Dark Fire by Christine Feehan Read Free Book Online

possessive; Darius would never turn her over to another man.
    Darius flicked Julian a smoldering black glance. "No thank you," he answered tersely. "I will see to her needs. Please ask Desari to bring Tempest's knapsack to the bus."
    Julian was careful not to allow a glint of humor to show in his eyes. Darius had a soft spot after all. And she had red hair. Who would have guessed? He couldn't wait to tell his lifemate. With a slight salute, Julian sauntered away.
    Darius jerked open the door to the motor home, entered it, and gently placed Tempest on the couch. She rolled into a ball, facing away from him. He touched her hair, his hand lingering, trying to convey comfort. Then he turned the tape player on low, so Desari's haunting recorded voice could fill the silence with healing, shimmering beauty. Next he filled the tub with hot, scented water and lit special candles, their aromas also designed to promote healing.
    Darius didn't turn on the overhead lights. He could see perfectly without them, and Tempest wouldn't want them. "Come on, baby, into the bath," he said, lifting her tenderly but quickly, giving her no chance to protest. "The herbs in the water will sting at first, but you will feel better afterward." He seated her on the edge of the huge tub. "Do you need help with your clothes?" He kept his voice strictly neutral.
    Rusti shook her head quickly, then regretted it when her head pounded and her eye throbbed. "I can take care of myself."
    "I do not think we will get into that right now. You are not up to a sparring match." The slight teasing note in his voice surprised him even more than it did her. "Get into the tub, honey. I will be back with your clothes and a robe. You can eat when you get out." He bent to light two more aromatic candles and let their flames flicker and dance on the water and walls.
    Rusti undressed slowly, reluctantly. It hurt to move. She was numb inside, too worn out and shell-shocked even to worry about what Darius was or what he wanted from her. She knew he believed he had successfully erased her memory of what he had done to her the night before. Even now, with the horror of this night surrounding her, she still felt the burning heat of his mouth on her neck. She slipped into the steamy tub, gasping as the water lapped at her sore body.
    Why did strange things always happen to her? She was careful, wasn't she? She slid beneath the water, the stinging from her eye and mouth taking her breath away. When she came up, she lay against the sloped side of the tub and closed her eyes, resting. Her mind stayed mercifully blank. She couldn't think about Harry or what she might have done to bring on his vicious attack. He had wanted to hurt her, and he had.
    "Tempest, you are falling asleep." Darius didn't mention that she was moaning softly in distress.
    She sat up quickly, arms covering her breasts, water sloshing out of the tub. One eye, a vivid green, stared up at him in alarm, the other swollen and purple. She had quite an interesting array of colors sweeping across her face and body, proof of her vulnerability, yet she still managed to look defiant. "Get out," she demanded.
    Darius smiled, a flash of white teeth. It reminded her of a predator's silent challenge. He held up both hands, palms out. "I am only trying to help you not to drown. Dinner is ready. Here is a robe."
    "Whose is it?" she asked, suspicious.
    "Mine." It was the truth and yet not the truth. He had created it easily, instantly, from natural fibers, a trick learned over the centuries. "I will close my eyes if it makes you happy. Come out of there." He held up a huge towel for her.
    "You aren't closing your eyes," she accused him as she stepped into it. He was staring at a particularly nasty bruise on her rib cage. It embarrassed her that he could see the damage her attacker had inflicted; she didn't stop to think why it didn't embarrass her that he was seeing her naked.
    Obediently he closed his eyes, but the vision of her-