She cried out and backed into a cabinet, her gaze wide on the advancing Kurjan. His fingers morphed into needles. Big, dangerous, vampire killing needles. She screamed. “Sarah. Milaya, wake up.” Gentle hands shook her shoulders. The scent of cedar filled her nostrils. She opened her eyes, and the sight of male filled them. “Max.” She relaxed with a sigh. Soft moonlight danced over his face, creating rugged valleys. One button held his shirt together, as if he’d grabbed it before entering the bedroom. He sat on the bed. “You had a bad dream.” She scooted to a sitting position, resting her back against the upholstered headboard. Vibrations from a man reading a mystery novel wandered through her, and she shoved them away. Apparently the last person to touch the headboard had been alone. Thank goodness. She’d sat on the bed for a moment to think. Exhaustion sucked. “I fell asleep.” “That’s good.” Max slipped off her tennis shoes with quick movements. He gently rubbed the arch of each foot, and she fought a groan at the exquisite pleasure.
