Page 41 of Bite at First Sight

“I hope you think so.” Her cheeks turned crimson as she continued. “You will, ah, have to remove your shirt.”

Her unexpected coyness delighted him. When he unfastened the buttons and shrugged out of his shirt, her quick intake of breath intrigued him further. Cassandra’s gaze swept his bare chest with tangible intensity.

Rafe’s mouth went dry as she slowly reached out to grasp his bad arm.

“I believe that if I work the muscles manually, the tension will loosen and they will begin to function as they should.” Her tone remained clinical but held a shy tremor that he found endearing. “And I think this will ameliorate your pain.”

Too bad she’d hidden her face behind her tumble of burnished curls. Rafe blinked, suddenly realizing that she’d never worn her hair down in her lab before. It was all he could do not to reach up and caress the tendrils. He observed her closer. Her gown was fancier as well, the blue taffeta revealing far more of her bosom than the peach muslin she’d worn earlier.

His musing ceased as her soft, warm hands wrapped around his bicep and applied the most delicious pressure. Rafe couldn’t hold back a groan of pleasure.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked worriedly.

“Dios, no. Do not stop.” Despite her innocent touch, he found himself hardening.

Cassandra resumed her heavenly ministrations, transporting him to a realm of bliss. As she kneaded the sore, stiff muscles, the agonizing tension loosened. Rafe threw back his head and closed his eyes.

“You are a miracle worker, Querida,” he murmured.

“Nonsense, I merely gathered the knowledge from books and Wakley’s teachings and successfully applied it.”

Rafe chuckled and looked up at her. “It amuses me how you continue to shy away from the fantastical despite all you’ve been through recently.”

“The existence of vampires does not negate science,” she countered, blatantly avoiding his gaze.

He was about to counter that science wasn’t everything, but then he paused as realization dawned. Cassandra’s fixation on cold logic was likely because she lost her parents in such painful circumstances. She’d never known a miracle, only tragedy. An ache bloomed in his heart.

“My mother also died when I was young,” he said quietly.

She paused in her rubbing to place her warm hand on his, her voice soft with compassion. “What was she like?”

“Strong and beautiful. Or so my father told me. He was a conquistador, sent to subdue the ‘savages’ in the Americas and bring gold to the king of Spain. When he met my mother, it was she who conquered him.” He smiled ruefully, surprised at how the story still affected him after all these centuries. “She died of smallpox shortly after I was born, along with the majority of her tribe. Grief stricken, my father brought me back to Spain.”

Cassandra’s eyes glittered with aching sympathy. “So you never knew her. How tragic.”

He shrugged, trying to sound indifferent. “Perhaps it is best that way. I imagine I would have missed her more, had I knew her.”

She remained silent for a long time, rubbing his shoulder with blissful, rhythmic pressure. “Well, I understand where you inherited your exotic coloring.”

Rafe smiled at her attempt to cheer the mood. “Yes, my grandmother called me her ‘little savage’ due to my looks and my temper. Eventually the term became an endearment.”

“Ah, so you’ve always been volatile?” Cassandra teased. “Somehow that does not surprise me.” She removed her hands and stretched. Her knuckles cracked loudly in the peaceful quiet of the lab.

He frowned in concern. “I think you’ve done enough for the evening. I don’t want you wearing yourself to the bone.”

She nodded. “All right. How do you feel now?”

Rafe extended his arm and flexed his fingers. “The pain is much abated and the stiffness has all but vanished. My mouth feels very dry, but I think that is from the drug…” He eyed her delicious pulse on her throat. Or my craving for you.

“I am pleased to hear my treatment is effective.” She grabbed a leather ball the size of a billiard ball and handed it to him. “Now I want you to squeeze this repeatedly every night to exercise and strengthen your fingers.”

He frowned, resenting the return of her cool, practical demeanor. “Very well.”

Cassandra wasn’t finished with her orders. Facing him squarely, despite the sudden blush that returned to her cheeks, she demanded, “And you must stop sleeping on the floor. Such a hard surface can do nothing but ill for the healing process.”

Rafe’s brows rose in astonishment. Surely she could not mean… “But I must share your room to guard you, and I cannot very well have you sleeping on the floor.”

She shrugged, though her blush deepened. “I know, though truly it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle. The bed is, well…very large.”

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