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enemy. Any enemy of his could never touch her. His enemies did not last very long.
    He gently inserted his fingers between her mouth and the wound in his chest. Her tongue instinctively followed the little trickle of ruby beads away from the slash. The movement was naturally sensual, and his breath hissed out of his lungs as he closed the wound and tipped her face up to his, using two fingers, forcing her eyes to meet his.
    “
Te avio päläfertiilam
. You are my lifemate.
Ainaak sívamet jutta oleny
. You are bound to me for all eternity.
Ainaak terád vigyázak
. You are always in my care.”
    He took her mouth. Gentle. Reverent even. Tasting the mixture of their blood now flowing together to form a mutual path. He closed his eyes, savoring her. Savoring the moment. She wouldn’t remember other than in a dream. He wanted that for her. He wanted her to get used to his world slowly, taking it in a little at a time so she wouldn’t be too frightened and she would be able to accept her fate over time.
    He used his tongue rather than his mind to remove all evidence of his blood from her lips and mouth. He loved touching her. Loved having her next to his skin. He especially loved the silk of her hair against him. Sensations were sensual. He craved them now that he could feel. Every sensation she could give him. How could he possibly let her go, even for a moment, after waiting so long for her?
    Still, he set her to one side, his hands reluctantly leaving the warmth of her body. He took a breath and gave the command for her to awaken fully. Her lashes fluttered. Lifted. He found himself looking straight into her dark melted chocolate eyes. So dark a man might get lost there.
    She brought up a trembling hand and touched her lips, her gaze moving over his chest – a chest that had no shirt but revealed heavy muscles, four circular older scars and wounds that were healed. Completely. Absolutely healed. Gone.
    She swallowed and glanced down at her watch. “I feel like I missed something important.” The moment she spoke, she touched her lip where it had stung, especially when she talked. Her hand moved from her lip to her face where it had been swollen.
    He smiled to reassure her. “I, too, am a healer. The sight of you bruised and battered was abhorrent to me. No man should put his hands on a woman like that. Especially you. I felt compelled to heal you,” he added honestly. “Are you in any pain at all?” Because he would start all over if she was.
    She shook her head. “I was supposed to heal you.”
    She sounded a little disappointed and he hid a smile. He had forgotten smiles. He doubted if he’d ever smiled much. The sensation was wonderful and a little shocking. “Next time. I seriously couldn’t allow you to be in pain.”
    “Are you an empath?” Her eyes were on his chest.
    She had a difficult time pulling her gaze away, and he was suddenly grateful he hadn’t donned a clean shirt. That meant he would have to manufacture a stash of clothes for the time being, enough that she would be eased into his world as gently as possible. She liked his chest and the muscles there. He had plenty from so many centuries of battling the undead.
    He also had a few scars, including the four circular ones that would never leave his body. Carpathians rarely scarred. The wound had to be mortal – one that was deadly. He’d taken a few very nasty jabs to his heart when a master vampire had nearly managed to rip the organ from his body. He’d been lucky that time. Skill had little to do with saving his life, although his vast experience had definitely aided him. The worst scar was there, and he saw her gaze fall to it several times, no doubt wondering why the scar was the size of a fist and looked as if an animal had tried to rip him open.
    “I’m Andre. Andre Boroi.” His heart leapt when he gave himself that precious last name – the surname that actually meant something to him. The one he had vowed he would never use