She sat up, further indication of her progress, then slid off the bed, heading into the bathroom. A shower sounded like exactly what she needed.

She felt the warning tug at her neck, letting her know that she’d reached the proximity limits of the blood-chain.

As she stepped into the steaming shower and lathered up, she knew she had to do better with Lucian, to suppress what was proving to be a profound attraction and desire for the man. She washed her hair and applied a crème rinse, all the while searching for some means by which she could resist him. Unfortunately, nothing very specific came to her.

Toweling off, she was almost dry when she turned to find Lucian standing in the doorway, the sheet wrapped around his waist. He leaned an arm against the upper jamb, which revealed the powerful angled line of his chest and waist. Just looking at him, however, caused her resolve to falter.

She felt a flush cover her face and neck that had nothing to do with embarrassment. His navel was exposed along with his well-defined abs. What he could make her feel just by standing in a doorway. She honestly didn’t know what she could do to stem this tide.

She cleared her throat. “Everything okay?”

He held her gaze, nodding. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

Her brows rose. “For what?”

“For blood. For sex. For giving me what I needed despite your reservations. I know this isn’t easy for you. And it’s not easy for me, either, knowing that you’re having to do things that you otherwise wouldn’t.”

Her gaze drifted to the tiles of the floor as she thought about what he said. When she looked back at him, she took a deep breath. “I need to keep this simple between us and sex is never simple, at least not for me. I tend to get attached, and I don’t want that. When all this is through, I’ll need to go home to New Mexico.”

“I know.” His frown formed a ridge between his brows. “Then we’ll keep it simple.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “You want a shower?”

“That would be great.”

Wrapping herself up in her towel, she gathered up her toiletries. But when she tried to move past him, he caught her arm.

“Claire.” The resonance of his voice alone forced her to look up and meet his gray eyes. Right now they weren’t steely at all, as they could be at times. Instead they were warm and almost questioning—concerned.

Now more than at any other moment, even through the difficulties of altered flight or having Lucian almost drain her dry, Claire wished the whole thing undone. She felt horribly vulnerable, a state she despised. She didn’t want to desire a vampire this much.

Finally she eased past him anyway. “Enjoy your shower.”

Lucian moved into the bathroom, acutely aware of what Claire was feeling. This was perhaps the hardest part of the chain-bond, that he always knew what was going on with her. He’d felt her distress as she moved by him, and he thought he understood. She feared getting close, getting attached—and maybe for the first time in his life he felt the same way.

He turned the water on and stepped inside the enclosure. The warm water flowing over his short hair and down his shoulders, chest, and back was a soothing balm. Most of the cramping was gone, at least for now, though he knew he’d need Claire’s blood again within the next few hours.

He just wished another woman would do for the blood service part of their arrangement, as well as the sex. But the blood-chains seemed to invoke some kind of instinctive possessive response that he couldn’t override.

He didn’t want anyone else but Claire.

So what the hell were they supposed to do?

Neither of them wanted this level of connection. She wanted to go back to New Mexico and her family and he needed to be free to continue working on behalf of his society.

He’d always kept his liaisons with women on a strictly superficial level. At the very least, a man ought to know his limitations, especially where women were concerned. He had no interest in hurting Claire or any female, but if he got much closer, yeah, he’d hurt her, emotionally if not physically.

By the time he left the shower, he’d shored up his resolve to do all that he could not to make a mess of things. He wrapped a towel around his waist, feeling more confident. But when he left the bathroom, the mere sight of Claire overturned his resolve. Even with her hair damp, she looked so beautiful that his lungs seized.

She wore snug black jeans and a double set of tank tops, one cut low and hanging off her left shoulder. She looked damn sexy as she moved in the direction of the dresser. Even in profile she was beautiful. Despite looking away, desire rushed through him so fast that he coughed and sputtered.

“You okay?”

“Sure. Fine.”

She settled her brush on the dresser and turned to meet his gaze. “I called Rumy and ordered breakfast for us. I probably should have asked for your preferences.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sure whatever you chose will be fine.”

“Good.” She smiled. “And as for me, I think I’d eat anything right now. I’m so hungry, probably because I’ve been feeding you.”

He wished she hadn’t said that. He looked anywhere but at her because the thought of sinking his fangs in her neck or her wrist, or a dozen other places he could think of, sharpened his needs all over again.

In an effort to distance himself, he searched for his battle leathers and slipped them on. He added a long-sleeved black T-shirt and steel-toed boots. He was now ready for whatever came at them next.

CHAPTER 5

When breakfast arrived, Claire sat opposite a very quiet vampire. She worked her way through a wonderful spinach-and-mushroom omelet while Lucian ate waffles that he speared into bites stacked three high.

And he’d stopped talking to her.

He didn’t look at her, either.

Just keeping things simple.

She sipped her coffee and sighed, but the silence didn’t seem like a solution. “I like the clothes Rumy provided for me. He really takes care of the details.”

“Yes, he does.” His gaze shot to the shirt hanging low off her shoulder. He kept chewing, then speared another section of three-high waffles, sliced it off from behind with a knife, and in they went.

Earlier, Lucian had called Rumy and arranged for them all to meet in Rumy’s office to plan their next move. “Did Rumy say anything else when you talked to him? Anything about Daniel’s tip line, for instance?”

Lucian shook his head but remained focused on his meal. He looked so damn serious.

He also looked sexy as hell, which she decided was not hard for him at all. She liked his short hair; parts were almost spiked but not quite. His face had a faint stubble, and the dark blue, long-sleeved T-shirt he wore really set off his smoky eyes.

This close, and with him looking away from her, she was free to just take him in. There were permanent tension lines around his eyes. She was pretty sure Lucian held himself together by sheer force of will.

She wondered what would happen if he ever really let loose. What would that even look like? Who would he be?

She blinked and recalled what it had been like riding him. These were errant, dangerous thoughts, of course, because suddenly her mind was full of the sight of him beneath her, before he’d put his fangs on her neck, before he’d almost drained her dry.

You were exquisite.

His gaze flashed to hers. “What?”

Had she spoken? She hadn’t meant to, but the word had slipped from her mind, aimed at his. “Nothing.”

He scowled. “What’s with the rich scent you’re throwing at me? I thought you wanted to keep things simple.”

She blinked at him, then glanced down at her omelet. Using the side of her fork, she cut off another section. “I want you to know that though parts of what happened over the past twenty-four hours have horrified me, other parts were incredibly beautiful. Sex, for one thing.” She chuckled and felt her cheeks grow warm. “I mean before you almost killed me.”