The Bite Before Christmas by Heidi Betts

Author:Heidi Betts
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: American Light Romantic Fiction, Romance - Paranormal, Christian, American Science Fiction And Fantasy, Horror, Paranormal, Fiction, Romance, Fantasy, Occult & Supernatural, Fiction - Romance
ISBN: 9780758247612
Publisher: Brava
Published: 2010-10-15T23:05:58.937000+00:00

TYPE B-POSITIVE

“What the hell?” He jerked back, lifting his hands to examine them more closely…only to have his palms sting as they now came in contact with the early morning sunlight and began to scorch.

“Shit,” he swore, taking another jerky step back, and then another.

A sound of panic, of urgency, came from Vivian’s direction as she lurched forward, dragging the curtains closed without ever stepping into so much as a millimeter of daylight herself, and pushed him forcefully backward to the sofa.

“Sit,” she ordered before bustling off down the hall.

Like he had a choice. When his calves hit the edge of the couch, he sank down on the thick cushions, but his knees were so weak, he’d have dropped to the floor if the sofa hadn’t been there to catch him.

Holy Jesus. The sun had actually burned him—and not in the fun, just-got-back-from-a-Jamaican-vaca sort of way.

And it hurt. Shock had kept him from feeling anything for the first couple of minutes, but now the blisters covering his skin stung like a thousand tiny pinpricks.

Not just his hands, either, but his face and neck, as well. He lifted his fingers to his cheeks, but couldn’t tell if both were burned or not. It was just a sensation of blisters upon blisters.

So maybe this wasn’t a dream, after all. As much as he didn’t want to admit that this might be real, he wasn’t sure he had a choice. One couldn’t feel pain inside a dream, could they?

While he was staring at his hands and trying to come to terms with what was going on, Vivian returned to sit beside him, dumping a handful of items on the coffee table.

“I told you,” she said with barely suppressed accusation. “I tried to warn you.”

As angry as she sounded, she was completely gentle when she uncapped a tube of ointment and started spreading the greasy stuff in a thin layer across his face. His nose, his cheeks, his forehead, even his lips. Then she took his arms by the wrists and covered his hands, both front and back.

If he hadn’t been in a fog of confusion and smarting from second-degree burns, he knew her attentions would have turned him on big-time. As it was, the soft, even strokes of her fingertips had heat pooling in his groin and made him imagine those same fingers caressing him in passion rather than nursing.

“You’ll heal completely in a couple of hours,” she told him, “but this will help with the pain.”

Setting aside the ointment, she opened another bottle of the stuff she’d fed him earlier, stuck a straw straight in, and held it to his lips. He met her gaze for a moment, even though everything in him was screaming for him to drink.

“I know what you think, but I also know how much you want this. Just drink it. I’ll pinch your nose for you, if you want me to, but trust me that you’ll feel better afterward, and it will help you to heal a lot faster.

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