Blood Flame (The Flame Series Book 1) by Caris Roane Page A

He wanted to say something to her, to express his gratitude, but couldn’t. He was feeling too much
    Then she spoke several magical words all strung together. “Are you hungry? I mean I know I just fed you, but neither of us has eaten since this whole thing began. I could do sandwiches. I have a nice pumpernickel bread and pastrami. No fancy mustard, though. Oh, and a really strong Stout beer.”
    He groaned. “You have no idea how perfect that sounds. I mean it.”
    She rose to her feet. She drew the tank from between her legs, but kept hold of it as she gathered up her own clothes and her gun and holster.
    Gaining his feet, he did the same with his belongings then followed after her as she headed to the back door. Along the way, he glanced into her bedroom, really liking that it overlooked the garden as well from a pair of French doors. Glancing up, the spell looked as strong as ever. From his point of view, this would be a solid place to remain through the day.
    Once inside, she turned to look at him over her bare shoulder. “I’m going to clean up a little then I’ll be right back.”
    “Anything I can do?” he asked. He set his clothes on the couch.
    “You’re fine. I’ll only be a couple of minutes. It’ll be quicker if I fix the meal myself.”
    “Okay, but let me know if you need anything.”
    He put his tank and leathers back on, grateful he had a clean change of clothes for tomorrow. And he’d definitely want to shower before bed.
    When Iris returned, he watched a whirlwind whip around the kitchen as she moved from cupboard to fridge to sink and back. Within a couple of minutes, he was chowing down on an excellent sandwich.
    ~ ~ ~
    An hour later and ready for a good day’s sleep, Iris stared down at the faded pink-and-green flowered quilt on her bed. She hadn’t slept beside a man in ten years. Though the queen-size mattress had been more than enough for her, it seemed to shrink but in a good way. Connor was a big man.
    While he showered, she drew the covers back, turned the sheet down and plumped the pillows. She felt oddly nervous, knowing she’d be sleeping beside him. In many ways, she barely knew him.
    Her room was simple, with an antique chest of drawers, a full-length mirror, a basket of dried flowers on the floor, smallish oak end tables. The French doors served as the main window. More light came from a long, narrow, diamond-paned panel of glass above the bed but only a foot from the ceiling.
    Because of the protective spell, she’d felt comfortable leaving the French doors wide. She loved fresh air in a bedroom and early March had perfect temperatures in the desert to make it possible.
    Slipping off her robe, she climbed into bed. She rarely slept in a nightgown and saw no need to wear one now. Besides, she was pretty sure Connor wouldn’t mind at all.
    She pulled the sheet up high enough to cover her breasts, then turned on her side. She set her gaze on her garden, enjoying the beauty she could see easily at night because of her alter vision.
    As the shower drummed, what she didn’t understand was what she was supposed to do with Connor. Part of her wanted to keep him tied up in her bedroom for a really long time. Another part thought she would be wise to cut her losses and run.
    All this flurry of sexual craving and now satisfaction still didn’t mean she could have a real relationship with him. She’d felt him during the first few minutes of being with him on Sentinel Bridge. He had a darkness in his soul, and she had no idea why. Something had happened in his past, an event that had turned him inside out and probably something beyond the way he’d been ushered into an altered state.
    Her concerns, however, wouldn’t be eased in one night. Fatigue from all she’d been through began having an effect. She breathed deeply and sleep curled through her mind.
    The night had been unbelievable on every possible front, but her stomach was full, she’d had extraordinary sex with the man