Whispers in the Dark - Maya Banks [50]
“And the cut on your leg? How did you get it?”
She glanced down and her stomach revolted as the memory of what she’d done came back with startling clarity. Pain snaked down her leg, phantom pain, as if she were enduring the knife slicing her skin all over again.
“They implanted a tracking device. When I escaped, I knew I had to cut it out so they couldn’t find me so easily.”
“Son of a bitch!” he cried hoarsely. “My God, Shea.”
To her shock, his eyes glittered with tears and grief. For her. She swallowed painfully, overcome at the emotion that shone on his face.
“My God, baby, what you went through. It makes me sick. You’ve already been through so much for me. Why didn’t you call for me before now? I could have helped you. There was no need for you to have gone through any of this. I would have helped you. You have to know that.”
She turned her face so that her lips brushed over his palm. She cupped her hand over his and kissed the rough skin. Then she trailed her hand up his arm, crossing over the scars that marred the once smooth flesh.
She touched every one and glanced up at him to see his reaction. He looked sick, like he wanted to pull away from her. She could tell he didn’t want her touching him, drawing attention to the scars that crisscrossed his body. How many more were there that she hadn’t yet seen?
“You had already endured more than any human should ever endure,” she said softly. “You needed time to heal. To go home and be with your family again. You needed to learn to live again, to want to live. I couldn’t ask you to help me when you needed so much more than I did.”
He flinched when she put her fingers to the scar on the side of his neck. He tried to turn away, but she levered herself up and cupped her hand over the puckered flesh.
“Don’t hide from me, Nathan. Don’t hide your scars from me. I more than anyone know how you received them. They aren’t ugly. They’re beautiful. Honorable. Signs of courage and of unflagging determination.”
He caught her hand and slid it down his neck to his shoulder before holding it there firmly in place. Then he leaned until his forehead touched hers and their lips were tantalizingly close.
“How is it possible that you’re more beautiful in person than you were as an angel in my mind when I was in that hell. I didn’t think it was possible and yet here you are, so fucking exquisite that I can’t even talk around the damn knot in my throat.”
He pulled the towel all the way from her body and then laid her gently back on the bed. He touched every bruise and then, to her shock, he put his mouth to one. Then another. He pressed gentle kisses to every hurt, to every ache.
Chill bumps raced across her skin, puckering her nipples into tight points. Her heart constricted as he moved meticulously down her body, lavishing sweet loving attention on her wounds.
It was a delicious mixture of arousal and emotional fulfillment. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t achingly aware of his every touch.
She’d never felt so cared for in her life.
“Beautiful. So beautiful,” he whispered. “Mine.”
She shivered at the quiet vow. His. Yes, she was his. He was hers. That decision had been made the moment she’d first heard his call.
When he got to the cut on her thigh, he pulled back and hauled the first aid kit from the floor onto the bed. With a touch so light she barely felt it, he cleaned and dressed the wound. After he finished taping the bandage, he lifted her just enough to lay her on the pillows and then he pulled the blankets to cover her naked body.
He bent down and kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep, Shea. You’re exhausted and you’re going to need your strength.”
“Where are you going?” she asked fearfully.
He kissed her again. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll be back. I just need to take care of a few things. We’ll both get some rest and we’ll travel tonight when the chances of you being spotted are fewer.”
CHAPTER 17
NATHAN paced the confines of the motel room, occasionally glancing at the bed where Shea slept. He was