Page 37 of Destined for Shadows
It wasn’t her fault,he told himself. She didn’t know what had been done to him, and her intentions weren’t truly bad. In her mind, she was trying to help him the best way she knew how. And there was a strong attraction between them whether he liked it or not.
“It’s okay,” she soothed.
Soft fingertips ran up his neck, and she pulled his head down toward her. Bartol still didn’t open his eyes, but he made himself imagine her face. It was a struggle, and he shook with the effort. Kerbasi’s conditioning was strong. Flickers of the images he’d implanted flashed behind Bartol’s eyelids, and he winced.
Cori’s breath fanned his cheek. “I would never hurt you.”
He wanted to believe that—he truly did. His throat closed so tightly he couldn’t respond to her or make any sound. Then her moist lips pressed to his cheek. All thoughts of anything except her fled for that brief moment she touched him, and the scent and feel of Cori filled his senses. It was the most peace he’d felt in longer than he could remember.
She pulled away. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He opened his eyes, finding her several feet away now.
Her gaze dipped but not fast enough that he didn’t catch a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “You didn’t fight me. I really thought you would, and I was prepared to let the kiss go if you were insistent.”
She’d fooled him. He’d been rather certain she would have tackled him to the ground if necessary. Cori was the kind of woman who didn’t take no for an answer easily. Not only that, but she had such an easy confidence about her that it was easy to forget she often hid any feelings that might make her appear weak. She’d worried he would reject her. Somehow, that bothered him more than anything else that had just happened.
“It was not…quite as bad as I imagined,” he admitted.
She stared at him for a long moment, judging his truthfulness. He held her gaze. Let her see for herself that he didn’t find her revolting despite his reservations. Of course, if he’d been smarter, he would let her think otherwise. This would only bring Bartol more trouble, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He knew now that he had the power to hurt her.
Her shoulders eased, and she gave him a satisfied smile. “Good. It will be even better next time when you have to kiss me.”
“Wait.” He held his hands up in a plea for mercy. “I didn’t mean to insinuate…”
“Too late.” Cori grabbed her purse from a side table next to the couch. “Let’s get going. I’ve even taken some Dramamine, so I shouldn’t get sick this time.”
Bartol moved toward her slowly. He might have handled her kiss better than expected, but that only made him more cautious about holding her. She was a match to his powder keg. If they ignited, who knew where the pieces of them might land.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
She spun on her heels, back straight as she waited for him. Bartol stood there a moment longer, building up the courage to touch her. How would it be to hold her now?
“I promise not to bite or kiss you again…for now,” she said, glancing over her shoulder and giving him a soft look. “You can do this.”
Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close to his chest. She fit there perfectly. The number of women he’d had over the centuries was more numerous than Bartol could count, and though his memories of them had been twisted, he was certain none of them had affected him the way Cori did right then.
Bartol forced himself to concentrate on her tattoo studio, particularly the waiting area. The image of a darkened room came to his mind. He made out the shapes of couches and chairs, swung his angle around, and caught sight of the counter with the cash register. On the back wall, there were dozens of photos of various tattoos and hand-drawn designs. No one lurked or hid in the store that he could find.
He pulled his energy together and flashed them into the studio, moving with dizzying effect. In that brief moment they traveled with lightning speed, Bartol’s mood altered. The feel of Cori’s body began to be replaced by the females in his nightmares. Women with fangs and claws, tearing into him with no regard for the pain they caused. Agony raced through his body, and it was all he could do to keep a grip on reality. As soon as their feet settled on the tiled floor, he pulled away. To his regret, even Cori couldn’t keep the torturous images away for long.
She walked unsteadily toward the light switch and flipped it. Bartol’s unease faded as brightness filled the room and pushed away his dark thoughts. His gaze met Cori’s. She didn’t appear green this time, but concern for him shown in her eyes. She was about to ask him uncomfortable questions—he was sure of it.
“I will inspect the rest of the place,” he said, escaping her.
Bartol flashed into each of the back rooms—Cori’s work area, a bathroom, and a storage room. He found no lurking vampires inside or anything else suspicious.
He returned to Cori, leaving a good ten feet between them. “All is clear.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a tight smile. “You can go now.”
She’d just dismissed him without meeting his gaze. As much as he was ready to leave, he didn’t understand the change in her mood. “Your former husband may not be here now, but he could visit at any time. Call me if he does.”
Cori lifted her chin, and a spark flashed in her hazel eyes. “If he shows up, I’ll handle him. Don’t worry.”
“He’s a vampire. You cannot handle him by yourself,” he insisted. How could the woman not see he was trying to protect her?
“Melena was fighting them long before she became immortal.”
