Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“There you are, my lady,” he said courteously. “Would you like some help with the harness?”
“Oh, er, thank you. Yes, I guess so. It might be hard to buckle with this.” She indicated her wounded finger, which she had rewrapped in the bloody tissue.
Hold frowned.
“Let me strap you in first, then I’ll get the Med Aid kit and bind your wound.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” she protested—rather breathlessly, he thought—as he strapped her into the five-point harness.
“Yes, I do.” Hold met her eyes and gave her a smile. “You’re our bride—I have to take care of you.”
Her cheeks went pink but she lifted her chin defiantly and said,
“I’m not your bride. I’m going to be marrying Peter on Christmas Eve!”
“We’ll see about that, lelka,” Fierce growled softly, looking down at her. “Ready for lift off?” he asked, switching his attention to Hold.
“Ready,” Hold acknowledged, as he rummaged in the side compartment for the Med Aid kit. He found it at last and held it in his lap. He would wait until they had a clean lift off and had cleared the Earth’s atmosphere before he tended Celia’s finger.
“Then here we go!”
Fierce punched the fuel pedal and pulled back on the steering yoke. Beside him, Hold heard their new bride give a gasp and a muffled,
“Madre de Dios!”
Instinctively, he put his arm around her shoulders. There was nothing sexual in the touch—he just wanted to reassure her.
“It’s all right,” he murmured as the long range shuttle lifted straight into the clear blue Earth sky. “The ride gets smoother once we clear the atmosphere.”
“I…I’ve never been out of Earth’s atmosphere before,” she admitted in a slightly shaky voice. “I’ve only ever been in a plane twice before—both times with Peter,” she added.
“Well, flying with us is perfectly safe,” Hold assured her, ignoring her mention of the human male. “Fierce is an excellent pilot—in fact, that’s his job aboard the Mother Ship—he’s a pilot and he leads a squadron of ships.”
“Oh…I see.” She glanced briefly up at Fierce, who was concentrating intently on the ship’s controls and then back to Hold. “And…what do you do? For a job, I mean?”
“I’m a doctor. Speaking of which, will you let me tend your wound?” Hold held out his free hand to her—he still had his left arm around her shoulders.
“Um…I guess so.” Hesitantly, she extended her finger.
“Thank you.” Hold withdrew his arm and opened the kit. He got out the wound cleaner and some skin glue—the slice in her finger wasn’t deep, so the glue should close it nicely. “This might sting a little,” he warned her as he applied the cleaner.
Celia didn’t flinch, though she did mutter, “Dios,” under her breath.
Hold tended her gently, taking his time and enjoying the touch of her skin. Again, nothing he did was sexual, but at this point, it didn’t need to be.
They needed to take some time to get to know their new bride outside of the dreams they’d all been sharing, he told himself. No matter how impatient Fierce might be, he knew a slower strategy would work.
They would bring Celia to them a little at a time until she realized that they were the males who were right for her—the ones she needed to Bond with and be with forever.
6
CELIA
Celia bit her lip as she watched Hold tend her wounded finger. She had to admit that Peter had never done anything like this for her before. Her fiancé was extremely squeamish when it came to blood. In fact, the last time Celia had pricked her finger with a needle, he had nearly fainted when he saw a single drop of it.
Hold, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem with blood—which made sense, since he was a doctor. The big warrior was gentle and thorough in treating her small wound. And not only that—he smelled really good. She tried not to, but Celia couldn’t help comparing him to her fiancé yet again.
Peter always smelled strongly of an ultra expensive Burberry cologne that could only be purchased at a special perfumery in New York. It had a sharp, acerbic scent which stung Celia’s nose if he wore too much—which he often did. But the big Kindred warrior sitting next to her smelled completely different.
Hold had a warm, clean, fresh scent that seemed to have several layers. Fresh laundry was one, maybe from his clothes. And under that was a crisp, salty note like the sea and then under that was a warm, masculine spice like cedar shavings. All of that mixed together smelled wonderful, Celia couldn’t help thinking. Was it some kind of cologne or just his natural scent?
She didn’t know, since she’d never been up close to a Kindred before, though she’d seen them in downtown Tampa from time to time.
“Why did you come with us?” Hold’s quiet question pulled her out of her musings and caught her off guard.