CHAPTER TWO
The first thing Nik felt was a throbbing in his head, then the fire flowing through his veins and he knew he was still alive. Small wonder, that. He thought he was going to die out in the swamp, and he still might as far as he knew. He willed his eyes to open, but they were so heavy and his body was coated with a layer of sweat.
Opening his mouth, he tried to cry out, to call to anyone who could hear him and help him, but his throat was too dry, his voice refusing to work. Swallowing hard, trying to work up the energy, he realized his mouth felt like cotton and there was no point in trying. No one would hear the muffled cry which lodged in his chest, refusing to be heard.
“Hush, now. Don’t move.” The voice hovered somewhere near his face and was one he didn’t recognize. Female. With a harsh edge. Not exactly friendly. He wanted to grin against the thought. When was the last time he’d met any human who was friendly? It had been a long damned time since Nik Maddux had been able to call anyone
friend
.
He tried to speak again, but felt a hand on his shoulder and it stilled him, caused him to settle a little. The touch was light yet firm, commanding him to remain still.
“I’m going to help you sit, but I don’t want you moving too fast. And don’t try to move your arms. You can’t.”
He tried anyway and realized she was right. Both his arms were stiff and heavy and refused to move, his wrists numb. A shiver ran through him when she leaned over him, her scent filling his nostrils. She smelled of the woods, of water and earth and pine and all things he considered holy. Her hair brushed against his bare chest, sending another sensation through him, one he was sure he incorrectly identified as desire. He hadn’t even seen the creature yet, and was already feeling lustful thoughts about her? He must be either dead or feeling much better. Based on the pounding in his head, he bet on the former.
When she had the pillows arranged so that his head was raised and pushed forward a little, she held something to his lips.
“Drink.” The word was a soft command, but a command all the same. Whoever she was, she was used to getting what she wanted, used to being in charge. He obliged and let the liquid flow into his mouth, slide down his throat. He’d never tasted anything so good before. Sweet and warm with a hint of cool at the same time. Nice and soothing. He swallowed too fast, too hard and a cough built in his chest.
“Slowly,” she chastised, as if she were correcting a child. “It’s chamomile and mint tea with some other herbs. It will help your throat. You’ve screamed it raw.”
That didn’t sound like him at all. And if he’d been screaming, surely he would have been aware of it. He was obviously in the pits of hell and she was an angel of mercy here to repair him until the devil could have his way with him again. He wanted to tell her thank you but that she shouldn’t bother, but his throat was exactly as she said and when his voice came out, the words were unintelligible.
“I know. Just hush. I’ll get you out of here soon enough, I promise.”
She tipped the cup back to his lips, this time not allowing him more than a couple of sips before moving it. Then she tipped it back again, repeating the motion until his throat felt completely coated with honey.
Better. He swallowed hard and this time it didn’t hurt as much.
“That’s the whiskey. Not exactly an herb, but a home remedy all the same.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice, something that contradicted her earlier tone.
His tongue darted out to coat his lips, which were painfully cracked and raw.
“Yeah. I’ll put some more salve on them for you.”
He didn’t protest as a light touch fluttered across his lips, applying a generous amount of balm to them. Resisting the urge to pucker them against her fingertips, instead, he let her touch sink into him and inhaled her scent again.
Heaven
. There was no way this was hell unless she had in fact been pulled from heaven to tend to the wicked. His hell would not be home to a woman like her, someone with a rough voice and a gentle touch, a scent that could wrap itself around a man and seduce him before he even set eyes on her.
“Better?”
He nodded. Almost. If she would just continue touching him, moving her hands lower, run them along his neck, his chest, lower. God, he wanted her. The thought hit him hard and he felt his cock stir beneath the covers, a pain shooting through him. If she noticed, she gave no indication. Instead, she just sat there, so close…if he could move his arms, he could reach out and touch her.
“Your eyes were damaged, too, and I removed two bullets from your side. I’m not sure what all has happened to you, but I can’t take you to a hospital. Besides, something tells me you would refuse to go anyway. I’ve never seen a creature like you before and I doubt you’re ready to be cut up into little pieces.”
Fuck. Her words sank into his head and he realized what she meant.
Creature.
Had she seen the beast? If she had…if she had, what? She would kill him? She hadn’t. In fact, if all these ministrations were any indication, she was trying to help him. And she hadn’t brought him to a hospital or alerted authorities. He could trust her. Everything about the situation told him he could trust her, and he did not trust easily.
“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you. We all have our secrets.”
He hadn’t realized his hands were balled into fists until she told him to relax. Opening them, he flexed his hands back and forth. That was when he realized he had completely misjudged her. Pulling his wrists forward, he attempted to move his hands. Following the same motion, he tried moving his feet and found he couldn’t move.
Trust.
The word echoed in his head as he realized she may be helping him, but she was also holding him prisoner. The reason he couldn’t see had nothing to do with an eye injury. He was blindfolded. And he couldn’t move because she had secured him, tying him up and keeping him at her mercy.
CHAPTER THREE
Juliette saw the moment he realized she’d tied him up. The expression on his face completely changed and he attempted to break free of his bonds. If he had any idea how much it pained her to do this to him, he would understand. There was no way she could know what he would do to her if he turned into an animal and she had no means of keeping him locked away. The thought itself sickened her even if it may have been necessary. So she’d done the only thing she could think to do in order to keep them both safe. She had secured him to her bed, using the big oak posts and sturdy leather ties. Then she topped off the bonds with a binding spell, making him unable to break free, even if he transformed into a beast. It was the best she could do on short notice. It was the only thing she could do if she planned to allow him into her home in order to heal him.
Of course, he didn’t see it like that and the way he was twisting against the ties told her he had no desire to be anyone’s prisoner. She would only keep him this way until she was sure it was safe. Bile rose in her throat once she saw the panicked look cross his face. His thrashing had caused the sheets to slip low on his chest, revealing thick black stripes which were either tattooed onto his skin or part of his ability to transform. She had seen so many unexplainable things in her lifetime that a part man/part tiger was not inconceivable, but she still found herself fascinated by the way the stripes wound their way around his body, disappearing at his neck and again at his ankles and wrists.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Let me explain.” She swallowed hard and moved away from the bed, wondering how much she should tell this stranger. He didn’t need to know they were here alone. He didn’t need to know where they were or exactly what she was doing to heal him and to keep him secured.
Placing her hand on his chest, she closed her eyes, hoping to calm him with her thoughts. As soon as she touched his skin, he settled down, but the energy he was expending went straight from him into her, sliding up her arm, making its way into her chest and sinking lower. Every time she touched him, she was hit hard with the one thing she never thought she would feel.
Desire.
She wanted this beast. Wanted him inside her, wrapped around her, clawing his way through her past. And that didn’t make sense at all.
“There. See? Better. Now let me explain.” She kept her tone even, though she knew her husky voice lacked the soothing tone of most women. “When you came here, you were not fully human. I didn’t know if you would harm me or not, so I had to keep you this way. You’ve been shifting in and out of animal form the entire time you’ve been here. I just had to be sure.”
“How long?” His voice was strained, the words barely coming out, but the tone was deep, dark and delicious, sending a shiver through her.
“A week. Give or take. I lost track the first few days because you were so unstable. The gunshot in your side was threatening to go septic and you’d lost a lot of blood. Your eyes were damaged, but they’re healing. I have them bandaged to keep the light off them, to keep you from rubbing them against the covers. I am not holding you hostage or keeping you prisoner. I am trying to save your life.”
“Thank you.” His tone was flat, but she was sure he was sincere nonetheless.
“You’re welcome. I can’t…I don’t know if I can untie you yet. You’re not...part of you is still an animal. There are stripes all over your body.”
“Those stay.” His voice was working a little better, but was still strained and she hated to be forcing him to talk.
“Try to stay quiet. We can talk when you’re healed.” She sat back and examined him again. The stripes stayed.
Interesting.
Ok, she had to admit it was more than just interesting. It was fascinating. Again, the desire to run her fingers along them, to trace each one from its origin to its end pulsed through her fingers.
Pulling away from him, forcing herself to do something else with her hands, she poured another cup of tea and brought it to his side. She was still too close, leaning into him, watching as he rose up to meet her, his lips coming into contact with the cup, wrapping around the rim, then giving a satisfied smile.
“I can remove the bandages, and if you want I can untie you. But I have to let you know that if you begin to act irrationally, or if I feel threatened, I will either tie you up or shoot you.” Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she wondered exactly how she could tie him up again. He had been unconscious last time and it had taken her well over an hour just to pull his body from the swamps to her cabin. And as far as shooting him went, he would have to do more than just intimidate her to deserve a bullet.
“Sounds fair.”
“I’ll use scissors. I need you to be still. And you should know that I had to insert a catheter. It’s probably causing you some discomfort. If you’ll relax, I’ll take it out as well.”
He nodded, his jaw hardening. “Do what you have to do.”
Putting the cath in was easy because he’d been unconscious, and she hadn’t yet heard that deep, sexy voice emanating from his throat. Now, he was a conscious, virile man and she needed to place her hands on his penis.
Just another patient. He’s just another patient.
She reached for her medical supplies and pulled gloves over her hands.
“I’ll do the cath first. I need you to relax.” Placing a hand on his chest, she stilled her breathing, then removed the covers. The stripes definitely did not cover that part of his body, which was long, thick and semi-aroused. Just a side effect of her touching him and of the need to relieve himself. When she wrapped her hand around the head of his penis, he let out a low moan.
“Sorry.” She tried to keep her tone clinical. “I want you to take a deep breath. I’ll tell you when to let it out. Okay?”
He nodded.
She slowly pulled the tube from the head of his penis. “Okay. Let it out slowly.” As he breathed, his body relaxed and the tube came out. “See? Not so bad.”
She wrapped the tube in a paper towel, then placed it in the trash can next to the bed.
“Thanks.” The word was course on his lips, as if he knew he should thank her but wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
“No problem. That was the difficult part.”
She grabbed the surgical scissors from her medical bag and sat next to him on the bed, the mattress only sinking slightly with her weight. Even though the sheet was between the two of them, she could feel the heat coming off his body and seeping into her skin. Leaning forward, her face just a breath away from his, she began to work on the bandages around his head. Her hair brushed against his face and she swore she heard him suck in his breath.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I should have pulled my hair back before I started.”
“No. Leave it.” Both the words and the way he said them made her hands unsteady, wondering if he could feel the tension in her body.
Part of her wanted to climb on top of him and ride him until neither of them could move. Instead, she busied herself with the bandages, careful not to cut his skin or his shaggy dark hair. Removing the first layer of bandages, she placed them in the trash with the rest of the supplies. Her fingers grazed against his cheek as she worked, the stubble on his jaw chafing against her.
“You need a shave,” she managed, wondering how his square jaw would look if it were free of the hair covering it.
“Perhaps you can help me with it later.” It sounded like an erotically wicked invitation the way he said it, but she was sure it was just her hormones on overdrive.
When the last layer of bandages was removed, she looked at the gauze sheets she had placed over each eyelid.
“I’m going to take these off, but I want you to understand that they have been on for several days. It may take a while for your vision to return. It’s like walking in from the sun. So don’t panic if it takes a while.”
He nodded, his throat moving up and down with the thick swallow of breath. “Thanks for the warning.”
Leaning forward with the scissors, she cut through the leather straps at his left wrist, then at his right and watched as he flexed his wrists, rotating them in little circles.
“Sorry if you’re stiff.”
He let out a low groan. “I’m stiff all right.”
Her eyes shot to the sheet which had slid down to his waist, and she caught more than an eyeful of exactly what he meant by that. When his eyes fluttered open, she hoped to the gods it would take more than a few seconds for his vision to return. Otherwise, he would see that her entire face and chest had turned crimson from staring at the outline of his cock, not to mention from the memory of having it in her hand.
Whispering a silent prayer, she stood and waited to see who would rise from the bed—man or monster.