yet consciously allowed herself to.
Reyna had promised herself she would never be consumed as Tyler wanted to consume her. She didn’t want such a deep attachment to flesh and bone, one that would eventually die and leave her because she knew that people would inevitably do so. She realized finally that it wasn’t her choice, and the knowledge was so satisfying, so redeeming that she momentarily felt tears sting her eyes. Instead of releasing them, she pressed the feeling into her mouth against his, her hands on his chest, her body sliding against his and telling him with every touch and breath, consume.
Reyna pushed Tyler’s shirt up and dragged it over his head before pushing her mouth against his again for another soul-searing kiss. She loosened the waistband of his pants as they stood and he stepped out of them so he was as naked as she. Tyler thought of the whiskey and told himself the only way he ever wanted to be drunk was on Reyna’s touch, scent, sounds, and kisses.
The couch was too narrow to accomplish anything on and Reyna was too impatient to make the short walk to the bed, so after moving the blanket from the couch to a free space on the carpet, she threw Tyler to the floor. The drive to take from him even as she gave filled her with a delirious giddiness and she laughed at his shock when he caught the impact with his arms. They were so strong, those arms, so beautiful and muscled. The grace and strength that blended perfectly into his body astounded her, and she found herself wanting to take her time to admire him slowly even as everything in her down to her cells demanded she move quickly.
Reyna slid over Tyler in his crouched position and he held his breath. His mate was driving him mad with want and leaving him reeling in the glory of having himself seduced by her. Had he actually thought to fight? Madness. Her hair trailed over his side as she caressed his stomach and placed her right hand on top of his, using her weight to tell him to stay where he was. He was only partially erect, but when she brushed her fingertips down his shaft, he hardened. She kissed along his shoulder blades and down his spine, taking care to touch every inch of skin that was still marked by his various tattoos. There were so many, her mouth barely left his skin at all on the long way down.
Seared [Pain & Love 1] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 8