Read Online Nocturne by Syrie James - Free Book Online

relative?”
    “Never.”
    She shook her head in wonder. “That is really . . .”
    “Sad?” he finished for her, a self-effacing glint in his eyes.
    “I was going to say astonishing .”
    He smiled, opened the book to the title page, inscribed something there, and returned it to her. She thanked him.
    Standing up, he said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take another look at that cut on your head before you retire, to make sure it’s healing properly.”

    MICHAEL LED THE WAY BACK across the house to the master bathroom, where he instructed Nicole to hop up onto the counter and sit facing him. Her legs dangled between them.
    “Now I understand why you know so much about first aid and medicine,” she said suddenly. “You must have learned it while researching your books about Dr. Robinson and Dr. Barclay.”
    He nodded. As he began untying the bandage from her forehead, his hips came in contact with her knees. The contact caused him to draw a breath that was out of rhythm with the others. You’re playing with fire , he reminded himself. This is madness. And yet he continued.
    “The medical scenes in your novels are so detailed and explicit. How do you do your research?” she asked.
    “I read a lot. I have shelves of medical texts and books about the period. There’s a wealth of information online. And . . . I have a doctor friend I consult with from time to time, to make sure I get the facts right.”
    What a shame , he thought as he slowly unwound her bandage, that I have to keep lying to her . He’d been manufacturing identities with corresponding back stories for such a long time, it came as easy as breathing—but he’d grown weary of it. For once, he wished he could be open and honest with someone— with her . To his surprise, he realized he wouldn’t mind talking with her all night long. It seemed they had a lot in common. He felt they’d never run out of interesting topics to explore.
    What would she think, he wondered, if he told her the truth?
    Don’t be an idiot , he warned himself. The truth was something that simply couldn’t be shared. And it wasn’t as if she was being entirely up front with him. For some reason, she was being cagey about her past. The minute he’d asked about her former occupation, she’d cut him off and changed the subject. What was she hiding?
    As he removed the dressing, he tilted her chin slightly with his hand and tried to examine the spot on her temple beneath the butterfly bandage—but he couldn’t seem to focus on the wound. Her skin felt hot against his fingers. He could hear her heart pounding more quickly than usual, which made his mouth go dry, even as her nearness inspired a very different kind of desire. Her lips were just inches from his, and he resisted an unexpected impulse to kiss her.
    “It’s healing nicely,” he said abruptly, taking a step back. “The bleeding’s stopped and there’s no sign of infection.”
    She turned and critically studied her injury in the mirror. “Oh, that’s ugly.”
    Michael gazed at her mirror image in sympathy, grateful that the legend about his kind having no reflection was either a myth or for some reason did not apply to him. “It looks worse than it is. The head bleeds more than any other part of the body—”
    “—due to the thin skin,” she mused.
    “More or less, but—”
    “—it wasn’t deep enough to require stitches?”
    “No. It should heal quickly and cleanly and only leave a small scar, most of which will be covered by your hair.”
    “That’s a relief.”
    She turned back to face him again, still seated on the counter. He put on a clean compress, opting to leave off the head bandage this time and simply secure it with a small piece of tape. “In the morning, if you don’t see any blood seepage, you can remove the compress. But it’s important that you keep the wound dry, so don’t wash your hair.”
    “Got it. Thanks.”
    He put his hands around her waist and helped her down