“Exilum,” he snapped.
She stiffened at his harsh tone. A jagged breath barreled out of him. “It’s a retreat.”
Her hands came back, and another stroke of her cool fingers on his burning flesh. Soothing. Calming.
“Is this like a healing center? I hear water.”
“No. My home.”
“It’s er…nice.”
“It’s notnice. It’s a damn fortress, impenetrable and all that matters. Go wash your hands, don’t let that crap stay on you any longer.” Good. That’s what he’d wanted to tell her.
“Crap?”
Must she question every godsdamn thing?
“Blood, dammit. Now go.” He turned his head away, muttered, “I don’t want that shit tainting you.”
***
Eve entered the bathroom and stopped. She glanced around in appreciation at the grotto-like place with its huge windows overlooking a stunning view of the mountains.
Dropping the stained towels on the counter, she emptied the bloodied water in the white bowl-like basin. Then she stared at her hands as she held them under the open faucet, traces of Reynner’s blood washing away from her puckered skin.
His words had chilled her. Why would he say that? His blood appeared red like hers.
Filled with unease, she closed the tap and looked up. Faced with her reflection in the mirror, she cringed. Dear Lord, it’s a wonder Reynner didn’t mistake her for a ghoul. Her eyes appeared like dark holes in a face gone pale, in spite of her tanned skin.
Exhaling in annoyance, she rubbed her hands over her cheeks, hoping to get some color back, and went back to the bedroom. She stopped at the bedside to find that Reynner had finally fallen asleep. A relieved breath left her. At least he’d get some rest.
She re-checked the gauze over the wound and noticed the tie on his ponytail had slipped to the ends of his hair. Pulling it off, she sat beside him on the bed and combed the shiny strands away from his shoulder. They appeared like moonbeams sliding through her fingers.
“I’m sorry you got hurt because of me,” she whispered, her guilt expanding. “I should have stayed in the car—”
A knock sounded. Eve snatched her hand away, heat riding her face as the door opened. Her jaw hit the floor at the man striding toward her.
Where the heck was she? All the men here seemed to have walked right out of a fantasy world. He appeared to be younger than her, closer to Reynner’s height but leaner. He wore some kind of soft black pants. They molded to his muscled thighs and disappeared into well-worn, knee-high black boots. A white tunic with suede lacing in the front emphasized his muscular shoulders.
The guy’s silver eyes flickered to the bed then he turned that extraordinarily handsome face to her. “I came for a visit. But I see he is still out.”
Eve pushed to her feet. “Yes, he is.”
“I am Aerén.”
“Eve—Eve Leighton.” She hid her hands in the folds of her dress, hoping he wouldn’t expect a handshake. He didn’t. Instead, he lowered his head in a sort of half-bow, anolde worldekind of gentility.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, to know he finally found you,” Aerén said. “You don’t know what a relief this is.”
Eve frowned at his solemn expression. Oh, he must mean about the cell phone mix-up. “Yes, he did. Don’t worry, it’s all sorted out.”
“I’m glad. Eve Leighton, you have my undying gratitude. If you are ever in need of anything, you can call on me.”
For returning Reynner’s cell phone?
“Er, thank you.” Her gaze went to his hair. How could she miss that? Pale blue, like a faded summer sky, it flowed to his shoulders.
“Perhaps you would join me for a meal?” he asked her, pulling her attention back to him.
