He listed suddenly, a grunt of pain escaping him as he reach blindly for the nearest object sturdy enough to brace himself against. There was none. None but her, and when he tried to straighten rather than use her to lean on, she thrust herself under his arm and against his good side.

“Stop this,” she demanded of him, powering him toward the bed, realizing that he had weakened enough to where he didn’t have a choice but to obey. She got him to the bed by force of will alone and by the time they got there he was covered in a sheen of perspiration. He grunted as he hit the bed and she grabbed some 5-×-5s and pressed them hard against his wounds, once again disregarding universal precautions, even though a box of gloves was just across the room. She couldn’t afford the time it would take to glove up and neither could he. He had lost too much blood to risk losing much more.

“Eat your food if you still can,” she ordered him, nodding toward his neglected tray. “And try to keep it down. You need the nutrition.”

“Aye,” he said, but it was a weak reply compared to the powerful boom she knew his voice normally worked at. She would bet it bruised his virile male ego to have to depend on a woman, but that was just too bad.

He was stuck with her and she was going to be in charge, whether he liked it or not.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Isabella Russ rolled over in her sleep. Though barely conscious, she recognized the scent that filled her nostrils immediately.

Man. Her man. Her husband. She sniffed a little then took a long slow breath in because he smelled so divine, as usual. It was a nice distraction from the fact that she was still tired even though she had slept the day through.

“Are you sniffing me?” came the deep-throated rumble of amusement near her ear.

“You smell good,” she mumbled against his skin, snuggling up against him more tightly. It was chilly outside of the blankets and she had no interest in joining the cold waking world just yet.

And right on cue, the toddler cried.

“Ohhh nooo!” she ground out, ducking her head under the covers as if she could hide from the demands of her son. But unlike her daughter, her son had proved to be everything a demanding child could possibly be. Jason, for instance and much to her dismay, had refused to breast-feed. Bottle-feeding made twice as much work and she hadn’t quite got over her pique at not being able to feed him “from her heart.” Of course he was beyond breast-feeding by now anyway, but she still wasn’t quite over it. And it was only one of the dozens of ways this particular child was determined to use to exhaust her.

For instance, waking up at the crack of dusk. The child had an internal clock that told him dusk was imminent, as did most of the Nightwalker breeds, but rarely was it so highly developed in one so young.

Bella was just lucky that way.

“I’ll get him,” her husband said with a low chuckle.

“No!” she said when he went to move all of his virile warmth out of the bed and from under the covers. “I want you to stay.”

“Well, one of us has to get him or he’ll start to scream,” Jacob pointed out to her needlessly.

“Let Leah do it,” she sighed.

“Leah is nine. She is a little young to be taking care of our rambunctious three-year-old.”

“Well, I know that!” She huffed and rolled onto her back. “Fine. Go. I’ll be up in a second.”

“Bella.” Jacob reached out with a long-fingered, strong hand and ringed her around her throat with it. “What is this all about? If you are tired, we will do fine without you while you nap further.” He reached to run his hand from her throat down the length of her body in a comforting caress. Comforting. Not sexy or sizzling or any of the things they had once felt every single morning right after setting eyes on each other. There was never any time for that now. Now there was just a toddler to tend to.

“More sleep won’t help,” she said, ejecting another sigh of frustration. “I’ll just have exhausting dreams.”

“Exhausting dreams?” he echoed. “What kind of exhausting dreams? Do you mean dreams or premonitions?”

Bella was a Druid, a half-breed of Nightwalker and human. Once upon a time she had been all human, or so it had seemed, until Jacob came along and touched her. His Demon DNA had interacted with her Druid DNA and turned her “on” to her rapidly growing abilities. One of which had proven to be the ability to sense the coming future. Which could ultra-suck sometimes. Especially when she needed to sleep to compensate for her child’s demands on her.

One would think that becoming immortal and all would make it much easier to tend a child, what with their awesome immortal healing and replenishing abilities. But no, just like any other mother she was doomed to perpetual exhaustion. This in spite of the fact that Jacob was the best father in the known universe.

She sighed again. “Don’t mind me,” she said. “I’m just whiny today.”

“You did not answer my question,” he pressed.

“Well, I don’t know which it is! I just keep dreaming of going on vacation. Vacation far away from here, like in the States. Somewhere snowy and cold and crisp with lots of hot chocolate and roaring fires.”

“We have fires and cocoa here,” he said with amusement. “I can always have Elijah whip up a nice snowstorm for you.”

“I don’t want a wind Demon snowstorm, I want a natural one.”

Jacob blinked. “But … it is natur—”

“Don’t ask me to be logical! I’m too tired!” she groused. Again, a contrite sigh. “And did I mention that this might be, you know, alone time?”

Jacob raised one dark brow and amusement was quirking at his lips again. “Alone time? We can be alone whenever you like …”

“But then I just fall asleep because I’m so wiped out. Never mind!” She tossed back the covers and got to her feet huffily, but one touch of bare feet on cold floor and she was jumping into her slippers.

“Bella, come back here and talk to me.”

“Screaming child, remember?” she tossed back at him over her shoulder. She marched herself into Jason’s bedroom, hitting the lights and making her way to the crib. An instant smile streaked over her lips the minute she saw Jason’s face, his eyes lighting up at her approach. His belligerence turned to babbles of delight and, as usual, he melted her cranky little heart.