Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
He brushed kisses over the dusting of gold across her nose and cheeks. She had amazing bone structure and he kissed along the line of her high cheekbones. Shifting his hands to frame her face, he brought his mouth down on hers. The world dropped away. The fact that they were infected with a terrible virus disappeared.
There was heat. Fire. Perfection. The moment his lips rubbed against hers, soft and sensuous, the flames leapt and burned. Electricity arced from his skin to hers. He kissed her over and over until neither of them could breathe. When he finally lifted his head, it took effort not to just pick her up and carry her to the bed. Instead, he found medicine for the rash and aspirin for her headache. Kissing her was paradise but taking care of her was more important to him.
Leaving her to shower and nap, Draden made his way to the remote lab, trying not to think about living without her. He should have thought about dying, about having to kill her and then himself to avoid the effects of the hemorrhagic virus. Instead, with every step away from her, he tried to picture what it would be like for both of them to survive and split up. He couldn’t face that bleak future any more than he could face the idea of dying in such a vile way.
He wanted that future the two of them talked about. He wanted the fun of planning a ceremony and looked forward to being with her and working out the details.
Wyatt Fontenot appeared on the screen when Draden called. In the background, he could see Trap bent over a worktable. Trap reminded Draden of a mad scientist, but then he always did when he worked in a laboratory. The human race lost him to whatever intriguing medical mystery he was working on. Unless Cayenne was around. The woman had a way of making him eat and sometimes sleep. Several times a day Trap would look around him a little helplessly, and she’d hand him whatever it was he needed. Other times he’d just look at her and the two would disappear for an hour and he’d come back looking refreshed.
“Shylah’s developed a large rash that’s spread across her body. She’s fatigued, and her muscles ache. She’s running a low-grade fever and her lymph nodes are swollen.” He tried to be clinical. “I still have the headache and I’m very tired. I have a small rash on my arms, belly and chest. My muscles are extremely painful and my temp has gone up a degree.”
Wyatt nodded. “That’s to be expected, Draden. You’re both infected, but your bodies are fighting it aggressively.” He turned away from the screen to talk to Trap.
At first Trap kept his back to Wyatt, but he suddenly swung around and stalked across the room to appear in front of the camera. “Tell me exactly how Shylah is feeling. What’s happening to her?”
“She’s never been sick, Trap. At least that was what Whitney told me when I talked to him. I forgot to tell you, I spoke with him. That’s how you got the file on her. It did get to you, didn’t it? I received it, so I thought you would have.”
“Yes. I’ve been working on sorting out what the two of you have in your makeup that would have you both fighting so aggressively.” He waved his hands in the air. “I need to know about Shylah. Her symptoms.”
“I’ve sent you a picture of the rash. She has a low-grade fever and her lymph nodes are swollen throughout her body. She’s showing signs of fatigue, and her muscles ache. She’s never complained about anything in all the time we’ve been together. I can see that she’s scared.”
Trap waved that away. “There’s no need to be yet. I’ll check the new blood samples. Just hang in there. We’re working night and day on our end.”
“Thanks, Trap.”
There was no need to profess gratitude, Trap was already gone, consumed by his work. Wyatt’s face was there again. “We really think with what Whitney sent us and the file on Shylah, we’ve got a good chance of figuring this out,” he said.
“Time’s running out, Wyatt. We want to get married. Can you get an expert on all things Indonesian and get the ball rolling to make it happen? Who’s the resident expert on Indonesia?”
“That would be Malichai,” Wyatt responded. “Give me a minute and I’ll have him here.”
Draden took the opportunity to look for information on the Internet while Wyatt was away from the computer. They could be married in Indonesia. That much he’d learned by the time Malichai sat in the chair Wyatt had vacated.
“You doing all right, bro?” he asked.
Draden nodded. “For having a killer virus in me, I’m doing surprisingly well. Need to know about getting married in Sumatra.”