Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [259]
He opened the door carefully, as if he was having to think before each movement. His control was a trembling line between his rage and me.
He was six foot one, broad-shouldered, with high-sculpted cheekbones, and a wide soft mouth. There was a dimple in his chin, and he was altogether too handsome. His eyes were still perfect chocolate brown; only the pain in them was new. His hair fell in thick waves around his shoulders, a brown so full of gold and copper highlights that there should have been a different word for it. Brown is a dull word, and his hair was not dull. I’d loved running my hands through his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it when we kissed.
He was wearing a blood-red tank top that left his muscular shoulders and arms bare. I knew that every inch of him you could see, and what you could not, was tanned a nice soft brown. But it wasn’t really tanned, just his natural skin color.
My heart was beating in my throat, but it wasn’t fear. He stared at me in the black dress. Face scrubbed clean of makeup, my hair uncombed, and I felt his body react to the sight of me. I felt it like a twist in my own body. I had to close my eyes to keep from looking at his jeans to see if what I was feeling was visible.
When I opened my eyes, he hadn’t moved. He just stood there in the middle of the room, hands balled into fists, breathing a little too hard. His eyes were wild, showing too much white like a horse about to bolt.
I found my voice first. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk.” I sounded breathless. It was like I could feel Richard’s heart, his chest rising and falling, like it was my own. I’d had moments of this with Jean-Claude, but never with Richard. If we’d still been seeing each other, it would have been intriguing. Now, it was just confusing.
He relaxed his hands, flexing them, fighting not to make fists. “Jean-Claude said he was protecting us from each other. Keeping us from getting too close until we were ready. I didn’t believe him, until now.”
I nodded. “It’s awkward.”
He smiled, and shook his head, but the smile never took the anger out of his eyes. “Awkward? Is that all it is to you, Anita? Just awkward?”
“You can feel what I’m feeling, right now, Richard. Answer your own damn question.”
He closed his eyes and pressed his hands together in front of his chest. He pressed his palms together until his arms trembled with the effort and the muscles corded, straining against his skin all the way up to his shoulders.
I felt him withdraw from me. Though that doesn’t cover how it felt. It was like he built a wall between us. He was raising mental shields between us. Someone had to. I hadn’t thought to try. The sight and feel of him in my mind had turned me into a pulsing hormone. It was too embarrassing for words.
I watched his body relax, a muscle at a time, until he opened his eyes, slowly, almost sleepily, his body quiet, at peace. I’d never been that good at meditation.
He lowered his arms and looked at me. “Better?”
I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
He shook his head. “Don’t thank me. It was either control it or run screaming.”
We stood there, staring at each other. The silence was uncomfortably thick. “What do you want, Richard?”
He gave a choking laugh that brought heat in a rush up my face. “You know what I meant,” I said.
“Yes,” he said, “I know what you meant. You invoked your status as lupa while I was out of town.”
“You mean protecting Stephen?”
He nodded. “You had no right to go against Sylvie’s express orders. She was the one I left in charge, not you.”
“She’d removed pack protection from him. Do you know what that means?”
“Better than you do,” he said. “Without protection of a dominant you’re anybody’s meat