Spirit Bound - Christine Feehan [61]
Judith drove back to the shed and parked the trail wagon. “Let me take another look at your neck.”
“It’s a little swollen,” Stefan admitted. “And it stings like hell, but I don’t feel like I can’t breathe. Isn’t that what you’re afraid of?”
Judith moved in close again, just behind him. Instincts and years of training honed into his very bones had him turning, catching her wrist as she lifted it to examine the sting site. He forced a smile, his thumb sliding over her skin to prevent bruising. She blinked up at him confused.
“Automatic reflexes are the devil,” he said with a disarming boyish grin.
“Don’t be a baby, let me see.”
He half turned, retaining possession of her hand, forcing her to touch his neck with the other one. The position was a little awkward, but she didn’t protest. Her fingers were gentle on his neck. The sensual brush of her touch went straight through his body. His groin tightened, flooding with hot blood in response to the warm breath against the back of his neck as she leaned in closer to inspect the swelling.
“I think the stinger is still in there, Thomas,” she said, worry in her voice.
“What does that mean?”
He couldn’t think straight and maybe the bee had gotten inside his head because he could hear a loud buzzing growing into thunder. It took a minute to realize it was his pulse pounding so loud. She had a way of throwing him without him even knowing it was happening until it was far too late to guard against her spell.
“It means I’ll have to get it out.”
“Can’t we just leave it in?”
She slipped her arm around his waist, fitting neatly under his shoulder. A slight wind stirred the trumpet trees, drawing his attention to the darting army of hummingbirds. He was going to have to go through that gauntlet to get into Judith’s house. Who knew what else his deviant brother would come up with to torture him in the hopes that he’d leave.
“No, we can’t leave it in,” Judith scolded. “And it really is swelling, Thomas. I need to put some allergy cream on it quickly. Come on.”
Without even hesitating, Judith stepped onto the narrow lane woven through the thick stand of trumpet trees with those nasty little birds just waiting to do Lev’s bidding. Two steps in and the birds flew at Stefan’s head, tiny wings buzzing loudly, the sharp beaks going at his skin, veering away at the last minute. Some protective instinct long forgotten had him wrapping his arm around Judith’s head, covering her face from the attack.
Judith let out a little shocked cry and picked up the pace with his, although she couldn’t see much, her hands up defensively. He used his body to protect hers and his arms to shield her face, his anger growing into a slow burn.
Knock it off, Lev. If she gets one scratch on her I’m going to come after you and you seriously don’t want that. He meant it too.
Stefan had come to save his brother’s life, to warn him of an assassin stalking him, but now he wanted to punch him right in that smug mouth. Lev thought he had a good gig going here, deceiving these women—Judith’s sisters—well, it just wasn’t going to continue. And if his smartass playing around caused one of the birds to attack her, Lev was getting the beating of his life.
You could try, but I doubt you’ll get more than the first punch in.
Clearly Lev had forgotten who was the older brother and in charge. Judith let out a second little sound of distress. He could feel her fear beating at him. Cold, black fury rose, smoldering just below the surface in direct proportion to her fear, always a bad sign.
You’re scaring her, you bastard.
The birds abruptly backpedaled.
Why the hell didn’t you just say so instead of posturing like a puffed up adder?
You’re right, why on earth would I give you credit for having a brain? Stefan poured