Dream Huntress (A Dreamseeker novel) (Entangled Ignite) by Michelle Sharp Read Free Book Online Page B

“I’ve had kind of a strange night myself. And I’ve had bad dreams, too. A lot of them lately. But that was no bad dream. I thought you were having a seizure.”
    He continued to pace, probably freaked out by what he’d just witnessed.
    She understood how scary the dreams could be, but tonight she’d managed a new low. She’d allowed someone else to be affected. He had bright red spots on his cheek and scratches on his chin. Scratches she knew were her fault.
    “If you’re not going to let me call an ambulance,” he said, “I at least want to take you back to the hospital to be checked out. You need another brain scan. Maybe you’re injured more than they thought.”
    She couldn’t control the slight grin. He thought she had brain damage. Maybe she did. But if so, it had started about twenty years ago, not last night with Lewis’s boot. And she sure wasn’t getting another “brain scan.”
    “Can you come here and sit down for a minute? You’re making my headache worse, pacing like that.”
    He let out a long sigh, walked to the bed, and eased down next to her. “Are you warming up? You were shaking like you were freezing to death.” He ran his hands up and down her arms.
    Her breath hitched, and her gaze locked on his. He pulled his hands back, as if the impact of the connection startled him, too. She wasn’t sure if chemistry was the right word, but something foreign, and not altogether unpleasant, crackled in the air when they touched.
    Oddly compelled to test the theory, Jordan reached out and ran a finger over the scratches on his chin. “I’m sorry, I hurt you.”
    He continued to hold her in that dangerous gaze, and when she pulled her hand away, he swallowed. Hard.
    Definite chemistry.
    He offered a thin smile. “You almost gave me a heart attack; my blood pressure was probably high enough for me to stroke out. I thought you were dying. Probably took ten years off my life, and you’re sorry you scratched me?”
    He was attempting to lighten the mood. But his humor only made her throat swell and her eyes burn. She’d put him through hell, and he was still being sweet.
    “Well, then, I’m sorry for the stroke and heart attack, too,” she teased, managing to yank a knot in her unraveling emotions. “I thought you left, and I took something for the pain. The doctor at the hospital said it would help if my back started hurting again, but I should have known better. I have bad reactions to most drugs, even the mildest ones. They help with the aches but also give me weird nightmares. Usually, I don’t even take aspirin, but tonight I thought it might help. Guess it backfired.”
    “You think?” He lifted his hand to her face and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay then, no more drugs for you. Trust me when I say you won’t even get a baby aspirin out of me.”
    He let his knuckles fall against her cheek, and the zing of chemistry returned. Then the pad of his thumb smoothed across her bottom lip and stalled there. Along with his gaze.
    There was no escaping the fact that he was contemplating kissing her. And she was seriously contemplating letting him. The invitation must have shown in her eyes, because he leaned close enough that his warm breath teased her lips. Then his mouth brushed hers in a whisper of a kiss.
    Her chest tightened. Her stomach tumbled. She laid a hand on his chest and felt the gallop of his heart beneath her fingertips. His kiss was such a soft, soft touch, but it unleashed a flood of unbearably intense sensations.
    One spiraling emotion ebbed into another. Her hand slid into his hair, tangled in the thick, dark waves, and pulled him closer.
    God, she wanted to taste him.
    Not just his lips, but the corded strength of his neck, the solid lines of his chest. He smelled good enough to eat. Did he taste that way, too? She eased her tongue into the heat of his mouth.
    A hoarse growl erupted from him.
    He tasted her, savored her as though she was a last meal.