Brilliant Heart (Dark Wing Series Book 2) Page 9

  “You’re an angel.” His chest tightened again. Things were different. He reached out and touched her hair.

  “Thanks.” Elizabeth smirked at him. “You need to rest. Your pulse is inconsistent. I’m not sure what the energy did to you, but you need to be still, I think? Rest is never a bad thing.” Her hand on his shoulder sent warmth through his body. He nestled down, resting against her touch, and fell asleep.

  The assault of dreams lessened. He spent a long period of time in between sleep and consciousness. On a normal day he enjoyed the sensation, using it to free think on the problems or the encumberments of the day. Today the onslaught of irrational sensations made thinking uncomfortable. He wrestled with why. The energy.

  He awoke fully, this time to complete darkness. Shirtless, he was covered by a black crocheted afghan as he lay on top of the sheets. A soft purring came from behind him. He rolled over with care to jostle the bed as little as possible. Elizabeth snored. She lay pinned against the wall, wearing a black Dark Wing T-shirt and leggings with cartoon dogs from some of his favorite childhood movies on them, her feet snuggly tucked under the edge of the afghan. The locket around her neck lay by her chin. A strong desire to open it pecked at him. He didn’t.

  Tad closed his eyes again and took inventory. He was okay. Not great, but his shifter healing had taken care of whatever the magical energy had done to his body. His mind? He wasn’t sure about that.

  He opened his eyes again as Elizabeth stirred. Her hair fell around her face. She rubbed her nose, still asleep. Tad reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her hair down yesterday nearly sent him into cardiac arrest. His cock was hard, then and now. Her curly auburn locks bounced around her face; he twirled one around his finger. What did the magical energy do to me? tickled around his head. He was different. Something had shifted in him. He couldn’t quantify it and it pissed him off.

  Elizabeth opened her eyes. “You’re awake. And you look better.” Her tender expression warmed him.

  “I’m better.” He should take his hand out of her hair, but he didn’t. She leaned in.

  Her hand touched his chest on the only tattoo he had.

  “Stamme. What does it mean?” She ran her hand over the ink, his skin goose-bumping as she touched him.

  “Family, tribe. In Norwegian. My mom’s from there. She moved to the States when she was little.” He watched her hand glide over the letters.

  “You were sweating, so I had to take off your shirt and undershirt.” Tension radiated from her.

  “It’s fine. You’re a doctor; I’m a shifter—we’re used to being naked in front of people.” Words. That’s all they were. He wanted to lick every inch of her. They weren’t going to mate, but he needed her touch. And now.

  Her hand flattened against his chest. In a breath, his lips crashed against hers. She pulled her shirt over her head, her locket hanging between her perfect breasts. Their hands tangled. His lips found the soft spot behind her ear. He nibbled.

  He left a trail of kisses down her chest to her belly. With each one his heart beat faster. He pushed the black afghan to the floor and pulled her into the middle of the bed, straddling her as he kissed his way farther down to her core. He tugged on her colorful leggings, and she arched her back to help him get them off. The scent it released drove him crazy.

  Elizabeth’s pussy, covered in dark auburn curls, beckoned him. He parted her slick folds, and his tongue flicked at her sensitive clit. She bucked and moaned as he fingered her deep, running his fingers over the rough patch in her vagina. Medical school had helped him make his company worth billions, and it gave him the knowledge to drive her mad with lust.

  He rubbed the patch again as his tongue sucked at her clitoris. He pinched the plump nub. Her pussy clenched his fingers as the orgasm fluttered through her. Knees clenched and crashed against his head as she weathered her release.

  His cock as hard as stone, he kissed his way up to her breasts. With each touch he wanted to tell her a story of her beauty. It was extraordinarily different from any other sex he’d had—no thought at all. No lists of how to please her more here, by doing this instead of that.

  “Theodore, holy heck. That was amazing.”

  He chuckled. His hands trailed around her thighs as she shivered from aftershocks. He kissed her, letting her taste herself on his tongue. She reached for the button on his pants, the button his cock would pop on its own soon. He kissed his way back to her ear, grabbing both of her hands, pinning them above her head.

  “Let me.”

  Her mouth was captured to silence the words that he didn’t want to hear. This was only sex, he told himself. He’d never had to remind himself of that before.

  Tad straddled her body, capturing her on the bed, and his mate took that as an opportunity to grind herself against him. He groaned with frustration. Not claiming her would be an issue. As it was now, his wolf was howling for him to mate her. To slam into her lush body with no barrier between them. No claiming, he barked to his wolf. They weren’t going to be mates; they’d made that clear last night. This was sex for release only. The thought was bitter. He’d given her hers and he could go without. The frenzy of emotions pounding at him scared the shit out of him.

  She ground against him again.

  “Elizabeth, we can’t.”

  And with those two words, he saw his mate regain her control. He let go of her hands and caressed the side of her face as her breathing slowed.

  Only the bathroom night light lit the room, and he wondered how much she could see. Did he appear as lost and confused as he was? If he mated her, one of them would have to give up what they knew as their life. And he would never do that to her. His hand was in his beard now. How long had it been there?

  “You are stronger than me. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone that I’ve thought of as being stronger than me.” Her eyes were clear now.

  “Doc, you’re on a ship full of shifters.” He tried to joke; she understood. And he had to glance away because he didn’t think he could be strong for long.

  She blinked to keep tears from falling. He rubbed the liquid away with his thumb and placed a gentle kiss on the side of her mouth. The ache of her tears pounded on him. He was taking in everything about her he could. He got out of the bed, unsure if she would ever let him get this close again. His chest tightened, and a void of hollowness he’d never known cracked in him. His wolf howled at his skin.

  He found his shirt folded on her desk, his shoes and socks under the desk. He pulled his shirt on while she pulled the sheet over herself and propped herself up, watching him dress. Tad bent over while reaching for his shoes for longer than necessary. He sat on the chair next to the bed, putting his socks on.

  “If you have any more tests to grade, I would love to help out.” He should run away and never come back. But it was a ship. They would see each other anyway. He could be an adult. The truth was, while they didn’t fit in each other’s lives, he liked her. And if he focused he could bring her pleasure without taking any for himself. That could work, he lied to himself. He prided himself on his focus. Never mind all the strange things rattling around in his head. Focus was his superpower.

  “Thanks, but there won’t be another test for a week or two.”

  “What about a surprise quiz?” He flipped her onto her back and straddled her.

  “So that you have something to do? This is your vacation.” She smiled up at him.

  “I thought—maybe—I could help.” He kissed her neck.

  “You’ve done plenty already. It was unlike anything I’ve ever . . .” Her bare arms folded over the front of the sheet. “We’re not mating. Like we said earlier. I have too much riding on my research.”

  He pulled away, nodded, and kissed her nose.

  “It’s not what you want.” He didn’t say it wasn’t what he wanted because he no longer knew what he wanted. His needs, desires, and rational logical self were officially at war.

  “No mating,” Elizab
eth said. She sounded sad? He never guessed right on emotions.

  “Are you sure? You sound upset.”

  “I’m fine,” she grunted. Now she was upset. Fuck. This was why a mate for him wouldn’t work. He had no idea what to do.

  “Good.” He pulled on his shirt.

  “Great,” she huffed.

  Shit, now he was more confused than ever. When one of the pack females said something like that, it meant the opposite. But she was a scientist, a researcher, like him. Did she mean the opposite? “Do you mean it makes sense and you don’t want to mate? Or do you mean I’m supposed to keep trying?”

  “Get out, Tad!”

  “Doc?”

  “That means get out. Now. Clear and simple. Get out.” She threw her pillow at him, her long arm and finger pointing towards the door.

  A pillow? Maybe he was getting better at relationships. At least he didn’t have to wash marinara sauce out of his hair. He scanned Elizabeth’s face. Nope. Not better. He grabbed his shoes and stumbled out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He went down the hallway and turned the corner to the elevator. There stood Violet in her robe, her hair in a bun at the top of her head. “Just on time, Mutt. You’re coming with me.” She grabbed the crook of his arm and guided him back down the hallway past the doctor’s room towards her own.

  13

  Sensory Overload

  Elizabeth sat on the edge of her bed. She squirted a large dab of pink lotion into the palm of her hand and rubbed it into her skin. Even after a twenty-minute scrub in the shower, his scent remained. All of her senses felt off, or rather more on. It unnerved her. They weren’t mated. She reached for her notebook to take notes.

  Were her senses changing? She pulled on a pair of over-washed scrubs given to her two years ago by Anna, little boxes of cereal over them with small daggers hidden in the pattern, and clicked on the reading light above her small desk. The orange binder lay open on the desk. She flipped through it again. Her research. Or rather the portion of her research that she kept in her room for those nights that she didn’t sleep. It kept her out of the infirmary for an extra hour.

  The first time the captain had asked her to switch her research topics, he offered her a grand cabin, one of the few officer cabins on the upper decks with the guests. But the thought of running into patients at night on her way back to her cabin didn’t make her want a sunnier room with a view. No, she liked being close to the clinic. If she took a room on the upper decks, she’d have more room to spread out in, but less time to do it. Practicality won out.

  She rested on her bed, her back leaning against the wall. She pulled the large binder onto her lap and turned to her latest case study: an omega shifter whose mate died four months before the cruise. His children brought him on the cruise as a distraction from his grief. He came into the infirmary with chest pains the second night. It wasn’t a heart attack. At least, none of the markers in the tests came back that anything had happened to his heart. But the outward signs all pointed to it.

  She flipped backward to another case. This one puzzled her even more. She hadn’t met the patient, rather had gathered the records from a researcher on land. After the patient’s spouse died of a car crash, they developed the symptoms of diabetes, despite there being nothing wrong with their glucose levels. Within a month they were dead. She read the case again, finding it hard to focus. Not being able to focus wasn’t acceptable.

  Her phone vibrated, and she felt around the bed for it and then the desk and under the bed. Finally, she pulled back the covers and scooped it up. “Hello,” she said, realizing that she hadn’t checked to see who was calling before hitting the connect button.

  “Bethie.”

  Sugar. She pulled the phone away from her face, confirming that it was Phillip. Not that she needed to glance at the screen ID. No one else would dare to call her that. She rolled her eyes.

  “Phillip,” she said sharply.

  “Oh, honey, don’t be that way.”

  “What way? The way that says we’re done? Don’t call me Bethie, but more simply don’t—call—me—anymore!”

  “Stop. I mean, please stop. Can’t you meet me so we can talk this out?”

  She needed to have Anna teach her how to block his number. It couldn’t be that hard, right? “Well, I’m busy right now, Phillip. And not exactly on the mainland.”

  “No probs. I have a buddy’s plane, and I’m flying it to your first port.”

  No probs? How did she ever date him? “No, Phillip, that’s not necessary.”

  “It’s necessary. We need to meet. We just have to talk this through.”

  “There’s nothing left to talk through, Phillip. I’m not going to Durham. And . . .”

  “AND?”

  “Even if I was going to be on the mainland, we wouldn’t be together. And if you stop and think about it, you’ll see I’m right.”

  “No, I think you’ll understand it my way when I’m in port tomorrow. I have my buddy’s plane for the week, so I can meet you at each port. Won’t that be great?” He was taking a whole week off—he must be desperate. His grand gesture left her cold.

  “No, don’t. It’s not great, and you’re not listening to me.” Elizabeth stared at the phone. Phillip had already hung up. “Oh no you don’t.” She dialed him back, but voice mail picked up. “Under no circumstances are you to come to port tomorrow. I will not see you. And the ship’s security will be looking for you too. And if it wasn’t over before, you not listening to me makes it even more over. It’s . . . double over.” She sounded like a fool, but that was how he made her feel.

  Even more over? What was happening to her? Steps echoed down the hall. Someone was walking down the hall, and it sounded like they were wearing lead boots. Elephants with leg weights. She threw open the door. Two waitstaff girls, Naomi and Colette, were walking down the hallway. “Who’s making all the noise? We need to have more respect and be quieter for each other in the morning.”

  “No one else was in the hallway, Doctor,” Colette said.

  “No one?”

  “No one. Just us. We’ll try to be quieter, though. Sorry, Doctor,” Naomi said, and the two of them thundered down the hallway. Although they weren’t thundering: they were walking and Colette had taken off her shoes.

  “Sorry,” she called after them as she closed the door with what she perceived as a thud, and she jumped.

  She smelled of Tad, and sex, just from lying on her bed. Well, sugar. She took another shower that felt like she was on the ship that sailed under the Niagara Falls. It seemed like a good idea when you bought the ticket, but once you were on board, it was overly loud, steamy, and boring. She put on fresh scrubs and headed to the clinic.

  * * *

  Anna was already there, even though their shift didn’t start until 9:00 a.m.

  “How are things?” Anna smirked.

  “Weird.” After Tad left, she dozed back into a disrupted sleep, with odd dreams of the captain being yelled at by a woman in white.

  Anna leaned forward. “If weird means good, then I’m happy for you.”

  “Awkward, weird, fantastic, and, well, ugly after I threw him out.”

  “You did what now?” Anna’s eyes went wide.

  Elizabeth looked down at the end of the clinic.

  “Katie and the night crew are gone. No patients.” Anna opened the door to Elizabeth’s office, and the two of them went in.

  Elizabeth weighed the options of not telling Anna everything. But the problem of having a puma as a best friend was that they knew when you were leaving out bits of truth. But she had to keep the incident with Sam to herself for now.

  “We agreed that we didn’t have to mate, that it wasn’t what we wanted. And then when we took it a little too far and he was strong enough to walk away . . . I got mad . . . I mean . . . Yeah. I got mad. It was overwhelming how much I wanted him. And he was so rational and it set off a rage in me.”

  Anna nodded at her.

  “
In that moment I would have given him anything. But he had enough control to stop. And that, well . . . how could he have that much control?”

  “Wait, so you’re telling me that you told him you didn’t want to be his mate. And when he didn’t mate you, you got mad? Ah. Come on now. You’re kidding, right?”

  Elizabeth looked down at the ground. Hearing it out loud made her sound like the crazy one now. “No, I wish I was.” She wished she could talk to Anna about Sam, but that was something she wanted to talk to Violet about first.

  “I know there’s more. It’s okay. You don’t have to share everything.” Anna gave Elizabeth a hug, and Elizabeth let out a long sigh. “It’ll be okay. You’ll figure it out.”

  “Oh, crap, I forgot what else happened this morning. Phillip called and I couldn’t find my phone, and by the time I found it, I answered without looking to see who was calling. He’s planning on meeting the ship at the first port of call.”

  “No.”

  “Ja, it gets worse. He’s borrowed his buddy’s plane. He’s going to follow the ship. And you know what a terrible pilot he is.”

  Anna was grimacing and trying not to laugh. “Did you just say ‘ja’ instead of ‘yes?’”

  “No. Did I? Why would I do that?” Elizabeth looked at Anna quizzically.

  “Yes, you did. Has anything else happened to you this morning?”

  “Things seem a little loud. I figured I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

  Anna gave her a look. A look Elizabeth had seen before. “We didn’t mate.”

  “But you got close?”

  “You could say so, yes. See, I said ‘yes’ not ‘ja.’” Elizabeth sat down at the laptop at her desk. Her finger flew across the shifter medical database. The internet was frustratingly slow. She watched the spinning wheel. She pulled up the ship’s location on its internal net. The farther out in open water, the slower and weaker the ship’s internet became. Anna watched silently over her shoulder.