Page 8 of The Beast's Baby
“They couldn’t,” he said firmly.
And in a blink, that treacherous suction went away, because he had no empathy for her. In fact, she doubted he even had any sympathy. All he saw her as was no more than a means to an end. Was it because she wasn’t entirely human? Was that what made it easy for him to look at her like no more than a slab of meat? Was that the reason for how all she was to him, the second she set foot in his laboratory, was a needed cog in the machine, whether he was turning the knobs and twisting the levers or not?
She felt her cheeks heat with the humiliation.
To be seen as nothing more than a bag of blood.
She hadn’t signed up for that.
“What’s Phase Two?” she asked.
It had been a big part of why she hadn’t slept; not knowing exactly what to expect up ahead was driving her crazy.
“Please,” she said. “I just want to know what I’m in for here.”
He glanced at her, those green eyes seemingly greener than ever and she felt a need for them to be on her. Wanting them to see her as more than some lab rat. She had to find some way to bring compassion into them because she could sense it was there, underneath it all. She thought she could see it coloring the outer rim of his irises a darker shade, but then she realized it was probably an effect from the sweater he was wearing and not a sign that he might be brimming with emotion for her. Eyes didn’t change colors depending on mood, did they?
She was holding her breath and sighed it out softly, hoping that he would at least humor her.
“Phase Two is about compatibility,” he said, the touch of his fingertips as they pressed for a vein startling her. She’d been so focused on what would come out of his mouth next that she hadn’t expected the touch.
Come to think of it, wasn’t the ritual bloodletting taking longer today? He seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace. Was it because he wanted an excuse to let his hands linger on her? Was all not quite as lost as she had thought? Perhaps compassion wasn’t what she needed to bring out of him after all and her first instinct had been right on the money that she gotten to him so good that he was now hooked on feeling her skin against his.
She ignored the soft goosebumps that spread over her shoulders at that thought. She wasn’t the one who should be reacting—he was. But when he slipped his fingertips along the vein that was beginning to protrude she found herself drawing a slight breath. His eyes met hers and her heart nearly stopped.
Had he heard her?
The last thing she needed was him finding out that he was affecting her in any way. Because he wasn’t ever going to again. She just hadn’t been prepared.
“Didn’t need to slap me at all, did you?” she asked, his eyes still resting on hers. She thought he’d answer quickly and that they’d move on from the fact that the hairs on her arms were standing up, but he didn’t. So, she changed her approach, asking, “What does compatibility mean?”
“The compatibility of certain genes,” he said.
“What? Like splicing?” she asked.
“Something like that,” he nodded. “Are you a scientist?”
“I watch movies.” She shrugged.
The movement made him take a slightly harder hold on her arm since it made him almost miss the mark with the needle. She didn’t know why the goosebumps kept spreading. She couldn’t understand why there was a soft ache beginning to make itself known between her legs. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to be producing these sensations and yearnings in him—not the other damn way around.
What was happening to her? She usually had better self-control than this.
“Someone will be in to talk you through Phase Two tomorrow,” he said, then paused.
Isobel realized that he had an earpiece in his ear. She had never seen him wear one before. Had he and she’d simply missed it, or had her opening up for communication made it a necessity? He gnawed his teeth, his jawline working, and then he said, “I can tell you about Phase Two.”
Whoever was in his ear must rank higher and had given the go ahead. Why didn’t he look very thrilled about it?
He removed the first needle. “Let’s finish the task at hand first,” he said.
“That’s not very reassuring,” she offered.
“Why not?” he asked.
“You sound like I won’t like what you have to say. Better to finish what we’re doing in case you need to sedate me once you’ve told me,” she replied.
“That’s a bit dramatic,” he said, eyes on hers again and that stupid suction in her belly returned as there was some sort of glimmer there. As though he was a moment away from cracking a smile.
