And he didn't know, yet, how badly Rhia was injured.
"Guess that means he's got a car," she said, slurring her words a little.
They both froze once more as an engine roared to life somewhere nearby. Tires squealed and spat gravel. Nikolas watched through the grimy window as a nondescript gray hatchback of unknown vintage raced away on the windswept highway, trailing a plume of smoky exhaust.
"Which is another thing he has and we haven't," he said lightly as he returned to Rhia. hoping his face wouldn't give away the helplessness and frustration he felt…the crushing sense of self-blame. The anger-at Vladimir, of course, but mostly at himself.
He was shaking inside as he took her face between his hands…frowned tenderly while he studied it feature by feature for damage. His knees went weak and he let out a breath of profound thanksgiving when he found it apparently untouched. Her skin was definitely paler, though, than her usual vivid coloring, and when he kissed her forehead, it felt clammy and cool to his lips.
"Sweetheart," he said huskily. "I am so sorry. This is my fault-I underestimated him. You were right. I was still thinking of him as my father-the man who raised me…"
Her head jerked quickly from side to side-she was beginning to shake all over. now. Through chattering teeth, she mumbled, "No, no-I was distracted, too. I let him get to me. Wasn't on my guard. He…just reminded me so much of someone…"
Startled enough by that to tear his eyes away from his examination of her neck and throat, he said. "Really? Who?"
"Dammit, Nik." She hauled in a breath and her eyes flared hot. bringing some of the color back into her cheeks. "Except for being totally insane, I swear the sonofabitch is just like my father. Cold, arrogant, supercilious…so bloody insufferably certain every thought in his head is gospel, his every opinion a fact. Stop it, damn you. I'm not joking!"
He was shaking with silent laughter. "Rhee, my love. I'm not laughing about your father-believe me. I'm not. Just… hearing a Louisiana Cajun swear like a Brit…got to me. Sorry." He touched his lips to hers and said tenderly. "I want to hold you so badly, but I'm afraid I'll hurt you. Will you let me have a look at the damage?"
She closed her eyes and gave a shivery laugh as she swayed slightly toward him. "I'm almost afraid to look. It hurts like such bloody hell."
"I hate to say it, but…that's probably a good thing. Third-degree burns don't hurt-the nerves are destroyed." And she would never know, from the blithe way he said the words, that he was half-dizzy with nausea at the thought of the destruction of even the smallest part of her. "So, tell me, dear heart, at the risk of cliche… where does it hurt?"
"I got my arm up in time to keep the teapot from hitting me in the head…deflected most of the water away from my face, at least." Her teeth were chattering again, and her nipples stood out in sharp relief under the wet-now cold-pullover. Naturally, his ignorant body, oblivious to anything but that familiar signal, insisted on reacting to it in the usual way as he slipped his hands under the bottom edge of her shirt. "I think…the jacket may have protected me, too." Rhia said. "Some went down inside…down my front. That's where it hurts the most."
Her breath hissed sharply between her teeth as he pulled the clinging fabric away from her skin. He had to hold his own breath to keep it from doing the same when he drew the shirt slowly and carefully up and over her head and saw the splash of angry red welts across her chest and the tops of her breasts, down the valley between and on to her stomach. He looked away, swearing viciously.
"This, too." she said in a choked voice, tugging at the front of her bra where it met scalded skin.
With unsteady fingers he unsnapped the front clasp and eased the two halves apart, then slipped the straps over her shoulders, all the while keeping his gaze focused on the little silver replica of a saxophone hanging from its thin chain nestied between her breasts, lifting slightly with each muted breath. Rage stung his eyes and the saxophone seemed to shimmer as if in agreement.
"Anywhere else?" His voice sounded cold; he had to make it so in order to maintain even a small measure of control.
She shook her head. "Just a little bit in my scalp…not too bad, Nik…" He lifted his eyes to her face, and they felt like deadweights. She was gazing at him. eyes soft…the color of whiskey. Her fingers touched his face.
A tremor shook him. He said harshly. "I can't remember- what the devil is first aid for burns?"
Her lips trembled into a smile. "Cold water…antibiotics…something to make it stop hurting…" She leaned in and touched his mouth with her smile. Her lips were cold…he felt them warm and soften against his. and juices pooled at the back of his throat as if he'd tasted something unbearably sweet. "There," she whispered against his lips, "that's the best painkiller there is…"
An easing breath poured silently from him as he took her head between his two hands. Holding it like a priceless treasure, he closed his eyes and let his mouth find its way to hers again…sank into it. and felt it begin to heal his wounded soul.
But even without touching her body he could feel her shivering. She was cold. hurt, possibly in shock, and his muscles ached to hold her close, to warm, protect and nourish her. make her all right again. The fact that he couldn't do any of those things brought the rage simmering inside him to a boil again. He'd been a believer in nonviolence all his life; it astonished him that he could feel such a powerful urge to kill.
He left the sweet solace of her mouth reluctantly, pressed his lips to her forehead instead. "My love, you're shivering. There's a blanket in my car, I think. Not much of a heater, though. You 're better off staying here while I go and see what I can find. Here-sit down. Maybe see if you can raise Elliot on your cell phone." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Back in a flash."
He let go of her and strode jerkily from the room, only then discovering how badly shaken he was.
Outside, he retrieved the blanket from the car's boot- dusty and smelling damp-and confirmed his suspicion that the tires were indeed casualties of war. He shook out the blanket as best he could, then wadded it up and headed back to the kitchen. "Here, luv-not terribly clean, but at least it's warm. I'm going to see if there's anything in the garage to patch a tire-" He halted. Rhia wasn't sitting where he'd left her, but was standing beside the window, frowning at the cell phone in her hand. "What is it? No signal?"
She shook her head and made a little grimace of annoyance. "Not even a smidgen."
Nikolas pulled in a careful breath and tried to make his tone light. "Then I'm afraid we're-pardon the expression-royally screwed. This place has been shut down for years-no power, no telephone…I suppose I might try building a fire, perhaps send up a few smoke signals…"
"You can…" Rhia paused, biting her lower lip in concentration as she tugged at something on the back of her belt"… I guess, if you have a really strong desire to practice your Boy Scout merit-badge skills. Or, we can use this." She held up a little black box about the size of a deck of playing cards.
"Don't-" he did a double take and stared at the thing sideways "-tell me that's a-"
"Yep-emergency radio beacon. All we have to do is open it like this-" she was demonstrating as she spoke "-and hit this little button right here…and we're in business." Her valiant efforts to hold back a gleeful smile produced a dimple he'd never seen before, and her eyes had the glow of aged brandy.
He could only gaze at her and slowly shake his head. "A man could easily develop one hell of an inferiority complex hanging around you-you know that, don't you?"
"Donovan, I doubt you're in danger of ever having an inferior anything." The sultry look she gave him from under her eyelashes quickened his pulse and reminded him graphically of the fact that she was naked from the waist up-something she'd apparently forgotten. "Anyway," she said with a shrug, "I can't take the credit. It's standard issue for all Lazlo's agents. First time I've ever used mine-I've always considered it kind of a nuisance, to tell you the truth. Just one more thing to carry."