Bunching up the covers, he leaned over to check again. The wound, too small to notice unless you were looking for it, had already closed up. He needn't worry about more mundane forms of infection, either.

That was a relief. But it didn't address his other problem. He needed to convince her that his thoughts were still with her, even if he was not. A note, perhaps?

He shook his head. No. Aside from being hopelessly passé, a sample of his handwriting would only give her another thing to question. His penmanship had changed over the years, the more elaborate flourishes dropping away as he adapted to the faster pace of the world around him. But it still bore more resemblance to the engraved inside of a greeting card than contemporary script. No, he needed a way to give her his message without words.

Flowers. He'd say it with flowers. He grinned, certain that he'd solved the dilemma. A bouquet of hand-picked flowers, left on the pillow, would convince her of his feelings. All he had to do was go out and pick them before the sun came up.

He slid his arm gently out of her grasp. Rebecca mumbled in her sleep and reached for him, but seemed content with the corner of her pillow she'd grabbed. He dropped a light kiss at her temple.

"Sleep well. I'll be back before you know I'm gone."

Moving silently, he eased out of bed, then located and put on yesterday's clothes. He didn't have time to shower and find the suit he wanted to wear to the meeting. He'd do that when he got back.

The door opened with a faint click, and he slipped into the living room. Gillian was sound asleep, burrowed under her covers, but he left her door open so that Rebecca could hear her if she cried out.

He held his breath as he triggered the front door lock, but either it was too far away or Rebecca had grown too accustomed to the noise for it to disturb her. He stepped out into the hallway and guided the door closed. Then he turned and ran for the stairwell. Few wildflowers bloomed on the Institute property, and he didn't have much time to find them. The sun would be coming up soon.

He laughed, appreciating the irony. His gesture proved how important she was to him, but because she was so important to him, he couldn't risk driving her away in order to explain the reason why.

Chapter 12

DESMOND CUT the timing close, waiting until the sky began to grow light before he returned. He'd hoped to find something better for Rebecca, but aside from the flowering cacti whose prickers seemed to send the wrong message, he'd seen only flowering weeds. He'd gathered a big bouquet of the prettiest blossoms, a double handful, yet still lingered outside in case the pre-dawn light revealed another flower he'd missed.

It didn't. He shut himself safely away bare minutes before the distinct glow of sunrise gilded the eastern horizon.

Gillian was still fast asleep, although she'd kicked her quilt onto the floor. Desmond picked it up with his free hand and settled it over his sleeping daughter. She mumbled something around the thumb in her mouth, and tightened her stranglehold on her beloved Pooh. He watched her sleep for a moment longer, then eased her door shut and slipped into Rebecca's room.

He intended to leave the flowers on the pillow beside her, but while he'd been outside she'd preempted his pillow, and now held it tucked tight against her chest. He pushed the blankets down to clear a spot beside her, and piled the flowers there. She didn't seem to have moved much while he'd been gone, except to steal his pillow. She probably wouldn't roll over on the flowers.

He considered the tableau a few minutes longer, then plumped the covers beside her to form a gentle ridge. That should be enough to discourage her from turning over. Satisfied that his gift would remain safe, he left her and went to take his shower and get dressed.

Half an hour later, he strolled into the kitchen, a towel slung around his neck to protect the raw silk of his jacket from his still damp hair. He put a pot of water on to boil, and took one of his medicine bottles out of the refrigerator. The liquid needed to be kept in cold storage, but he preferred to warm it before drinking it if he could.

He caught the refrigerator door with his elbow before it could close. He'd stayed out late. Very late. How much sunlight had he absorbed? Enough to damage his skin? He pulled out a second bottle, just to be on the safe side, and put them both in the pot of warm water. While he waited for the medicine to heat up, he busied himself making coffee.

By the time Mrs. Waters arrived promptly at five forty-five, he'd already drained both bottles, rinsed them, and stacked them to be returned and refilled. Sipping his second cup of coffee, he walked into the living room to greet her when she buzzed herself in.

"Good morning, Mrs. Waters. Thank you for coming early."

"Pish." She dismissed his thanks with a wave, and set her knitting supplies on the couch. "You know I'm more than happy to look after Gillian any time you need me. I love that child like she was my own daughter."

Desmond glanced at his daughter's room, fighting the urge to push open the door and check on her again. He'd looked in on her less than ten minutes before.

"I hate not being here when she wakes. The mornings and evenings are our special time together."

"It's only once a month."

"I know." He sighed. "And it's the only hour all the doctors can fit into their schedules. I'll make it up to her, though. I'll be home for lunch today."

"I'll have it ready for you when you arrive." Mrs. Waters paused, then asked, "Will it be just the two of you?"

"No, Rebecca will join us. I expect her to be tired this morning, but I think she'll manage to get up by noon." He smiled, remembering how enjoyably they'd tired each other out. Then he recalled how cranky she'd been the other morning when he'd woken her for the operation. "You'd better keep the coffee warm for her. She'll be needing it. And put off anything noisy, like laundry or vacuuming, until after she wakes up."

"Whatever you say. What about Gillian?" Her face showed no expression, and her surface thoughts only repeated the same question in an endless loop.

"What about her?" he asked.

"I just wondered if you wanted me to keep her quiet, too?"

Tags: Jennifer Dunne Vampires
Source: readsnovelonline.net