Zen and the Art of Vampires by Katie MacAlister

Author:Katie MacAlister
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance Fiction, Vampires, Mystery & Detective, Pia, Paranormal Romance, Paranormal, General, Romance, Vacations, Thompson, Fiction, Occult & Supernatural, Love Stories
ISBN: 9780451225603
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2008-12-02T05:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 11

I had to admit that Kristoff, no matter how brusque, had a point—I had all my clothing, while he had nothing but what he wore. I opened my suitcase and pulled out a sweater and scarf that were intended for use during a visit to a glacier… a visit I wouldn't get to make.

Bundled up as much as I could manage without actually crawling inside the bag, I sat huddled on my appointed bed and shivered, flicking the light around the barn to make sure there weren't bats or anything that could come swooping down on me while I slept, occasionally sending the light over to the lump Kristoff made.

He didn't move.

I told myself to stop worrying and just go to sleep, but tired though I was, the cold and discomfort kept me from relaxing. At every little rustle, every cold draft, every breeze wafting the smell of mildewed straw and ages-old manure, I hunkered down, more and more miserable, until I couldn't stand it any longer.

"I'm still cold, Kristoff."

He was silent so long, I thought he might be asleep. Finally he sat up and tossed me his blanket. It stank of mildew and horse and sweat, but it held delicious warmth from his body.

"I'm not going to take your blanket!" I said, reluctantly throwing it back to him. "Isn't there another one?"

"No." He didn't insist I take the blanket, just wrapped it back around himself and laid down. "Put on some more clothes."

"I've put on everything I have that's warm, and I'm still too cold to sleep."

The silence was even longer this time, and I could have sworn I heard another martyred sigh, but at last he yanked the blanket out from where it was tucked underneath him. "Get under the blanket, then."

I didn't wait to be told twice. I also didn't examine the wisdom of cuddling up next to a murderous vampire—I clutched my flashlight and scooted over to his bed, crawling in behind him, shivering as I carefully tucked the blanket over me. It didn't quite reach all of me.

He suffered through a good ten minutes of my teeth chattering and shivering before he swore in Italian, sat up, jerked off his leather coat, and slapped it over the top of me, on the outside of the blanket. He laid back down on his side, giving me his back.

"Oh, thank you," I said gratefully, and scooched in until I was pressed against his back, blissfully soaking in the warmth he radiated. It took a few minutes before I realized that he wore nothing but a thin black T-shirt. The blanket itself wasn't very warm, and with his leather jacket draped over me, and my cold body pressed against him, he couldn't be staying very warm in the cool summer night air. I sat up and peeled off the couple of extra layers I'd donned, draping them over our bodies on top of the blanket before curling up behind him again.

"You are a strange woman," he said after a few minutes.

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