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with that, but admitting she had would mean admitting to being able to control minds and she wasn’t willing to do that. So, she simply said, “She’s obviously ill. Perhaps her illness is affecting her taste buds somehow, like when you get a cold or flu. Nothing tastes the same as it normally does when you’re sick. I’d try different foods with her.”
    Paul relaxed slowly, and nodded, apparently finding that a sensible explanation. Smiling wryly, he said, “I’ll feed her ham and cheese sandwiches for every meal if it means she’ll eat. She’s lost so much weight so fast.”
    Jeanne Louise remained silent, but wished she could ease some of his concerns. The man had worry lines making grooves in his face and she suspected they probably hadn’t been there before Livy got sick. She could ease that worry by suggesting she turn him, and he turn Livy, but then she’d risk spending the rest of her long life alone if he wasn’t willing to be her life mate. It might seem selfish to a mortal for her to put her need for a life mate ahead of a child’s life, but they were taught from birth to keep a certain emotional distance between themselves and mortals. Each of them would encounter hundreds of mortals they may like, care about, or even love to a degree, but they simply couldn’t save them all. They could turn only one and the idea of having to spend centuries or even millennia alone . . . well, it was untenable.
    D espite that, Jeanne Louise was tempted to make the offer anyway, but she forced it down and instead asked, “Is there nothing they can give her for the pain?”
    Paul shook his head and ran one hand wearily around his neck. “They’ve given her the strongest dose they dare for her age and size, but it doesn’t seem to do anything anymore. The next step is to keep her sedated in the hospital, but . . .”
    But he didn’t want her warehoused while she died. He wanted to save her, Jeanne Louise finished in her head when he fell silent.
    “I guess I should take you back in. I don’t want to leave her alone in case she wakes up,” Paul said abruptly.
    Jeanne Louise nodded and began to pack away the remains of their picnic, her gaze skittering to him when he knelt to help. Once everything was back in the basket and the blanket they’d sat on, as well as the one that had covered her legs, was folded, she stood and waited silently as he quickly unlocked her shackles from the gazebo post. She carried the blankets and he the basket and the end of her chains as they started to walk, and Jeanne Louise couldn’t help feeling like a trained dog as they headed for the house. It stirred a slow anger in her, but she forced herself to take several deep breaths, and pushed the anger back down.
    This situation was a difficult one, but getting angry wouldn’t help at this point. It was another kind of passion she needed now.
    “Don’t you think you should keep me a little closer to Livy?” Jeanne Louise asked when they entered the house and he turned toward the door to the basement. When he paused to glance at her with a frown, she added, “If she wakes up in pain, I can help her.”
    Paul hesitated, uncertainty plucking at his brow and Jeanne Louise sighed with irritation. He was worrying about her escaping, of course. And until he learned to trust that she wouldn’t, he would continue to think of her as a captive. She needed him to think of her as an ally if she was to woo him.
    “I don’t think—” he began regretfully.
    “What if I promise not to try to leave the house?” she interrupted.
    Paul looked torn. He obviously wanted to believe her, but in the end, just couldn’t, and started to shake his head, his mouth opening to speak. However, he never spoke the refusal she expected. Jeanne Louise didn’t let him. The moment his mouth opened, she dropped the blankets, caught the chain and tugged it from his hold with one hand. In the same moment, she snatched the tranquilizer gun from his back