Mary turned over sleepily and snuggled into the pillow under her head with a little sigh, then sniffed with interest as the scent of lavender teased her nose. Wondering where it was coming from, she opened her eyes and stared at the alarm clock radio sitting on the bedside table in front of her. It wasn’t her clock radio; that was her first thought, and then she rolled over and glanced around the room she was in, which also wasn’t hers.
Sitting up abruptly, Mary peered around at the pale blue walls, the sitting chairs by the window, the mirrored sliding closet doors, and the two normal doors in the room. This definitely was not her home or the RV. Not a hotel either, though, she thought and then glanced curiously at the contraption next to the bed. An IV stand, she noted, and followed the tubing coming out of it down to the back of her hand. She raised her hand and eyed it curiously, wondering why she’d needed it, then glanced down at herself, eyebrows rising when she saw that she was wearing a pretty white cotton nightgown with spaghetti-string shoulder straps . . . also not hers.
A hospital? She considered the possibility, but hospitals didn’t look this nice; at least none of them that she’d been in had. Besides, they usually smelled of disinfectant, not lavender.
Sighing, Mary pushed the blankets aside and slid her feet off the bed, then paused and glanced around the room again, before deciding to try the door to the right of the bed first. She had to go to the bathroom, and knew that one of the two doors in the room would either lead to a bathroom or a hallway that would lead to a bathroom. Either one would get her closer than just sitting there, so Mary pushed herself to her feet and then paused and grabbed the IV stand to balance herself when the room started a slow spin. It only lasted a minute before the room settled and her equilibrium was restored, but it was kind of startling. Keeping her hold on the IV stand, Mary pulled it along with her just in case the room decided to do another dance move. Much to her relief, however, she made it to the door without anything else happening.
Opening the door, Mary was relieved to see that it was indeed a bathroom. She’d figured a bedroom wouldn’t have two exits, but one never knew. Especially since she had no idea where she was. She wheeled the stand into the room with her and positioned it between the toilet and the counter holding the sink and then hiked up her nightgown and sat on the toilet.
It was while she was sitting there that the first shaft of agony struck. Mary gasped in pained surprise, and immediately grabbed her head, trying to keep it from blowing apart. However, the pain eased and waned just as quickly as it had struck, leaving her breathing cautiously in and out as she waited warily to see if it would strike again. After a little time had passed without a recurrence, she let out her breath slowly and reached for the toilet paper.
It wasn’t until she stood and moved to wash her hands that Mary even glanced to the mirror, and then she froze, the room spinning around her as she stared at her forehead. There was a large, ugly scar cutting across the top of her head, from her forehead back and the top of her head around it was slightly misshapen, like it had been caved in but was pushing its way back out.
Mary grabbed for the counter to steady herself, then screamed and grabbed for her head as another shaft of pain crashed through her skull, sending her to her knees. She thought she heard someone shout her name, but she was already losing consciousness.
The next time Mary woke up, the IV was gone and there was a warm body in front of her as well as one at her back. Opening her eyes, she peered at the furry body she had her arm around.
Bailey.
She was back from the vet, Mary thought, and smiled, her arm tightening slightly around the dog.
Bailey immediately turned her head and tipped it back slightly to look at her and Mary gave her another squeeze, whispering, “Hello, sweetie. It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
The German shepherd laid her head back down with the little huff of sound that she usually made when she was content, and Mary lifted her head slightly to glance to the rather large arm that was wrapped around her from behind.
Dante, she thought. At least she hoped it was. Otherwise, she and Bailey were in the wrong place.
“Mary?”
She stilled at that whisper, then turned her own head and tilted it back to look at the handsome man presently wrapped around her.
Dante smiled and bent to press a kiss to her nose, then asked solemnly, “How is your head?”
Mary stiffened, her smile freezing, and then she sat abruptly upright, knocking his arm away and nearly sending Bailey tumbling to the floor as she grabbed her head and began to feel it. It felt fine. Normal, she thought with relief, but—
Climbing out of the blankets and over Bailey, she stumbled to the door next to the bed and into the bathroom to see if it truly was all right. Mary’s breath left her on a sigh of relief when she saw that her head was back to normal. Even the scar was gone, she noted, parting her hair to get a look at her scalp. There wasn’t even a thin line to show where the injury had been.
“It is all healed,” Dante said gently. “At least on the outside.”
Mary turned to glance at him and started to nod, but paused when she saw that he was naked. Again.
“Honestly, do you have an allergy to clothes or something?” she asked with exasperation. “Every time I turn around you’re naked.”
Dante’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to respond, then gasped in surprise when she suddenly leapt at him . . . literally. She jumped him like a monkey, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips as she covered his mouth with hers.
Dante chuckled into her mouth and caught her under the bottom to keep her from slipping before he turned and set her on the bathroom counter. Breaking their kiss then, he nuzzled her ear and murmured, “I think you like me naked.”
“I do,” Mary admitted huskily, pressing kisses to his shoulder as he nibbled at her ear. “You should always be naked.”
“Always?” he asked, tugging her nightgown off one shoulder.
“Always,” she assured him, pulling back to run her hands over his chest as he tried to bare hers. “Thank you for getting Bailey back.”
“She is a good dog, and you love her. I would not leave her behind,” he assured her solemnly, and then giving up on getting her nightgown down, he simply bent and closed his mouth over one nipple through the cloth.
Mary moaned as the cloth grew wet and his tongue moved it across her immediately erect nipple.
“How long was I out this time?” she asked on a gasp, arching her back.
Dante reached down to begin pushing her nightgown up her legs before answering. “Two days.”
“Two?” Mary muttered, lifting one butt cheek off the counter and then the other so that he could get the nightgown out from under her.
“You took a very serious head wound,” he said solemnly, and dropped her nightgown to cup her face between his hands. “You must never allow yourself to be so harmed again. I thought my heart would stop when I found you after the van crashed.”
Dante leaned down to kiss her gently and Mary sighed against his lips. “I’m sorry. It was my fault. I accidentally broke Bert’s neck when Ernie went for the dart gun.”
“Bert?” he asked with confusion. “One of the men was Ernie, but the other was Bob, not Bert.”
Mary smiled crookedly. “I didn’t know his name so I gave him a nickname.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “Bert and Ernie are dead.”
“Both of them?” she asked with surprise, and then grimaced. She’d seen her own head wound. Surely it would have killed a mortal? Why would she think Ernie would have made out any better?
“Yes, both are dead,” he said quietly, then raised his eyebrows and said, “You broke Ernie’s neck?”
“No, Bert’s,” Mary corrected. “Couldn’t you tell when you saw the bodies?”
“There was not much to see,” he said solemnly. “The van exploded on impact. If you had not flown out the windshield and into the post, you too would now be dead. Immortals are highly flammable.”
Her eyebrows lifted at this news, and then she bit her lip and asked, “And Tomasso?”
His shoulders drooped and he shook his head silently. “Lucian has people looking in Venezuela, but nothing yet.”
Mary sighed and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, I am the one who is sorry. I promised to keep you safe and failed you. Twice. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he assured her quietly.
“Yes, I do,” Mary said unhappily. “I killed Bert, which led to Ernie dying too. And you needed one of them alive to find out where Tomasso is.” Raising her head, she added quickly, “I was only trying to make them stop. It was all a trap. They were leading you to a warehouse about a block away from the crash, or maybe a half a block by that time. There were two men waiting there.” Mary paused and then muttered with frustration, “They said their names, but I can’t remember. I think one was Jack or something.”
“You took a lot of trauma to the head,” Dante said soothingly. “The nanos are probably still making repairs. Your memory may be shaky for a while until the repairs are finished.”
“Right.” She took a deep breath and then continued, “Anyway, they set it up for you to follow. Once at the warehouse, there were men waiting to shoot you and Russell and Francis with darts, and then we were all going to be shipped to wherever with Tomasso.”
“Tomasso was there at this warehouse?” he asked sharply.
“I’m not sure, but I think so,” she said unhappily. “I was going to tell you what I’d heard once I forced them to stop the van. I thought maybe we could drive in, in the van. They wouldn’t have been expecting that. But then dumb Ernie ignored my warning and went for the dart gun. I tried to grab him and broke Bert’s neck and we crashed.”
Sighing, she dropped her head to his shoulder again. “I’m sorry, Dante. I messed up. It’s all my fault.”
“No,” he said firmly, wrapping his arms around her. “It is not. If you had not done what you did, we might all now be in the same position Tomasso is in. Instead, we are alive and safe and able to help look for him.”
Mary thought it was sweet of him to try to soothe her conscience, but she still felt guilty. Relaxing against him, she closed her eyes, then glanced up with surprise when Dante pulled back. But he merely scooped her up in his arms and carried her back out to the bedroom.
Bailey was still lying on the bed and Mary frowned with concern as she noticed the cast on her leg.
“She is fine,” Dante said softly. “She has had her pain killers and the cast barely slows her down. She is not even limping anymore.”
“Oh,” Mary murmured as he carried her around the bed and set her down next to Bailey.
Dante quickly covered her with the sheets and blankets she’d tossed aside just moments ago, and then straightened and turned to open the cabinet door of the table on his side of the bed. Curious, Mary watched as he bent to retrieve something, her eyes widening when he turned to set two bags of blood on the bed.
Catching her surprise, he smiled and said, “It is a hidden fridge. Mortimer,” he paused to explained, “He’s the head of the rogue hunters. He had them custom-made. Now everyone wants them for their homes,” he added with amusement as he retrieved two more bags to set next to the others. He closed the door as he straightened, then scooped up the four bags and set them down right next to her before leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. “I have to go tell Lucian what you told me. He will want to send someone to search the warehouses in the area and see if there is any information that might be of use.” He straightened, and then asked, “Is there anything you want me to bring you when I return? Something to eat or drink?”
Mary hesitated, but then aware that he wanted to leave, just shook her head. “Maybe later.”
Nodding, he bent to kiss her again, then leaned past her to give Bailey an affectionate pet before straightening and crossing the room.
“Feed,” Dante said firmly as he opened the second door in the room to reveal a hall beyond. Glancing back he added, “I want all four bags empty when I come back.” Then he slipped from the room and pulled the door closed behind him.
Mary picked up one of the bags, but then just stared at it. She had no idea how to make her fangs come out. Before this, they’d just popped out whenever she was hungry. She hadn’t had to—
The thought died as she felt a shifting in her mouth. Mary waited, and then ran her tongue cautiously along her teeth until it rubbed up against a fang. Well, that was handy. But then she was hungry, although she hadn’t realized it until she’d actually picked up the bag. Or, perhaps, it was better to say she hadn’t been able to identify what she was hungry for until then. Although, Mary thought, she wouldn’t mind food either, just then. However, she didn’t have any, so she simply opened her mouth and popped the bag toward it, relieved when it landed correctly and remained in place.
Keeping her hand in place on the bag to support it, Mary glanced to Bailey then. The dog appeared to be asleep. She suspected it might have something to do with the pain pills Dante had mentioned. On the other hand, Bailey slept a lot. Most dogs seemed to. They’d run around like crazy chasing balls, animals and anything else that caught their attention, and then would drop and sleep for a while before getting up to do it again.
It was a tough life, Mary thought with amusement and glanced to the bag to judge how much more blood there was in it. It was going down pretty quick, and didn’t bother her as much as it had at first. She didn’t exactly like the feel of cold fluid moving up her teeth, and she wasn’t pleased to have to actually consume blood, but at least she didn’t have to actually drink it cold from a cup or something. That would have been disgusting. This way she didn’t have to taste it or anything.
The moment the first bag emptied, Mary tore it off and slapped on another, eager to get the chore over with. It seemed to take forever, although she knew that was probably because she was waiting through it with nothing to distract her. Still, she was surprised when she finished the next two bags and Dante hadn’t yet returned.
Tearing the last bag from her mouth, she scooped up all four of the empty bags, crawled off the bed and took them into the bathroom to throw them in the small garbage can there. Mary then went right back to the bed.
Her getting up had apparently disturbed Bailey and the dog had raised her head to watch for her return. Mary smiled at the shepherd as she climbed back into bed, and then settled back onto her side and ran a hand down her side.
“We’re a pair, huh?” she asked softly, petting her. When Bailey just closed her eyes on a little huff of sound, Mary stopped petting her and instead curled her arm around her, careful not to get anywhere near her broken back leg. She then closed her eyes, surprisingly sleepy again. She never heard the door open when Dante returned.
“I hear Mary woke up.”
Dante turned from watching Bailey sniffing her way around the yard and smiled when he saw Russell approaching.
“Si,” he said, before turning back to continue watching Bailey. Mary had been asleep by the time he’d finished talking to Lucian and returned to the bedroom. He’d lain down with her for a while, but hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead, he’d simply lain there, his mind racing.
He’d worried about Tomasso, wondered where he was, and hoped that the men Lucian sent to look for the warehouse Mary had mentioned found it and got some information that might help them find Tomasso. When those worries had proven useless and raised his stress level and concern for his brother, Dante had then turned his thoughts to Mary and the future he planned to have with her. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing that when Bailey had got off the bed and pawed the door, letting him know she needed to go outside.
Leaving Mary sleeping, he’d immediately got up to bring the dog out. She was a fine animal: good-natured and well behaved. Mary had done a fine job with her.
“How is her head?” Russell asked, pausing beside him and turning to watch Bailey as well.
“It is back to its proper shape,” Dante said with a frown. Nothing in his life had terrified him as much as seeing Mary with the top of her head caved in. It was not a moment he would ever want to relive.
“Any pain?” Russell asked.
Dante’s mouth tightened. “The first time she woke up, yes, but not the second. However, she was not long awake.”
“I am sorry to say it, but she might yet have headaches then,” Russell murmured.
“Si.” Dante sighed the word unhappily. “And you are no sorrier to say it than I to think it. After the explosion and turning and now this accident, she has suffered enough.” He shook his head. “I should have accompanied her to the ladies’ room.”
Russell shrugged. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, my friend. None of this is your fault.”
Dante didn’t agree, but merely changed the subject. “Where is Francis?”
“At the gate,” Russell glanced back the way he’d come. “He asked me to come check on Mary for him.” He turned back and smiled at Dante. “He likes her. So do I.”
“I always knew you were both intelligent men,” Dante said solemnly and Russell laughed. Smiling faintly, himself, he asked, “So you are back on the gate. Does this mean Francis is done with wanting to become a hunter?”
“Oh, hell no,” Russell said dryly. “He was all ready to rush right down to Venezuela to hunt down the bastard behind those men who fried in the van. It took a lot of talking to convince him to wait until he has had some more training.”
“Has he not already had training?” Dante asked with surprise.
Russell grimaced and nodded reluctantly. “Yes, but—”
“But you have convinced him he needs more because you do not wish him anywhere near danger. You do not wish to lose him,” Dante suggested sympathetically.
Russell ran a weary hand through his short fair hair and nodded. “I waited a millennia for him, and while I did not recognize that he was my life mate immediately on encountering him, once I did . . .” He shrugged. “I could not bear to lose him now, Dante. I could not go back to the lonely existence I was living before him, especially now that I know what I would be missing.” He paused and shook his head. “I do not know how Lucian bore it all those millennia after losing his first life mate in the fall. I could not do it were I to lose Francis.”
Dante nodded, understanding completely. He already felt the same way about Mary.
They were both silent for a minute, and then Russell cleared his throat and said, “The reason Francis wanted me to check on Mary was because, as he reminded me, we never did get to that shopping trip, and he would still very much like to help her shop.”
Dante glanced at him with surprise. “He wanted you to ask that for him?”
“Francis has issues with rejection,” Russell said quietly. “His family turned their back on him when they realized he preferred men to women.” He smiled wryly and added, “In a way, he was more alone than I when we met. I, at least, had my family.”
Dante nodded. “I am sure Mary would enjoy his company when we shop. But . . .” He hesitated, not wanting to offend either man.
In the end, he didn’t have to figure out a way to word his request. Russell grinned and suggested, “But you want to ensure he dresses her like Barbie and not Stripper Barbie?”
Dante nodded with relief, and then grinned and said, “Not that I would mind one or two Stripper Barbie outfits for at home.”
“But the majority of the clothes should probably be more Next-Door-Neighbor Barbie,” Russell said with amusement. “I understand completely and shall pass that along.”
“Thank you,” Dante said with a smile.
“Give us a shout when she wakes up and wants to go. I shall talk to Mortimer about arranging someone to take over the gate.”
“There will probably be no need,” Dante said, glancing toward the house and the window of the bedroom Mary inhabited. “I suspect she will sleep through the night. We probably will not shop until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Just call then and we’ll come,” Russell said and slapped his shoulder before turning to head back around to the front of the house.
Dante watched him go, and then turned to see Bailey walking back toward him, her duty done. He squinted his eyes and watched her legs carefully as she walked. She was not yet used to the somewhat clunky cast, and it slowed her down a little, but as he had said to Mary, she wasn’t limping at all.
Thoughts of Mary made him pat his leg.
“Come on. Let us go check on our Mary,” he suggested and turned toward the house.
Bailey immediately turned toward the house and began to move more quickly. In the end, she reached the door before he did and waited patiently for him to open it so that she could rush inside and up the stairs, eager to see her mistress.
Mary was woken up by more than eighty pounds of dog leaping on top of her. It was accompanied by angry whispers in Italian that could only be Dante, she thought with amusement, as she reached out to pet her dog and try to calm her.
“Oh, Dio mio, do not pet her, Mary. Go back to sleep. She is being bad waking you, and you are rewarding her,” Dante said with exasperation.
Chuckling, Mary rolled onto her back to see him approaching the bed.
“I know. I guess I’m just a bad mother,” she said with amusement, absently stroking Bailey’s head as the dog laid it on her stomach.
“Your fangs are out,” Dante said rather than respond to her comment.
Pausing at the side of the bed, he opened the hidden refrigerator and grabbed a bag of blood and then climbed onto the bed on the other side of Bailey. He passed the bag of blood over to her and then curved around Bailey so he could lay his head on the pillow next to Mary’s.
Gripping the bag of blood, Mary sat up and ran her tongue cautiously around her teeth. Yep, there they were, long and sharp and apparently hungry again, she thought with resignation and slapped the bag to her hungry fangs. They did seem to constantly be popping out on her. Every time she woke up she seemed to have to consume the red liquid, and usually several bags of it.
“How is your head?” Dante asked as they waited for the bag to empty.
Mary raised her eyebrows at the question, wondering how he expected her to answer. But then he asked, “Does it hurt?” and she was able to shake her head in answer.
“Good,” he murmured, toying with the top of the blanket covering her. “And you are a wonderful mother, Mary. Bailey is lucky,” he added, finally responding to her comment of a moment ago. “And our children will be too. I have no doubt you will spoil them at times. But you will discipline them too, and they will always know they are loved.”
Mary stared at him silently. She had been smiling around the nearly empty bag at her mouth, but now that smile faded and tears glazed her eyes. Mary immediately turned her head away from him so he couldn’t see the tears. She was relieved when she could tear the bag away from her mouth a moment later.
When Dante immediately took it, she began to fiddle with the edge of the blanket covering her and muttered, “What’s this talk of our children? I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, mister. Heck, I’ve only known you for a couple of days.”
Dante caught her chin and turned her head toward him. He peered at her silently for a moment, taking in her glassy eyes, then said solemnly, “It was a week yesterday that you ran me over. True,” he added quickly, his fingers tightening to keep her in place when she started to turn her head away again, “You have slept through most of the week.”
For some reason, that brought a wry laugh from her, and he smiled, but continued.
“However, it does not matter. We are life mates, Mary, and I do not intend to lose you. We will love each other, and we will be together for however long we both shall live, and we will have many, many babies. It was meant to be,” he assured her.
Mary swallowed, trying to shift the lump suddenly lodged in her throat. She suspected that, despite the little time they’d been together, she was already half in love with the big idiot. How could she not be? He was sweet, and strong and caring. The fact that he was beautiful didn’t hurt either, but it was just gravy.
After years of counseling people, Mary had become adept at judging character, and Dante was a man of substance. She had loved her husband, Joe. Once they’d worked through their issues, theirs had been a caring and contented relationship of friendship and love. It had been hard won and appreciated all the more for it. But with Dante, Mary suspected she could have that special, once-in-a-lifetime love many of her patients had talked about yearning for, and she’d always thought was just fantasy. Mary didn’t think it was fantasy anymore, and she was quite sure she could have it with Dante, and that it would actually last as long as they lived, whether that was another twenty years, or two thousand. But, she could not have children. She did not mind for herself. Mary had long ago got over the fact that she couldn’t give birth. The moment she had held her adopted son in her arms, he had been hers as surely as if she had carried him for nine months, and when her adopted daughter had followed, it had been the same. She had her children. But she could not give Dante children.
“Dante,” she said softly. “I told you. The accident caused a miscarriage. I was six months pregnant. I lost the baby and . . . there were complications. I can’t have your children.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and Mary was holding on to her composure by a very fine, very short thread, so was a bit taken aback when he smiled.
“And as I told you, Mary,” he said gently. “The nanos return their host to their peak condition. You will be able to have children, and I cannot wait to watch your belly grow with my child.”
He covered her mouth with his then, but Mary was too stunned to respond at first, and quickly pushed him back slightly.
“Wait,” she said uncertainly. “When I lost the baby, they had to—”
“The nanos will repair whatever has been damaged, and replace whatever has been lost,” he interrupted solemnly, “covering pretty much everything up to and including a hysterectomy.”
He started to kiss her again and this time, Mary began to respond, but the moment he urged her lips apart, she broke the kiss and pulled back again. This time she was frowning as a myriad of thoughts assaulted her.
“Are you saying I could get pregnant right now?” she asked, actually alarmed at the prospect. It was wonderful to know she could give him children, but she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to do it right now, or nine months from now, she supposed. It didn’t seem like a good way to start a new relationship.
“Probably not,” Dante said, looking slightly quizzical that she seemed so alarmed at the prospect. “Do you not wish to have my child?”
“Well, sure. At least I think I do,” she added, trying to be levelheaded about this. They had just met, after all, and common sense and all her training told her she shouldn’t be jumping so wholeheartedly into this relationship. Sighing, she added, “But not right now. I mean, it would be nice to feel a little more settled in the relationship before we add a baby, don’t you think?”
“Oh. Yes,” he agreed, relaxing, and then grinned and urged Bailey away. Once the dog had shifted herself to the foot of the bed, he scooted closer, and drew her into his arms. “You are right. It is better to wait on having a baby. Especially since once we get Tomasso back I intend to keep you in bed for a good year or so. A baby would interfere with that. So we will wait a year or so.”
Mary relaxed and nodded with relief. That was definitely the smarter route, she thought, as he began to kiss her again. She kissed him back this time, her body coming alive at once, but when he broke their kiss to lean back and begin tugging at the blanket and sheets covering her, she asked, “So you have protection?”
Dante glanced to her with confusion, and his voice was distracted when he asked, “Protection?”
“A condom?” Mary explained as he turned his attention back to removing the coverings between them. She pointed out, “It’s not like I’m on birth control or anything.”
“Oh.” Dante murmured with a nod as he finally got the blankets and sheets out of the way.
Mary relaxed at his nod that he had protection, and smiled faintly as his gaze moved hungrily over her in the white cotton nightgown.
“We—” Dante began as he reached toward her breast, but whatever would have followed was pushed aside by a groan as his hand closed over the soft globe and he squeezed, sending shivers of pleasure through them both.
“We what?” Mary gasped, arching into the caress.
“Yes,” he muttered and covered her mouth with his again, his kiss almost violent with need.
Mary responded in kind, her body quickly melting beneath his touch and kiss. The man was fire to her tinder, sending her up in flames with just a touch. She had never experienced anything like it before. She’d thought her marital bed a satisfying one before she and Joe had had their problems, and after they’d sorted them. But he had never lifted her to these heights, even after loads of foreplay. Mary knew it had to be a chemical reaction, and most definitely a result of something to do with the nanos. It was the only explanation for this madness, she thought faintly, as Dante shifted to his knees, and lifted her to her own without breaking their kiss.
His hands were immediately everywhere. Sliding down her back to urge her forward until she knelt between his spread knees and they were chest to chest. His hands then slid down to cup her behind and squeeze eagerly, before gliding up and around to find her breasts.
Mary moaned, and arched and shifted into each touch and caress, then broke their kiss and cried out when his hands suddenly dropped again, this time to slip under her nightgown. One hand slid up to cup her between the legs, while the other slid around to cover both of her bare cheeks in his big hand so that he could urge her to move into his caress.
“God, Mary,” Dante muttered against her cheek, his fingers beginning to explore the damp heat that waited for him.
“I want your clothes off,” Mary moaned against his shoulder, and then gasped and began pulling at the cloth herself as he found her sweet spot. “Please.”
Cursing, Dante retrieved his hands and quickly tugged his T-shirt up and off over his head.
“Your pants,” Mary said breathlessly, when he started to reach for her again.
Dante was immediately off the bed, undoing and pushing his pants down.
“Where are the condoms?” she asked as he raised one foot and started to push the black denim off of it.
Turning, she opened the bed table drawer to see if there might be any there. There weren’t and she turned back to ask if they might be in his wallet, or one of the other drawers, but paused when she saw that he had frozen, standing exactly as she’d last seen him, on one foot, bent over to push the cloth off. Except for the confusion on his face, he looked like a stork.
“You do have a condom?” Mary asked with a frown.
Dante shook his head, his expression blank.
“But you said you did.” Mary said with accusation, and then her eyebrows drew together and she added, “At least, you nodded.”
“Did I?” he frowned now too, obviously trying to recall, then relaxed and smiled faintly. “I nodded that I understood. But I was going to explain that we do not need them, and then got distracted.”
Mary recalled him starting to say, “We,” and then pausing on a groan. She’d then asked, “We what?” But she couldn’t remember whether he’d said anything then or not. She’d been a bit distracted by what he was doing. Apparently they both had been.
Taking a deep breath to try to ease some of the excitement still rushing through her body, she said, “What do you mean we do not need one? Of course we do, Dante. You said I can get pregnant now and we agreed we were not ready for that.”
“Yes, but no,” he said at once and she blinked in confusion. Fortunately, he continued, “I mean, yes you no doubt can get pregnant now, but no, you probably will not.”
“Probably?” Mary asked grimly, arching one eyebrow.
Dante frowned slightly, and straightened, setting his foot back on the ground. His black jeans were still pooled around his ankles as he explain earnestly, “Mary, your body is still going through the turn, which has no doubt suffered something of a setback thanks to the accident. It is not likely it could support a child just now.”
“It’s not likely?” she asked archly.
Grimacing, he sat down on the side of the bed, and took her hand. “For an immortal woman to become pregnant, she has to take in a lot of blood. More than she usually would need to take in. Otherwise the nanos will see the fetus as a threat to their getting the blood they need and will abort it.”
“I’ve been taking in an awful lot of blood,” she pointed out.
“Yes, yes,” Dante agreed waving the issue away with one hand in the same moment. “But that will all be taken up to finish the turn and repair the damage from the accident,” he explained. “It is highly unlikely that you could get pregnant right now.”
“Highly unlikely,” she said slowly, and then raised one eyebrow and asked, “But not impossible?”
“Well . . .” Dante hesitated, and then his shoulders drooped. “You are going to insist on a condom.”
“Yes,” she said dryly.
“Right,” Dante muttered and stood to pull his pants up, then headed for the door, muttering, “I shall be back directly.”
Mary lay back on the bed with a sigh. If someone had told her that birth control would be an issue for her at sixty-two, she would have laughed in their face. “Who knew?” she muttered with disgust.