Lord, it was hard to argue when he was touching her. She never had this manner of skin to skin contact with a man and could only liken it to being hugged in a towel fresh from the dryer. Or sinking into a hot bath. The cool temperature of his skin did nothing to stop the goosebumps from rising on her arms or the tiny wrench to twist beneath her belly button.
Fight the distraction. She had to. Jonas knew there was a vampire purposefully putting her in dangerous situations and she had no information left to withhold. This could be the last time she looked into his eyes and knew him.
But then, his thumb found her Achilles, pressing and sweeping along the sore tendon—and Ginny moaned.
Jonas’s open mouth dragged up her bare thigh, searing her skin, stopping just short of her dress’s hem. “This is madness. How do you pull me under like this?”
“You do the same to me,” she managed, breathily, sliding her fingers into his hair. “Don’t make this go away. Please.”
His hand tightened on her leg. “The longer I let you keep your memories of me, Ginny, the harder it will be once they’re gone.” He pressed his face to her stomach, using his grip on her calf to tug her closer. Until she could feel the outline of his features against her belly. “You’ll lose days, weeks, as opposed to hours.”
“And once I’ve forgotten you exist, you’ll stay away, just like that?”
Jonas’s shoulders tensed, his fingers on her skin. “We’ll have to wait a little longer to find out,” he said hoarsely. “Knowing it’s a vampire trying to bring you harm, and not some easily overcome human, changes everything. I need you alert and I need you to trust me implicitly. Without Roksana to watch you during the day, I have to bring you somewhere without sunlight. To protect you until this is over.”
Oxygen trapped itself in her lungs. “Meaning?”
Jonas leaned away, the green sparks shooting off in his eyes telling Ginny how much their closeness was affecting him.
“Pack,” he said, doom lacing his tone. “You’re coming with me.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“You’re coming with me.” Jonas gave Ginny’s legs one last, longing look and stood. “I can’t and won’t leave you here alone while your safety is in jeopardy—and I can’t stay.”
“There are no windows in the basement. You could stay there.”
“With the other corpses, you mean?” he drawled. “I suppose I could stay down there during the day, but you’ll have to remain there with me where I can protect you.”
“The daytime is Larissa’s shift.”
“Can you swap?”
“No, she’ll refuse. She thinks the morgue is scarier at night, which doesn’t really track, because there are no windows. It could be noon or midnight and you’d never be able to tell.”
“Then we have our answer.” He strode to the window, clenching and unclenching his hands while scanning the street below. “Please get packing.”
Ginny shot to her feet and whirled around, wincing inwardly when her Achilles protested. “Who exactly do you think is going to run this place?”
He turned with a regal eyebrow raised. “Are there any bodies downstairs waiting for you?”
“It’s been a slow week,” she responded, feeling kind of defensive. “Fall is upon us. People tend to try and stick it out through the holidays.”
Jonas’s sigh was weary and amused, all at once. “So help me God, Ginny…” His throat worked. “It will forever be one of the universe’s greatest mysteries that you’ve remained here for twenty-four years without turning every male you meet into a lovesick fool who worships at your feet.”
“That sounds horrible,” she whispered, shaken. “I hate clutter.”
His laugh was somehow adoring and sad at the same time.
Ginny looked down at her hands. What was she supposed to be doing again?
Packing. Leaving. To go live with the vampires. Right.
“Um. I can leave a note for Larissa about spending the night with a friend. She won’t believe it. It’s only slightly more plausible than being targeted for death by a formidable vampire. But it will have to do.” She turned in a circle, trying to remember where she kept her overnight bag. Did she even own one? “I will need to come back tomorrow night and work, though. I can’t neglect this place.”
“I know your father’s legacy is important to you, Ginny.”
Knowing he’d listened and committed her worries to memory made wings flap beneath her breastbone. “Yes. It is.” She unearthed a small, dusty suitcase from the back of her closet and piled essentials inside, including a dress for tomorrow, her hairbrush and a bottle of perfume. Before she opened her underwear drawer, she gave Jonas a pointed look and he turned his back like a gentleman.
Satisfied he wasn’t watching her dig through her abundance of sensible, full coverage panties, Ginny began to sift. Instead of taking out a perfectly functional white cotton pair, something rebellious lit inside of her—probably sparked by Roksana—and she opened a pack of midnight blue bikini-cut panties she’d never worn once. Some had glittery stars and moons all over them, others were sunshine and clouds. She’d bought them on sale at Kohl’s after too much coffee and was grateful for them now. Jonas might never set eyes on them, but maybe they’d make her feel more in control, the way her dresses did.