With a flurry of activity, she neatly stacked his discarded T-shirt, belt, watch, and sword belt on his coat on the second table. Then she arranged his weapons and ammo next to his coat. On the other end of the table, she set her knives and her backpack. All the while, she could hear sloshing noises from the far end of the cave.
Don’t look. She filled the plastic bowl with some of her bottled water, then stuck it in the microwave. While it heated, she studied the instructions on the tub of instant noodles. It looked like Japanese and English, neither of which she could read.
“How much—” She glanced his way and gasped. He was standing naked in the bathtub with his back to her while he soaped up his body. Rivulets of soapy water meandered down his broad back, dipping into the curve of his spine and sliding over a gorgeous rump. He reached up to pull the chain on the bucket overhead, and muscles rippled across his back.
Damn. Even his rump was muscular. Water poured from the bucket, dousing his head and sluicing down his body.
The microwave beeped, and she started with another gasp. She couldn’t let him catch her watching. Quickly she removed the bowl of heated water. After peeling the top halfway off the tub of noodles, she spotted a line that probably indicated how much water to pour in. With that done, she pressed the lid back down. How long would it take?
She pulled a stool up to the table and split the set of wooden chopsticks that had come with the tub. She could still hear some noises from the far end of the cave, but she didn’t dare look.
Was it a mistake to insist on living with Russell? But what else could she do? If she returned home, Rajiv would forbid her from working with Russell, and it would be terrible if she publicly disobeyed her cousin. He would lose face. The royal family would be shamed. Her reputation would be destroyed.
Of course, her reputation could already be ruined if the villagers discovered what she was doing. Rajiv was probably telling them that she was visiting family. He’d never admit that the royal princess was alone in a cave with a vampire. A naked vampire.
Footsteps approached, but she kept her gaze glued to the tub of noodles.
“You cleaned up.” He stopped by the table and grabbed the bottle of blood he’d left there. “You didn’t need to.”
“I don’t mind.” She caught a glimpse of white and ventured a peek. He had a towel wrapped around his hips. His skin still looked damp, and droplets of water dripped from his shoulder-length wet hair.
He finished his dinner, then dropped the empty bottle into a plastic crate alongside other bottles. “I drained the water out of the tub. I can put in some fresh water for you.”
“I can do it,” she insisted. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
He grabbed another towel off the bookshelf and rubbed his hair dry. The muscles on his back shifted and bunched. “You’re not a bother,” he said quietly.
When he turned toward her, she quickly focused on her dinner, tearing the lid off and stirring the noodles with her chopsticks.
“Are they done?” He sidled up next to her and peered at the tub. “I think they need to soak a bit more.”
“They’ll be fine.” She cast a sidelong glance at his towel. Why was he standing so close? “I like them firm.” She scooped up a few noodles and shoved them into her mouth.
“Good?”
She nodded while she ate.
He leaned closer. “No limp noodles for you?”
She nearly choked and grabbed the water bottle for a quick drink.
He smiled. “I’ll fill the bathtub for you.”
She ate in silence while he made several trips with his bucket from the river to the tub. By the third time he leaned over to fill the bucket, she imagined his towel falling off.
Oh God, what was happening to her? He was a vampire.
He dropped the bucket on the sandy riverbank and nudged it with his foot. “Anything else you need before I kick the bucket?”
She shook her head and concentrated on her supper. Or tried to. When he inhaled sharply, his broad chest expanded in a way she could hardly ignore. “Is something wrong?”
“First . . . warning.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I’ll be dead in about five minutes.”
She swallowed hard. What could she say? See you later? Have a nice . . . nap? “You can feel it coming?”
“Yes.” He wandered into the river and sloshed the sand off his feet. “I’ll see you at sunset.”
She was about to respond when he vanished. She jumped to her feet, then spotted him slipping underneath the blanket on his bed. He tossed his towel to the foot of the bed, then leaned back, pulling the blanket up to his chest.
Apparently, he did his death-sleep in the nude. He lifted an arm, bending it at the elbow and resting the hand behind his head.
He has a lovely profile, she thought as she watched him gaze up at the rock ceiling. And the bicep of his raised arm made her mouth run dry. His chest expanded again, and he shut his eyes.
She inched closer. Was he dead?
“Are you going to watch me die?” he asked softly.
She winced. “Does it hurt?”
He opened his eyes and gave her a wry look. “What do you think?”
“I . . . guess it hurts.”
He nodded. “You get used to it. Half dead is better than full dead.”
“You’re not half dead. When you’re alive, you’re very alive.”
A corner of his mouth curled up. “Are you a Pollyanna?”
The last word had been in English, so she didn’t understand. “What is that?”
“Someone who sees good in things.” His small smile faded. “Even when there is none.”
Was he referring to himself? Did he not know he was a good man? His chest expanded suddenly, and he lowered his arm as a pained look crossed his face.
She rushed toward him. “There is good in you. I know it.”
He gave her a look of astonishment, then exhaled slowly as his eyes flickered shut.
He was gone. Jia’s chest tightened. She’d never seen a vampire fall into his death-sleep before. It was more dramatic than she’d realized. And so sad that they had to endure it over and over for as long as they lived.
She touched his neck. No pulse that she could detect. His hair brushed against her fingers, soft and still damp. Dark whiskers shaded his chiseled jaw. There was a tiny scar on his left cheekbone. He must have been injured before becoming a vampire.
She turned his right hand over and smoothed her fingers over his tattoo. The Chinese word for “slave,” though she couldn’t imagine Russell ever being anyone’s slave. “How did you get this? What happened to you?”
Her gaze shifted to his handsome face, and she groaned at how little she knew about him. “Why do you live all alone in a cave? Why aren’t you in America with your family? What did Han do to you that you have to kill him?” She sighed. “Why do you have to be a vampire?”
No answer, of course. He’ll be back, she assured herself. He’ll wake up at sunset. But he might never answer her questions.
Sunlight filtered through the new hole in the roof, illuminating the kitchen area. Quickly, she examined Russell’s face and arms. No burn marks. It would be awful if the hole she’d made caused him any harm. But his bed was safe in a dark alcove with a solid rock ceiling overhead.
Back in the kitchen area, she tossed the cold tub of noodles into the trash bin and wiped down the table.
A whole day stuck in Russell’s cave. She was too hyped up now to sleep, so she wandered about, familiarizing herself with her new home. Russell had some clean clothes and towels stashed on the shelves of his bookcase. The top shelf held a CD player, a stack of CDs, and some books.
Most of the books were in English, but she spotted one that she could partly read. Chinese for Dummies. The translated title made her smile. Russell was no dummy. The CDs were also about learning Chinese. She imagined him here all alone, practicing night after night. He spoke fairly well. His pronunciation was off sometimes, but it was kinda . . . cute. And sexy. He was a man who didn’t let the need to learn a foreign language get in the way of his mission.
On the bottom shelf, she found a carved, wooden box. The latch appeared old and rusted. She brought the box to the table and ran her fingers over the woodwork. Roses and small birds had been carved in a primitive but beautiful style. Homemade.