Jake grimaced. "We barely survived Jasper and Monica—how are we going to survive six of the bastards?"
"Not all vampires are as sick as Jasper." He couldn't help the edge of self-derision in his voice. Mainly because many of them were—even him, in times past. And given what Seline had told him, these six certainly rated high in that category.
"Great." Jake took a deep breath. "Look, I'll let you go back and get some rest. I told Nik to page me when she wakes."
Michael returned to the other suite and walked into the bedroom, stopping near the bed. He watched her breathe and listened to the steady beat of her heart—a siren's song that stirred the darkness in him despite his tight leash of control. He let his gaze drink in her face, from the fullness of her mouth to the small lines of laughter beginning to appear near her eyes. Lines that had not been there when they'd first met.
He stripped and climbed into bed. She stirred, her thoughts touching his, warm and fuzzy with sleep, yet still flushed with pain. Closing his eyes, he reached into her mind, easing the surface turmoil, drawing in her pain. After a while, she sighed, and her frown disappeared. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. And, for the first time in weeks, felt a sense of peace. Coming home had never felt so good.
Heat wrapped around her, pressed against her. Hands caressed her, hands that were strong and yet so gentle as they explored her body and teased it to life.
Nikki sighed, enjoying his touch until it became an ache that thrummed through her entire being. Only then did she turn. She met his gaze, her stomach flip-flopping as she momentarily lost herself in the ebony warmth of his eyes.
"The wanderer returns," she murmured, trailing her finger down his cheek, gently outlining his full lips.
"All I need now is coffee, and my life is once again complete."
He raised a dark eyebrow, amusement in his eyes. "Really?" His hand slipped between her legs. "You sure I can't interest you in anything else?"
Pleasure rippled through her. "Well, maybe there is one other thing I might be interested in." Her voice came out a little breathless, and she growled in frustration when his touch left her.
He smiled and caught her hand, kissing her fingertips. "I have discovered something over these last three weeks."
"What's that?" She hooked a leg over his hip and pulled him close, so that the hard length of him rested against her. Gently, she began rocking her hips.
Heat slithered through the link between them, wildfire ready to explode.
"I've discovered that celibacy is not something I care for."
"Well, don't come to me looking for pity. You're the one who won't let me accompany you."
"I know, but someone has to keep you safe." He leaned forward and kissed her with a tender urgency that shivered through her entire being.
"I don't want safe," she said against his lips. "I just want you."
His gaze met hers, rich with desire and love. "You have my heart, you have my soul, and right now, you can have as much of my body as you can handle."
She raised an eyebrow, a grin teasing her lips. "I can handle quite a lot, you know."
"I certainly hope so," he murmured and rolled on top of her.
She shifted her legs to accommodate him, and he slid deep inside. "Oh my," she whispered, wrapping her legs around him. "That's an awful lot of missing you have there."
He grinned at her. "You haven't felt the half of it yet, my love."
And he proceeded to show her just what he meant.
The scent of fresh coffee stirred her sometime later. She yawned and stretched and decided she felt like a cat who'd just feasted on cream—deliciously wicked and terribly contented. It was, she thought with a smile, amazing just how much several hours of good loving could improve your outlook on life.
Michael appeared in the doorway. He'd obviously taken a shower because his dark hair was still damp.
He was barefoot, and looked damn sexy in thigh hugging jeans and a black cotton sweater—one, she noted with pleasure, that she'd bought him just before he'd left for Ireland.
"Coffee, ma'am," he said, placing a tray on her bedside table. "And breakfast."
She scooted up in the bed and accepted the coffee he handed her. She took a sip—it was strong and sweet and just the way she liked it—and sighed in contentment. "Now I am a happy woman."
"So easily pleased," he teased and sat down beside her. "How is your arm?"
She glanced down in surprise, having totally forgotten about it. The doctor had placed a clear plastic film over the wound, and it was easy to see that there was no sign of infection. "Fine. Doesn't even hurt when I move it."
He touched her arm, gently probing around the wound. "It should nearly be healed, but we'll leave the film on until tomorrow."
She nodded and tried to ignore the sliver of unease. When he'd shared his life force with her, he'd also shared his amazing healing capabilities. It was something she was still trying to adjust to.
"Tell me about the vampire who attacked you."
She shrugged and sipped her coffee. "There's not much to tell. He had to be a fairly new vampire, and he was pretty much convinced of his invincibility."
"Most newly turned are," Michael said, voice dry. "Comes with the condition, I'm afraid."
She raised an eyebrow. "Were you?"
His dark gaze searched hers. She wondered why. "Yes," he said after a moment, "though it took me less time than others to realize my mortality."
"Why?"
He hesitated. "Elizabeth generally liked her men young and in harems. I was but one of three she turned that year, and the shock of learning that—combined with having to fight for her affections—brought me to my senses sooner."
Pain slithered through her, even though she knew it was ridiculous. They both had pasts—and ex's—that were best forgotten. Yet she hadn't given up life and everything she'd ever known for her ex-. "So why did you stay with her?"
He smiled—a gentle, loving smile that warmed her entire being. "I have never said I was very bright back then."
Which didn't entirely answer her question, but she didn't push.
"Can you remember anything else about this vampire?" he asked.
She frowned. "He was wearing a leather jacket. And biker's colors."
Though he raised an eyebrow, he didn't seem surprised. "Did you recognize them?"
She shook her head. "I wasn't exactly concentrating on them. But he knew my name, which has to mean he somehow knew I was coming."
"Yes. And until we know exactly why that vamp was after you, we had better be doubly careful." He glanced at the clock. "Jake will be up here in a few minutes. Apparently his friend is getting pretty worried."
It was close to four, so no wonder. Nearly nine hours had passed, and no attempt had been made to find his wife. "I'll just finish this, then I'll dress."
He touched her cheek, his fingers warm against her skin. "Are you sure you're up to this? It could be pretty bad."
She frowned, her gaze searching his. "You're here because of the kidnappings, aren't you?" Not because of her. Disappointment mixed with anger, and she looked away, trying to conceal her hurt.
Which was stupid, really, when he could read her thoughts as easily as he breathed.
He touched her chin, bringing her gaze back to his. "Do you doubt that I love you?"
"No, but—" His voice was gentle yet unyielding. "Do you have any doubt about how much I needed to see you?"
She grinned faintly. "After this morning's efforts? Not one."
"Then do not doubt me when I say that no matter where you were, that is where I would have gone first.
Nothing else was more important to me."