Page 59 of Shadow Hunter

He shook his head. He wasn’t even going to entertain that thought.

“Areyouall right?” he said.

She stared at him for a long moment, her lip quivering, before she repeated, “I almost killed you.”

Okay. Clearly, they needed to address that.

He shrugged. “Oh. That.”

“‘Oh that?’ That’s it?” Tiffany nearly shrieked. “That’s all you have to say?” She wiped at her eyes frantically.

“What else do you want me to say, Tiffany?” He caught her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “I forgive you. Is that what you needed to hear?”

She shook her head. “I’m just so sorry, Damon. I’m such a hypocrite. I feel like a fool. I should have known better, but the moment I get the chance, I did exactly what you—”

“Tiffany, don’t,” he said, cutting her off. Urging her to meet his gaze again, his fingers tightened on her chin once more. “You can’t do that to yourself. That kind of thinking, it…it…” He shook his head, sighing a little. “That way lies the path to madness. Trust me.”

Her eyes searched his, her lip still quivering until finally, she nodded. “After you killed Caius, you’d lost so much blood, and I…I managed to get you out of the restaurant, but then Carl was there.”

He lifted a brow. “Carl?”

“He is—was—a vampire. Caius’s chauffeur.”

“What the hell kind of a vampire name is Carl?” Damon scoffed, trying to give them both a bit of levity.

Tiffany smiled a little.

He tugged the edges of the hospital gown, making certain he didn’t expose the family jewels for all the world to see as he nudged her closer a little.

She chuckled. “Who cares how stupid a vampire name Carl is? You almost died!”

Given the pounding in his head, Damon didn’t feel in the mood to bicker. “But I’m not dead, Shortcake. We’ve already been through this.”

Swearing under her breath, Tiffany stood and paced to the other side of the room. Immediately, he wished she hadn’t. The warmth she’d provided slipped away fast, replaced by the frigid hospital air. Why did she have to be so stubborn?

He wanted her here, in bed, with him.

Now and always.

He grumbled, “If you want to make up for almost killing me, get back over here where you belong.”

Tiffany stopped her pacing, taking a good long look at him, tears welling in her eyes once more. But slowly, she crossed the room and sat back down on the bed. Before she could protest, he lifted her legs onto the mattress and tucked her against his side again. She nestled there beside him as if they did this every night. Though he couldn’t know for certain if they’d ever have that, at that moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted this. Wanted her.

“You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you?” he whispered.

“I think that’s the morphine talking.” She smiled back. The heat of her breath brushed over his chest like a soft caress.

Morphine, hmm?So that was what was giving him that relaxed feeling.

“No, it’s that dress. You’re lucky every man in this place hasn’t come on to you.” He raked his gaze over her, his appreciation lingering. “I’m way less of a gentleman than that.”

She giggled, pushing against his side, until…

Shit. He pulled the covers up to his waist. Whoever thought flimsy hospital gowns were a good idea needed a strong kick in the ass.

Though from the spark of interest in Tiffany’s eyes, she’d noticed. “I think it’s safe to say someone’s feeling better.”

He grinned, his voice dropping low. “I could make you feel better too, if you let me.”

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