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Page 21
Page 21
“You look pretty beat up to me. Let’s go and fix you up.”
He took her arm to pull her up, but she wrenched free from him as soon as she stood.
“Don’t touch me.” An instant later her stance faltered, and dizziness overwhelmed her.
“You can’t stand on your own,” he commented, a smug tone in his voice, and picked her up as if she was as light as a bag of groceries. “You’re coming with me.”
“No!” Nina protested and tried to wiggle out of Amaury’s arms, but her strength was quickly draining. “I’m not going with a vampire.”
“Tough luck—I’m the only one here. And I’m not leaving an injured woman in the street where she can get attacked again.” His voice sounded firm and unyielding. Great, not only was he a vampire, he was also a Neanderthal on steroids.
You Tarzan, me Jane.
“So, do you have a name?” he asked, carrying her undeterred through the night.
“Hmh,” she growled. He wouldn’t get a peep out of her.
“Fine, I can just keep on calling you The Blonde Who Kissed Me. By the way, nice kiss. Were you going to repeat that any time soon? ‘Cause if I call you The Blonde Who Kissed Me, I might get ideas.” The exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows was almost comical, had she been in the mood to laugh.
The man was a pill. But she didn’t want to be reminded of that kiss every few minutes. It was going to be hard enough, with being pressed against his strong chest. With every step he made, his muscles shifted and rubbed against her, sending the most delicious sensations through her aching body. It was truly irritating.
“Nina. My name is Nina,” she finally admitted. “And you’re welcome.” She lifted her chin and set her jaw.
He cocked an eyebrow.
“Hey, I saved your sorry ass back there,” she elaborated. His short-term memory was clearly in need of jogging.
“Only after I saved yours, so in my book we’re even.”
He was right, but she’d rather bite off her tongue than admit it.
“I can say thank you if you can.” His look was a challenge.
“You first.” She wouldn’t get tricked into thanking him, if he didn’t thank her first.
“No, you first,” he retorted and kept walking, carrying her as if she weighed nothing.
A young couple passed them on the sidewalk and gave them perplexed looks. Nina restrained herself from telling them to mind their own damn business.
“Forget it.”
“Brat!”
“Who are you calling a brat? Look at yourself, you oversized jerk!”
Big, hunky, sexy oversized jerk.
“Well, this oversized jerk came in handy a few minutes ago, don’t you think? And besides, you didn’t find me to be such a jerk when you kissed me last night. I remember distinctly how you were all over me.”
Embarrassment swept through her, making her cheeks flare with heat. She needed no reminder of her wanton behavior from the night before. It wasn’t how she normally reacted to men. They were to be used just the way they’d used her—nothing more, nothing less. And it had always worked for her: no emotional involvement, no abandonment of her good senses, well, not the way it had happened the night before anyway. It was merely a slip, she assured herself. Even the most determined alcoholic fell off the wagon occasionally. Now all she had to do was get back on it and forget what had happened.
As if it was that easy with the way her body tingled under his touch. His scent of leather and spice alone made her stomach spasm—and she wasn’t talking menstrual cramps, no, she was talking orgasmic spasms. She’d do well staying away from him.
“Do you need a reminder?” Amaury lowered his head.
Hell, no!
She remembered all too well. “Don’t you dare!” Nina yelled, more at herself than at him. If she allowed him to kiss her again, she’d completely melt and turn into a lump of putty. She couldn’t afford that to happen to her. Once had been sufficient, thank you very much.
He grinned down at her with his bad-boy charm that turned her insides to mush.
“Maybe later?” he asked and continued walking along, seemingly unaffected by her outburst.
Nina glanced around, trying to get her bearings. They were still in the Tenderloin and only a block from his place.
“Where are you taking me?” She could guess, but wanted confirmation.
“My place. I doubt you’d want me to bring you to a hospital. Am I right?”
A hospital wouldn’t be a good choice. With her injuries, she was sure they’d involve the police. Not only was she not going to be able to explain to them that she’d been in a fight with vampires, but her own background would come up in the process. And she preferred her background to remain where is was—in the dark.