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Night Play (Dark-Hunter 5)

Page 4

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Vane looked back at her one last time, knowing he would never see her again. She was so beautiful there with large, amber eyes set in the pale face of a goddess. There was something about her that reminded him of a Rubens angel. She was ethereal and lovely.

And far too fragile for an animal.

"No," he said quietly. "I left it with the woman I wanted to have it."

Bride felt her jaw go slack as his words hung in the air between them. "I can't take this."

He opened the door and headed out into the street.

Grabbing the bag from the counter, Bride ran after him. He was heading quickly down toward the center of the Quarter and it took her some serious rushing to catch up to him.

She took hold of his arm, amazed at the tautness of his biceps as she pulled him to a stop. Breathless, she looked up at him and those beguiling hazel-green eyes. "I can't take this," she said again, giving the bag to him. "It's way too much."

He refused to take it. "I want you to have it."

There was so much unfathomable sincerity in those words that she couldn't do anything more than gape at him. "Why?"

"Because beautiful women deserve beautiful things."

No one unrelated to her had ever said anything so kind. Today more than any other, she needed to hear it. She'd never thought any man would ever think of her that way. And to hear it from this gorgeous stranger meant the world to her. Those words reached so deep inside her that that She burst into tears.

Vane stood there feeling completely at a loss. What was this? Wolves didn't cry. A she-wolf might tear out a man's throat for pissing her off, but she never cried and especially not when someone had complimented her. "I'm sorry," he said, completely confused by what he'd done wrong. "I thought it would make you happy. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

She cried even more.

What was he supposed to do now? He looked around him, but there was no one to ask.

Screw the human in him. He didn't comprehend that part of himself, either. Instead, he listened to the animal part that only knew instinctively how to take care of someone when they were hurt.

He scooped her up into his arms and carried her back toward her store.

Animals always did better in their native environment so it only stood to reason that a human might, as well. It was easier to cope with familiar things around.

She latched on to his neck as he carried her and wept even harder. Her hot tears raised chills on his skin and he ached for her.

How could he make this better?

Bride hated herself for breaking down like this. What the hell was wrong with her? Worse, he was carrying her!

Carrying her! And he wasn't complaining that she was fat and heavy, or grunting from the strain of it. She'd jokingly asked Taylor to carry her over the threshold when they had moved in together and he had laughed, then asked her if she was trying to give him a hernia.

Later that night, Taylor had agreed to do it only if she bought him a forklift for it.

And yet here this total stranger carried her with ease down the street. For the first time in her life, she almost felt petite.

But she wasn't that delusional. Bride McTierney hadn't been petite since she was six months old.

He opened her door, stepped inside, then closed it with his boot heel.

Without breaking stride, he took her to the tall stool behind her register. He sat her down with care, then untucked his white T-shirt and used the end of it to blot her eyes.

"Ow!" she said as he almost poked her right eye out. It was a good thing she didn't wear contacts or she'd be blind.

He looked contrite. "Sorry."

"No," she said, looking up at him through her tears.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize. I didn't mean to have a nervous breakdown on you."

"Is that what this is?"

Was he serious? He definitely appeared so.

She drew in a ragged breath and wiped her eyes with her hands. "No, this is me being stupid. I'm so sorry."

He offered her a small, seductive grin. "It's okay. Really. I think."

Bride stared at him in disbelief. Why was this man in her store being so kind to her? It didn't make sense.

Was this a dream?

Trying to regain some of her dignity, she pulled his credit slip from the register box. "Here," she said, handing it to him. "Why are you giving me this?"

"Oh, come on. No one buys a necklace this expensive for a complete stranger."

Again he didn't take it. Instead, he reached inside the bag and took out the box. She watched as he unwrapped it, then placed the choker around her neck again. The contrast between his hot hands and the cool beads made her shiver.

He laced his fingers through the tendrils of her hair while gazing at her like she was some delectable dessert that he was dying to taste.

No one had ever given her such a hot look before. It wasn't natural for a man this handsome to look at her like that.

"It belongs on you. No other woman could do it justice."

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back before he called the psycho ward on her. The heat of his hand against her neck was searing. "What? Did you lose a bet or something?"

"No."

"Then why are you being so nice to me?"

He cocked his head as if puzzled by her question. "Do I need a reason?"

"Yes."

Vane was completely baffled. Humans needed a reason to be nice to each other? No wonder his kind avoided them.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted. "I didn't know there were rules for giving gifts or for trying to make someone feel better. You looked so sad as I walked by that I only wanted to make you smile."

He took a deep breath and handed her the credit slip. "Keep the necklace, please. It looks good on you, and I have no one else to give it to. I'm sure my brother wouldn't want it. He'd probably shove it someplace real uncomfortable if I gave it to him. And if he didn't, that would scare me even more."

Finally, she laughed. The sound lightened his heart instantly.

"Is that a smile?" he asked.

She nodded and sniffed delicately before she laughed again.

Returning her smile, Vane reached out and cupped her cool cheek. She was so beautiful when she laughed. Her dark amber eyes sparkled. Before he could stop himself, he leaned down and kissed the tears from her lashes.

Bride couldn't breathe as she felt the heat of his lips against her skin. No man had ever treated her like this. Not even Taylor, whom she had hoped to marry.

She inhaled the warm scent of Vane's skin. It was tinged with some sort of aftershave and a rich, masculine scent.

God, it felt so good to be held right now when her whole life was falling apart.

Before she realized what she was doing, she had her arms wrapped around his lean waist and had laid her head against his strong chest. His heart pounded heavily under her ear. She felt strangely safe here. Warm. Most of all, she felt desirable. As if maybe she weren't a total loser, after all.

He didn't protest her hold. Instead, he held her there with his hand still on her face while his thumb gently stroked her cheekbone. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head.

Heat flooded her. A deep-seated need tore through her body. It was one she didn't understand.

In all her life, Bride McTierney had never done anything other than what she was supposed to. She'd graduated high school and lived at home with her parents while she went to Tulane, where she had seldom dated and had spent more nights than not in the library.



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