“I have nightmares if the lights are off,” Saber admitted, too sick to care.
His chin rubbed her silky curls. “Not when I’m here, Saber, I’ll keep them away.”
“Arrogant dragon king,” she murmured drowsily, reaching to lace her fingers with his. “Demons wouldn’t dare cross you, would they?”
“Who did you think I was, Saber? Who are you running from?”
There was such a long silence Jess was certain she wouldn’t answer. Finally she sighed. “You’re imagining things. I’m not running from anyone. You scared me is all.” There was the tiniest note of amusement in her sensual, silky voice.
Lying next to her should have produced the familiar relentless ache, but instead he felt a deep peace, something he had never experienced, stealing into him. She felt intensely hot despite the fact that the air in the bedroom was quite cool and he had only pulled a sheet over them.
“Maybe I should call you a doctor,” he murmured. “Eric could be here in a couple of hours.”
Saber sighed. “Stop fussing, Jesse,” she pleaded. Her fingers tightened around his. “I’ll be fine.”
He held her, feeling her body relax in the shelter of his, her breathing slow and rhythmic. Jess buried his chin in the mass of silky raven corkscrews, enjoying the feeling of just lying next to her, of being close to her.
Sometime later he must have drifted off, his dreams mildly erotic, not the usual flaming fantasies Saber aroused in him. The first sign of her distress awakened him, a soft little whimper, her body jerking convulsively.
She rolled suddenly, her hand coming up and toward him, a knife slicing fast toward his jugular with deadly accuracy. The movement was smooth and practiced. He caught her arm, slammed it down to the mattress, twisting almost to the point of breaking her wrist, his thumb finding a pressure point to force release. She never made a sound. Didn’t cry out in pain, even when he dug his fingers in hard enough to bruise.
Jess was enormously strong, genetically enhanced, and worked out daily in order to lift his own body weight all the time, yet it was difficult to subdue her. “Wake up, Saber,” he hissed, giving her a little shake.
The knife dropped from her hand and slid off the bed, but she rolled, ramming her elbow toward his jaw. He took the blow on his shoulder and caught her by the throat, slamming her down to the mattress.
Saber fought back, her eyes wild, haunted, his name on her lips. “Jesse!” She called for him again, the sound so filled with pain, so raw with terror, he felt actual tears stinging his eyes.
“For God’s sake, Saber, wake up. I’m here. I’m here.” He pinned her wrists, holding her down so she couldn’t continue the attack. “You’re having a nightmare. That’s all it is, just a bad dream.”
He knew the exact moment she became aware. Her body stilled, stiffened. Her gaze jumped to his face, examined every inch of his features, searching his expression for reassurance. He slowly released her and lay back beside her, turning so his body curled protectively around hers.
“Someone’s in the house, Jesse, I heard a noise.” She shuddered and leaned her burning forehead against the coolness of his.
“It was a nightmare, baby, nothing more.”
“No, someone’s in the house. Downstairs.” She clutched at his shoulders. “Lock my door. Is my door locked?”
He smoothed back her hair with gentle fingers. “No one can get in, you’re safe with me.”
“Turn on the light, we have to turn it on. No one will come in if the light’s on,” Saber insisted desperately.
“Shh.” He pulled her into his arms, burying her small, delicate face against his chest. She was trembling, burning hot against his skin. Tenderly he rocked her back and forth. “Nothing is wrong, Saber. I would never let anything happen to you.”
Her heart slammed hard against his chest, her pulse racing so frantically, Jess tightened his hold.
“It wasn’t a dream. I know I heard a noise, I know I did.” One hand curled into a fist, beating a tattoo against his shoulder. The other stroked the bulging line of his biceps in agitation.
There was something intensely intimate about the feel of her fingers tracing his muscles, despite the circumstances. His body stirred in response, painfully tight, urgently demanding. He ignored it, imposing the strict discipline that had kept him alive for years. He simply held her, rocking her gently, stroking her hair soothingly, not answering her wild imaginings.
It was some time before her body ceased trembling and she lay quietly in his arms.
Jess brushed a feather light kiss over her silky curls. “Feeling better?”
“I think I’m making a fool of myself,” she replied in a small voice.
“Never that, honey,” he murmured with gentle amusement. “You had a bad dream. Probably that rotten music you listen to.”
She nuzzled his chest, liking the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. “Country music is good music.”
“After the other night I decided I could get to like it. What in the world were you playing, anyway?”
“You don’t like rap?” Her laughter was muffled. “How did I know you wouldn’t like that particular group?”
He tugged a curl a little bit too hard in punishment, then rubbed the spot soothingly when she squealed. “Because I write number one hits all the time and not one of them has ever been rap.”
“Egotistical maniac,” she accused. “Not everyone has to listen to your music.”
“That’s true, baby, I don’t care if the entire world stops listening.” His lips brushed her hair again. “Except for you. Not only are you required to listen, but you’re required to like it.” He gave the order gruffly.
She laughed softly, relaxing against him. “So sing to me.”
There was a long silence. Jess cleared his throat. “Say, what?”
“Sing. You know.
“I don’t sing, I write. Music and lyrics. Write, Saber. And I sell them to other artists. I work for the navy. I don’t have a band.”
“Why is that, Jess? You’re obviously independently wealthy, you have a reputation as a songwriter, yet you’re still in the military. You’re in a wheelchair.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“You know what I mean. Why are you still in?”
“Who said I was?”
“I’ve lived here ten months. I know you’re doing some kind of job for them. Or am I not supposed to know?”
“You’re not supposed to know.”
She settled deeper into his chest, looking up at him with humor in her eyes. “Fine then. I’ll be ignorant. Sing to me, Jesse. If I can’t have the light on, and we can’t discuss how utterly stupid it is for you to stay in the military, then you can at least sing.”
“Is this what I have to look forward to the rest of my life?” he asked, bunching her hair in his hands.
“A fate worse than death,” Saber agreed drowsily.
At least she hadn’t demanded to know what he meant. Jess mentally shook his head. He couldn’t afford any more mistakes like that. Saber didn’t stay in one place very long and lately she had become restless, looking over her shoulder. Was she getting ready to leave? She had said she wasn’t running anymore. He couldn’t take the chance of making her more nervous, because he damned well wasn’t going to let her go, and he was finding out every single one of her secrets whether she liked it or not.
“Jesse.” Saber sounded petulant.
He eased back against the pillows, Saber’s head on his chest. “A song, huh?” Jess sighed heavily. “You’re so high maintenance.”
“Quit stalling,” she murmured.
Jess closed his eyes and allowed the feel of her satin skin, the clean feminine scent of her to seep into him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sang Saber her song. The one he wrote for her, the one that beat in his heart, his head, every time he looked at her or thought of her. A slow, dreamy ballad.
