“Brady, I think you and I live in reality most of the time. And in human reality, lycans and shape-shifters do not exist other than in Holywood and fiction. Even if she could live with my scars, how in the hel would I get her past the werewolf part, and the fact that I’d want to make her one? She’s naive and innocent and beautiful. I don’t want to be responsible for rattling her cage possibly hard enough to permanently dislodge a few marbles.”
Georgia couldn’t stifle the gasp this time, and by the time she covered her mouth, everything had gone silent.
“Son of a bitch.” Kish’s voice came from the end of the halway now while his steps came closer to her room.
She backed away from the door. He had to be crazy. Werewolves? Shape-shifters? Lycans? Scars she could live with, but crazy assed delusions were something else altogether.
“Georgia?” Kish’s voice was quiet.
He was standing at her door, and she froze. She wasn’t exactly scared of him. Even though she’d just realized he most likely had a few screws loose— Brady too for that matter—she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Stil, she was frightened.
“Go away, Kish.”
He took a few steps closer and stopped.
“I don’t know what kind of cult or religion or whatever the hel it is you are tangled up in, but I don’t want to hear any more. I can’t deal with something like this right now.”
“Georgia? Do you have any feelings for me at al?”
Her heart thudded painfuly in her chest. She loved him, but what did it matter now? She could never be a part of his life of fantasy. She gulped back a sob and jumped when his hand cupped her cheek gently.
Damn, the man could move quietly when he wanted.
“Kish, I can’t get involved in this.”
“Please just answer me.”
“Yes. I do, Kish. I have feelings for you. And just so you know, I don’t give one rat’s ass about your scars, but the other thing? That scares the living hel right out of me.”
His thumb stroked slowly back and forth. His rougher skin felt delicious against her face, and she fought the urge to lean into him.
“How much did you hear?”
“Pretty much al of it. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just couldn’t help my—”
“Shhh. It’s okay. I suppose you would find out one way or another at some point in time. I would have preferred to tel you in a different way.”
“No.”
“Yes. I’m not trying to scare you, sweetheart, I swear, but what you heard is the truth.”
Sweetheart. He’d caled her sweetheart, and she liked it. Don’t forget he’s freaking crazy.
“You are seriously going to stand here and try to convince me that you are a werewolf?”
“I could prove it if that would make you feel better.”
“Feel better? Nothing about this is making me feel better. This cannot be happening.” She squeezed her arms around her middle and began to pace. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m not doing anything, Georgia. I cannot help who I am or what I am for that matter. I didn’t ask to be a lycan. I was born that way just like you were born without your sight.”
Then she remembered something else he’d said while talking to Brady. “And you can give me my sight?”
“Yes, I believe I can. If I changed you, your sight would be restored. There is a tiny, minute possibility that the change would fail to give you your sight back, but I know how strong you are, and I’m confident it would work.”
“So the only thing I’d have to do to get my sight back is agree to become some monster that goes balistic at every ful moon?” She snorted. “Sure. It’s a dream come true.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, and she silently cursed herself. She’d just caled him a monster, and he might be many things, but a monster he was not.
“I didn’t mean that you—”
“Don’t worry about it. I thought you were different.”
“Kish?”
But he didn’t answer her. He was gone. Damn it, she’d flubbed that up royaly. But what the hel was she supposed say? He wanted her to believe that he was a freaking werewolf. She sat on the edge of the bed and picked at her nails. A bad habit she’d picked up years ago when she was upset or nervous.
He had growled. She snorted. That didn’t mean anything. Anyone could do that. She tried hard to convince herself of that anyway even though she was pretty sure she’d never heard anyone make a growl like Kish. The growl had sounded far from human.
Maybe it had simply been something strange he’d always been able to do. People al over the world had weird things they could do that others could not.
Then something else crept into her mind. His scent.
The hint of wildness that she’d not been able to place.
Could there be some truth to what he’d said? No!
No! No! She was not going to entertain the idea that werewolves were real, especialy while she was out in the middle of nowhere. If she alowed this idea to take root and become a possibility in her over imaginative mind, she’d drive herself crazy or scare herself to death. Maybe both.
Nonsense. She went to her door and made sure it was closed before locking it then crawled under the covers. Tomorrow, she’d have Kish take her into town and she’d stay with Henry and Joey. But could she realy walk away and forget Kish? She could walk away if she had to, but forgetting him was not an option.
Chapter Twelve
Kish ran through the deep snow until he panted.
His sides heaved and his heart ached with every beat.
He’d known from the start things wouldn’t work with Georgia, but he’d obviously hidden away some minute spark of hope that it would. She thought he was a monster. He couldn’t blame her for thinking so.
Finding out he was a lycan through overhearing he and Brady’s conversation must have been a shock to her system.
He wasn’t an idiot. It would have been a shock to her no matter how she’d found out, but he would have chosen to ease her in to it. Now she simply thought him a loony bin bound psycho. And as much as he couldn’t fault her for thinking such, it hurt that she’d automaticaly come to that conclusion without giving a second thought to actualy believing him.
Come on. She’s a human. Of course she’s not going to believe lycans are real. And to be fair, she hadn’t known him for long either. It feels as if I’ve known her forever. She obviously felt a connection to him as wel. She had responded to his kisses. Hel, she’d done more than respond. The mere memory of her legs wrapped around him as he ground against her stole the breath from his already starved lungs.
About an hour had passed, and he turned to head back home. He barely felt the snow and cold gusts of wind against his body that was protected by thick fur.
The predator of the wolf fought with the logic of the man. The wolf wanted its mate no matter the cost.
The man wanted her too, but not at the risk of harming her in any way, which included psychologicaly.
When he finaly made it to his house, he was tired.
Brady was asleep on the couch, and he went to his room, showered, and flopped naked bely-first on the bed where he immediately fel into a deep sleep.
“Can you not find some way to believe what I say is the truth?”
Georgia sat on the rail of his front porch. A sheer, white, ankle-length nightgown billowed lightly in the gentle breeze. She was radiant, amazing, perfect in every way. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders like water, and her golden skin beckoned him. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to push the silky, white fabric up past her calves, her thighs, and to her waist as he kissed his way up to the place he wanted to taste most.
After he pleasured her with his mouth, he’d take her with his body. He’d brand himself on her soul forever, and when she cried out his name, she’d know he was the only one who’d ever bring her that kind of pleasure. She’d know she was the only one that could bring him that kind of pleasure.