The Black Dagger Brotherhood (74 page)

“My temperature, too.”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to open my mouth now?”

Ehlena's skin flushed, and she told herself it was not because that drawl of his made the question sexual. “Er—No.”

“Pity.”

Rehvenge's shoulders rolled as he removed his suit jacket, and, with a lazy flick of the hand, he tossed the thing onto the sable coat that was carefully draped over a chair. He always had a coat like that with him no matter the season. Usually he wore them, but not always.

They were worth more than the house Ehlena rented. Apiece.

His long fingers went to the diamond cufflink on his right wrist.

“Could you please do that on the other side?” She nodded toward the wall she would have to squeeze against. “More space for me on your left.”

He hesitated, then went to work on his opposite sleeve. Rolling the black silk up past his elbow and onto his thick bicep, he kept his arm turned in.

Ehlena took the blood pressure equipment from a drawer and ripped it open as she approached him. Touching him was always an experience, and she rubbed her hand on her hip to get ready.

When she clasped his wrist, the current that licked up her arm landed in her heart, making her think of that coffee she'd just downed. It was as if the male carried an electrical charge in his body, and considering that those eyes of his alone were enough to distract the hell out of her, the voltage routine didn't help.

Damn it, where was her usual detachment. . . . Even with him, she was typically able to keep straight and do her job.

Kicking herself into professional gear, she moved his arm into position, brought the cuff up and—“Good . . . Lord.”

The veins running through the crook of his elbow were decimated from overuse, swollen, black and blue, as ragged as if he'd been using nails, not tiny needles, on himself.

Her eyes shot to his. “You must be in such pain.”

“Doesn't bother me.”

Tough guy. Like she was surprised? “Well, I can understand why you wanted to come in tonight.” She gently prodded at a red line that was traveling up his arm, heading in the direction of his heart. “There are signs of infection.”

“I'll be fine.”

All she could do was raise her eyebrows. Given how calm he was, clearly he was clueless as to the implications of sepsis.

Death would not look good on him, she thought for no particular reason.

Elhena shook her head. “Let's take your reading on the other arm. And I'm going to have to ask you to take your shirt off. The doctor's going to want to see how far up your arm that infection goes.”

His mouth lifted in a smile as he reached for his top button. “My pleasure.” Ehlena looked away fast.

“I'm not shy,” he said in that low voice of his. “You can watch if you like.”

“No, thank you.”

“Pity.” In a darker tone, he added, “I wouldn't mind you watching.”

As the sound of silk moving against flesh rose up from the exam table, Ehlena made busywork going through his chart, double-checking things that were absolutely correct.

From what she'd heard, he didn't do this stuff with the other nurses. He barely talked to her colleagues, and that was part of the reason they were nervous around him. Her, though? He talked too much and always about things that made her think . . . very unprofessional thoughts.

“I'm ready,” he said.

Ehlena turned around and kept her eyes pinned on the wall next to his head. His chest was magnificent, a warm golden brown, the muscles defined even though his body was relaxed. Each of his pecs had a five-pointed red star tattooed on it, and she knew he had more ink. Because there had been a couple of occasions when she'd looked.

Stared was more like it.

“Are you going to examine my arm?” he said softly.

“No, that's for the doctor.” She waited for him to say, “Pity,” again.

“I think I've used that word enough around you,” he murmured dryly.

Now her eyes shifted to his. It was the rare vampire who could read his own species' minds, but somehow it didn't surprise her that he was among that small group.

“Don't be rude,” she said.

“Sorry.” But he wasn't, given the way his lip curled up on one side.

God, his fangs were sharp. Nice and white, too.

Ehlena slipped the cuff around his bicep, plugged her stethoscope into her ears, and took his blood pressure, the little piff-piff-piff of the balloon followed by a long, slow hiss.

The patient was staring at her. He always stared at her.

Ehlena took a step back from him.

“Don't be frightened of me,” he whispered.

“I'm not.”

“Liar.”

 

This was the nurse he liked, the one Rehv hoped he would get each time he came in. He didn't know her name, so in his mind he called her
luhls
because she was lovely all the way around, serious and pretty, smart.

With a good deal of “fuck off” radiating out of her. And how hot was that.

In response to his “liar,” her toffee-colored eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth like she was going to snap his chain. But then she gathered herself, her professional veneer returning.

Pity, indeed.

“One sixty-eight over ninety-five. That's high.” She ripped the cuff's lip free with a quick jerk, no doubt wishing it were a strip of his flesh. “I think your body's trying to fight off the infection in your arm.”

Oh, his body was fighting something off all right—but it had fuck-all to do with whatever was cooking in his injection sites. With his
symphath
side overpowering the dopamine, the impotent state in which he usually existed had been knocked right out of the park.

His cock was stiff as a bat in his slacks.

Shit, maybe it would have been better to have another nurse in here. It was hard enough to be around her when he was “normal.”

Tonight he was anything but.